The Bandars of The Brain
First, I must mention that I am not writing a scientific discourse. This piece has no relation with the noted book ‘The Phantoms of The Brain’.
This piece is about a dream that someone had one night while he was trying to get some sleep after a long day’s work.
The place that this person stayed in is a far off land which is inhabited by very few, and can be accessed by fewer who yearn so much to.
But I must give you readers an introduction of the place and the person. Some of you are co-inhabitants of this strange person in this strange land, and some of you probably know this strange person somehow and are reading this to get an idea of his madness. Some of you know that this place is situated in the middle of a mountainous forest and some of you don’t, who want to know about this mountainous forest. Some of you are aware of the fact that other than a few human beings who risk their whole lives in this place, a lot many spiders, scorpions and snakes also reside here, and in harmony with their humane counterparts. Some of you may be aware of the monkeys who live here with their families and have no regard for their evolutionarily advanced brothers (I think they are jealous).
Well, all in all, it is a great picture of natural harmony, and not so much about human advancement.
So it happened that when this strange fellow went up and down the roads each day, he was met with monkeys of all sizes and age. Soon he ceased to be a tailless bumpkin and became a bumpkin with a tail.
One day he was trying to have some sleep, when he thought he saw the shadow of a monkey in his balcony. It was summer and the doors were open. The heavy curtains moved only faintly. But the moonlight hit the curtains to create a bright silver glow all around. In the middle of this mystical silver light sad plump what seemed to be the shadow of a monkey.
A cold wave of chill dispatched through his spinal cord. He closed his eyes shut hoping that the monkey (if it was one) wouldn’t enter the room.
The monkey was coming at him. It looked through a small gap of the curtains. It gave one of its terrible screeches. Its teeth were dirty, but they glowed nevertheless. Then everything was silent again (other than the sound of an occasional snore coming from the adjacent room).
The ashtray lay on the table. It was used to light incense sticks. It was brimmed with ash and incense stick butts. He grabbed it into his hand and threw it at the monkey. The monkey screeched again. The sound came rather loud. He wasn’t sure whether it came from its throat or was the screeching of a car braking on the highway.
There was ash all over its eyes and it fell to tears. So profuse were the tears that he felt like offering it a piece of tissue paper. But he had to close the door before the monkey charged at him in its wounded state (at least wounded psychologically).
The door was shut fast, but the monkey was not to budge. It scratched on the glass of the door and gave a devilish grin as if to say, “I know what you did last summer.”
“He he!” the strange man said, “You can’t get me from out there… See I can also show my tongue.” With that he displayed his little tongue, so that the monkey fell into fits of laughter. He became angry, and the monkey became angry. He tried to hit the monkey with his fist for imitating him, but he was met by the hard glass of his door.
The monkey disappeared. It moved up, somewhere. Its laughter could be heard. A second chill dispatched through his spine. Soon he would lose count of the number of chills his spine carried. The monkey was up on the terrace of the building still screeching and laughing at the top of its voice.
The strange man scampered to his main door of his room and locked it shut with a bang. The monkey was now at the door, trying the combination lock, and wishing it had a ghost key.
The strange man was up on his bed again palpitating hard. The door swung open and a shadow emerged like in foppish ghost stories. It said, “Hey does anyone have some matchsticks?”
Dwaipayan Adhya
This piece is about a dream that someone had one night while he was trying to get some sleep after a long day’s work.
The place that this person stayed in is a far off land which is inhabited by very few, and can be accessed by fewer who yearn so much to.
But I must give you readers an introduction of the place and the person. Some of you are co-inhabitants of this strange person in this strange land, and some of you probably know this strange person somehow and are reading this to get an idea of his madness. Some of you know that this place is situated in the middle of a mountainous forest and some of you don’t, who want to know about this mountainous forest. Some of you are aware of the fact that other than a few human beings who risk their whole lives in this place, a lot many spiders, scorpions and snakes also reside here, and in harmony with their humane counterparts. Some of you may be aware of the monkeys who live here with their families and have no regard for their evolutionarily advanced brothers (I think they are jealous).
Well, all in all, it is a great picture of natural harmony, and not so much about human advancement.
So it happened that when this strange fellow went up and down the roads each day, he was met with monkeys of all sizes and age. Soon he ceased to be a tailless bumpkin and became a bumpkin with a tail.
One day he was trying to have some sleep, when he thought he saw the shadow of a monkey in his balcony. It was summer and the doors were open. The heavy curtains moved only faintly. But the moonlight hit the curtains to create a bright silver glow all around. In the middle of this mystical silver light sad plump what seemed to be the shadow of a monkey.
A cold wave of chill dispatched through his spinal cord. He closed his eyes shut hoping that the monkey (if it was one) wouldn’t enter the room.
The monkey was coming at him. It looked through a small gap of the curtains. It gave one of its terrible screeches. Its teeth were dirty, but they glowed nevertheless. Then everything was silent again (other than the sound of an occasional snore coming from the adjacent room).
The ashtray lay on the table. It was used to light incense sticks. It was brimmed with ash and incense stick butts. He grabbed it into his hand and threw it at the monkey. The monkey screeched again. The sound came rather loud. He wasn’t sure whether it came from its throat or was the screeching of a car braking on the highway.
There was ash all over its eyes and it fell to tears. So profuse were the tears that he felt like offering it a piece of tissue paper. But he had to close the door before the monkey charged at him in its wounded state (at least wounded psychologically).
The door was shut fast, but the monkey was not to budge. It scratched on the glass of the door and gave a devilish grin as if to say, “I know what you did last summer.”
“He he!” the strange man said, “You can’t get me from out there… See I can also show my tongue.” With that he displayed his little tongue, so that the monkey fell into fits of laughter. He became angry, and the monkey became angry. He tried to hit the monkey with his fist for imitating him, but he was met by the hard glass of his door.
The monkey disappeared. It moved up, somewhere. Its laughter could be heard. A second chill dispatched through his spine. Soon he would lose count of the number of chills his spine carried. The monkey was up on the terrace of the building still screeching and laughing at the top of its voice.
The strange man scampered to his main door of his room and locked it shut with a bang. The monkey was now at the door, trying the combination lock, and wishing it had a ghost key.
The strange man was up on his bed again palpitating hard. The door swung open and a shadow emerged like in foppish ghost stories. It said, “Hey does anyone have some matchsticks?”
Dwaipayan Adhya
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