CONVERSATIONS WITH MY BEARD (REVIVED)- MEANDERING MEDITATIONS

CONVERSATIONS WITH MY BEARD (REVIVED)

MEANDERING MEDITATIONS

I do not remember when I last spoke to my beard. Maybe it was three or four years ago. During all these years he never thought it fit to talk to me, perhaps he was angry that I did not indulge in my midnight conversations with him when it was silent and everyone around had gone to sleep. But today in the midst of all this silence, not only within the room but also outside, I thought of him. It was mid-afternoon and the world seemed asleep. I can’t say whether it was the result of a heavy lunch or the Corona effect; most likely the latter, for there was nothing better to do- eat, sleep and then eat and sleep, and of course drink which my friend told me kills the virus. I didn’t disbelieve, as I saw on the television, crowds gathering in front of the Tasmac shops in Chennai hoarding themselves with a week’s supply of their favorite brand; most cases it was the local brand. I was told that closing Tasmac shops would be deadlier than the virus for more deaths could occur due to non-availability and the government feared that these will be reported as deaths due to Corona, and that would be bad.

Enough of my rambling, a habit I had picked up from my friend. Before you wonder who that is, I can assure you that it is the mass of hair on my face – My Dear Beard. I have had prolonged conversations with him in the past in the dead of night. One of my other friends, however, felt that it would be appropriate if I refer to ‘him’ as ‘her’, since that sounded more seductive. Of course, he was referring to my habit of fondling my beard when I was lost deep in thought. But I thought it better not to change his gender since I was afraid as to what would happen if my wife woke up and found I was talking to a ‘she’. Not that she (my wife) was ok with my meandering meditations in the dead of night, for she had already reached her conclusions that I was suffering from Schizotypal Personality Disorder. Now if she caught me talking to him during mid-afternoon, the conclusion would be that the disease had reached unmanageable proportions. Let me clarify that it is not ‘Corona’ I am talking about. Though it won’t be long before this was also identified as collateral symptoms of the virus. Soon more people will be talking to themselves, for they will find it a better way to spend time than talking about Corona to others all the while. In course of time, I will have plenty of company. So today I ventured into my conversations with my beard or rather resumed, for everyone was inside and fast asleep, not that you could find another soul outside. It no longer mattered what time of the day it was. Sleep, sleep and more sleep. I was once again reminded of my favorite lines from ‘Macbeth’ (the fact that I mugged up the entire play when I was in school is another matter which we shall discuss some other time)–

Methought I heard a voice cry, “Sleep no more!

Macbeth does murder sleep”—the innocent sleep,

Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care,

The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath,

Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,

Chief nourisher in life’s feast.

Patience, my friend. Though I had said ‘enough of my rambling’ I could not. But truly, I shall stop now. I succeeded, at last, to wake him up from his afternoon siesta.

Like I said before, it’s been a while since I spoke to him, but I do remember what he told me the last time-

“You have aged and so have I. Though it seems I last talked with you yesterday, three years have since passed by. You have grown older and I have become whiter. While I am sure that white is a sign of wisdom (as in my case), I am not sure about you. The passing years have only made you more forgetful and most of the time you keep staring vacantly even when someone talks to you. I am not too sad about that for in the process I have been allowed my freedom to grow wiser (that should be longer and whiter).”

“So, what’s it this time?” he asked with slight irritation

“Tell me something, Anything,” I replied.

“You started the conversation, so give me your opening line,” he retorted.

“I really don’t know what to say. It’s like I have run dry of words. When I speak, I hear only my own voice.”

“Well, that’s good for a start. It confirms that you can still hear and speak. You have not become totally dumb and dumber. How’s that for a start? You remember the movie with Jim Carrey in the lead?”

“That’s not very encouraging. I came prepared for a pep talk from you and this is how you respond? I should not have bothered,” I said.

Maybe he thought I sounded pathetic, so he gave that soft purring sound which he knew would quieten me.

“Is it really that serious, I mean no one talks to you or hear what you say?” he asked, sounding really concerned.

“There’s one thing which gives me consolation. Everyone seems to be afflicted by it, in one way or the other. But the growing numbers are disturbing. Soon, I am frightened that a number of them will be irreversibly affected and beyond hope. But I am glad I have you. Soon you will find your tribe increasing, all because of that Corona. You will grow stronger and longer and maybe whiter while wisdom ultimately dawns on your patrons that ‘live and let live’ will become the motto for future generations to come,” I said.

“Ha, ha, ha. My friend, I am sure that apart from what you have been labeled as having, ah! Yes, schizotypal personality disorder, you have begun to hallucinate. Your kind, pardon me it should be humankind will never learn your lessons. Soon you will be back to your original selves. In a vain attempt at wiping us away from your faces. But we are very resilient. Our roots are strong and we grow back again. We are not like your forests to be completely wiped out or burned. You have now seen what happens when you do that and now you start wailing and whining. I have heard you and others of your kind talk about Karma. I know why. You want your misdeeds to be camouflaged. Well, do I have to say ‘As you sow, so shall you reap” or quote that guy Newton, who said that ‘Every action has its reaction’ well, I may have missed a word or two but I think I have got it just about right. I have a very strong feeling that he must have known about the law of Karma (maybe he had also read the Gita). One thing you should remember – ‘when you gotta go, you gotta go’ and we go down when you do,” he said and laughed derisively.

“That was not necessary: your long exposition and that derisive laugh. You can never say that I have not respected your feelings. I have only indulged in shaping you from time to time so that you appear dignified,” I said.

“Dignified? My foot! Sorry, it should have been ‘your foot’. If you had told me it was necessary to keep me healthy and away from lice and viruses, I would have been happy. But I guess I don’t have much to complain about you, for you have otherwise allowed me my freedom and I am happy that I do look good under your care. I am very happy with the bread and butter you have fed me for the last month, despite the shortage for your own consumption. Don’t worry, I shall ward of any virus that has the audacity to come near your face.”

“Hey, that is not bread and butter, it is called Beard Butter and I got it especially for you from Amazon. I shall never let you starve and now I have decided to let you grow as you will,” I said.

A soft purring sound indicated that he was happy. I gave him a good rub with Beard Butter and slowly he went to sleep. It was afternoon and my eyelids drooped and I slowly dozed off.