What's What

Though he doesn’t remember his dreams often, the following incident made him aware of the discriminating powers of his brain. The next day when Albert woke up, he received a mail from his superior. The postman had unattentively slid the envelop through his door, and left after knocking it to indicate that someone had come. The message asked him to meet his boss two days later.

“Your Father”, he first thought but later found this thought part romantic and part mysterious. He couldn’t wait for the next 48 hours. Though he had forgotten about the meeting until he received a call on the day. On his way, he enjoyed looking at the people’s faces and discover what’s that makes them insecure – their wrinkles, their teeth. The town’s pavement that stood along the boulders were harassed by people’s saliva. It had become the town’s souvenir where tourist would pose with the block, making a spitting face. He admired when sophisticated people made an effort to look simple. By the bus, he had just reached the office while awkwardly staring at people’s faces, then he received a call.

“Albert, where are you?”

He suddenly realised he had missed going to the place.

“On my way, sir.”

Just then it struck him - his superior could call him. The physical mail now made no sense. But he also accepted it?

He sat in his cabin, staring at his laptop screen, rather his opened EXCEL file. He had zoned out. He often told himself how serene mental sleep was, and that everyone should participate in it. From the outside of his cabin’s window, it appeared as if the time had been stopped. The passers-by would see him lost in his own thoughts, but gave no importance. While still on their way, their eyes would shine with a desire to improve after seeing a young man who wasted his brimming youth.

While returning from the office, a fellow told him, “You are lazy. And for an intern you ought to work even more than me.” Walking along the boulevard, he noticed the continuous decline in size of trees as he looked further. The sun had set and they were enjoying the fresh air the prisoners wish to get after the release.

Just when they had reached the junction, the fellow realised his home was in the opposite lane. Raising his right hand, Albert bid him bye, as if holding the words since they had started. After some walking, he thought how dumb that man was. He regretted he could have pushed him on the road. Suddenly, he ran far away so that he was no longer in his sight whenever at the odd intervals he looked back.

The place he lived in was a leased, two storeyed-apartment. The soft sweet smell of the dinner that his landlord made, would travel distances and lure people into the café she’d spent her past 8 years in. There was a medium gathering of customers throughout the day, which peaked in the afternoon due to corporate parole. At night, only a few ordered coffees. One of them would often dart around the place with his naked eyes. By the time Albert was home, he would have the usual few words with the man. In such a lively place, he never had his dinner alone nor ever felt he wasn’t alone. “You live here?”, asked the darting fellow. He nodded. “Well, I must tell you, you know, this place is wonderful. You are lucky to walk through this heaven directly upstairs straight to your room. Otherwise, normals like me meet Him in heaven, perhaps.” There was a silence. The wind had opened the window-lock which he pointed out with his middle finger without paying attention to its significance. “See, you get to hear such wooden voices rarely, especially at my place where there is hardly any wood. The wind is blowing, the night is billowing, its breeze from hands, they fall into this barren land. In the darkness of night, there is a shine originating from the place where we are sitting, gazing into the abyss of darkness, thinking whether to acknowledge the dark or stay with this rare light.”

At this point, I suddenly realised I used he with myself but it was in fact me, who was Albert. “We can talk tomorrow. I am tired”, I said. He looked at me sideways, his eyes still moving around the opened landscape, as if he’d allowed me to move ahead but neither giving the full authority to do so. In my room I was lying flat on the bed, eyes fixed on the tiny cracks on ceiling. I was trying to have a dream which writers often had through their protagonists. I had closed my eyes and just when I consciously nodded to keep them closed for one minute more, while also realising the veil of sleep covering my rationality, a knock came from the door.

“I am sorry to disturb you at this moment, but you have a visitor at this moment.”, the landlord informed. He then opened the door and let the visitor share the room with me. His statement was an alert and not something I had discretion to refute. He was the office guy. “See I know, you know, I am not an idler, so it must be for an important reason that I am here.”

“Go ahead.”

“Mr. Albert I’ve been sent here by the mercy of our boss. Did you receive a mail two days back?”

“Me? Yes.”

“You would have found it and thought that it was odd in these times. But hear me, it was a cryptic message. You are chosen to be the detective in this important case.”

I paused for a few seconds in anticipating he would add some vital sentence. “You’ve entered wrong room; I am a finance intern.”

“Listen to me, it doesn’t matter, now listen, this case holds the one of the most significance -as in future, as at present and as has already baffled pervious detectives of bygone ages. The case is very simple. But wait before that let me call our boss.  I know you are surprised but he wanted to know you better.” The door crackled once again and a short gentleman with his spectacles dangling around his chest quietly came, took a chair and sat.

“No time for formalities. The case is simple.”

“Yes, I know that he actually told me.”

“You will be slapped to death by us. The problem is that there is no solution but we wanted to know what your thoughts are on this”, exclaimed the fellow.

“If you think so, go ahead.”

Wait, what is this case? Is this case or a judgement? This conversation now made no sense.

I opened the mailbox while chilling in the sunny traffic. I was requitted with a welcome mail – the one I received when I subscribed to a newsletter. Newsletter and job messages both ought to have a different place for messages yet I didn’t care. When I reached the place, few people were sitting in a U-shaped arrangement. I opened the gate and saw a man who sat like Jesus in the last supper but had his hand resting upon his chin. Suddenly, I realised that my place was in the other room. Hesitatingly I closed the door which made sharp cracking sounds. I made my way to the cabin and again that guy saw me. I realised how golden silence was after meeting this man. After many attempts to close the conversation, I opened my today’s excel file titled- a comparative analysis of sales trend over past two years. Grand name, short work. I saw practically as wiseman said how –(A+B) equalled -A-B. Suddenly I noticed my phone and saw the time shift the hour hand, I thought let’s take a break, even nature is indicating it. I started contemplating about menial things. My pillow after long years of bearing my enormous skull had become depressed. When I reach home the first thing I’ll do is not sleep with a pillow. Too much comfort has been costing me my sleep.

“So, besides jokes. Albert this case is extremely crucial. If you solve it, what you demand, is what we’ll supply. Listen.” His orders to listen made me realise I was speaking too much.

“There was a cow. You’ve seen it, I assume. So, there’s a cow. She would hunt everywhere she roamed to find the food that would solve her taste. Her green taste. I couldn’t stop laughing. Sorry, let me continue.  She would spend hours scrambling the bushes and engulfing whatever she found interesting. She would do this until she had enough to chew for the rest of the day.  That was her golden hour, where she would find a resting place and gaze upon the passing crowd and chew and chew for hours. She has done this for years. Her calves do the same. In fact, her biology is designed to do this only. But what is she doing? Is she even doing the right thing? Isn’t she wasting her time? Dawdling and idling, and inspiring ennui in the already yawning faces of young men.

This is the case. Your job is to find out the purpose why is she living. “

Wait she was living, now the purpose didn’t made sense.

I woke up….