Trance! Trance! Is what I call! Hypnotic just super hypnotic is what I answer. It’s not that I talk or I am talking about a state of trance when you are drunk lying somewhere in a crowd full of drunkards or its not even that, that I am talking about some process of hypnotism by a well known whoever does that kind of stuff. Totally wrong dictionary I have, not literal, not meaningful and not even with any iota of sense.
Imagine! Fantasize! That I am in my bed, trying to sleep certainly but sleep does not come so easily to people to those who think much, certainly does not. I am , I am awake, I am literally staring at my ceiling, preferably wooden ceiling, I have my hands folded and rested upon my heart with not much of delight, and now I think and I enter to the world of images not real but absurd and digital images. It feels like the brain has pressed the button “play” and the movies are playing, where I play the role of a director, an actor, screen boy, cameraman and everything. A whole film set is inside my head. Sometimes, in my mood I would like to do funny things. I would introduce an actor, a characterless actor and give him a role, nothing much, a funny role. I would like to make him a tiny man with beard, small hands and stupid face and hair longer than himself. Director would praise me, for the innovation of never seen funny character. “Marvelous” – a wild imagination. Then, many times in my non-mood, I would turn the pages and subconsciously write a script, that goes nowhere, that stands nowhere, that connects nothing, that is senseless and absurd, a script that a mad person would write in his peak of madness or a street boy would write in peak of his hunger. A script, personally, I would like to call, Blank. A script that starts with an invisible dot, and ends at the same, a script inside which lies a dot, inside which lies my life! A script that tells the tales of my life, happiness, sadness and illusions.
Now, the director is in serious mood. More philosophical and more focused, where does this dot lead his story? Where does it end? What does it do in the middle, in the process to end? He asks me, as I am him and he is me, I answer, he answers, it all ends to death, it all ends to ashes, it all ends to nature. Everything we see in and around us has life; it’s just that we don’t want to see it. They all have passed the dot process; the dot story already is complete for them, so now they are part of blissful life- a natural life. The director and I would say we are lucky to be alive here, but our minds and hearts would say, unlucky creatures living a life that is nothing but an uncompleted dot. I would like to complete the process, the director says, but this time the actor would give him a reply. “To complete the dot, you have to die, Are you ready Mr. Director? Are you… Are you… Are you ….almost coming near to his soul… are you ready to die…D.I.E…
He shouts, “Mr. Director?” And the director says “And “Cut”, “Great scene we might try it again in next plight as well”. The actor is stunned to death, surprised as hell; it was no movie scene, no filmy speech, real real dialogue, no script, and no fake lines. The director is in many moods of abyss and the ambience of his face is well colored like the modern piece of painting. In his happy mood, his actors work so well- act so well, put the real life dialogue so well and he praises the actor so well. But still the director has not forgotten the Dot process. He asks, the actor, would you like to complete the process- you know the dot process. He replies, “No”, I would first like to live my life and then die. The director orders, if you can act so well, you can also die very well, can’t you Mr. Actor… can’t you! “Yes, Sire Me can… I surely can’. He answers with a sound that is audible to only microscopic insects. Then the director asks every other person in the barren set, and asks as if threatening them, Are you ready to die, for the dot completion…are you? Are you… Do you all like to be the parts of blissful nature …do you?
He is mad now! I can surely tell by his expression. Then, when I was in the crest of my indifference, he turns to me and screeches “are you ready?” Then, with all the apathy left in my presence I answer, “I am a readymade death if you can see through me, Mr. Director, I am ready to die now, if you want me to, but Forgive Me I don’t entertain anybody’s wish or wants and Mr. Director the dot is in climax of its completion or should I say Termination BUT ITS NOT MINE ITS YOURS! CONGRATULATIONS!!!