Aksat Upadhyay.

My Relationship with Rubber Bands and other Stories

Waking up every morning on the same bed is an absurd statement, seeing that the bed clearly changes every night, it is never the same. I mean, the person who comes and swaps it out every night is slick, but he is timely at the same time, I theorized that he comes at the exact midpoint of my sleep phase, so about 1:30 AM. But when I rose, he was nowhere, and my bed had already been swapped out. It seems the bastard understood my schemes and came early. Not a problem, I shall make my checks random; how shall he know; I shall catch him (or her).

59 Days in and he either comes before or later. It seems probability is against me, but I have a solution, I have made use of a touch sensitive glass slab to command men to deliver a camera at my door in exchange for digits on an excel sheet, the bed swapper may be smart, but is clearly outmatched. These creatures think they can swap my mattress, without even providing mockery, I mean if you are going to cause confusion, at least mock me, for that gives me some dignity. Any who, I have commissioned the camera to the municipal electric grid, and it is now recording from the time the sun submerges to when it emerges; I shall find the swapper now, yet, I feel uncomfortable, do I want to know who, or what this is?

Odd, I expected it to be some eldritch horror of the underworld, or some troll from heaven, but then again, heaven is a myth created by those who want to sell it to you, but no, it is just a man.I do appreciate his cadence though, he walks into my room, opening the chamber door slowly as to not perturb me during my slumber, lifts me gently, has his two accomplices change the mattress, and then tucks me in like a gentle father, and leaves. I do respect the effort in the act. But I was not able to make out the face, for it seems these 'camera' things are terrible, and cannot see well in the dark, oh well. I shall now move on, seems the mystery is solved.

Today was the first morning I could wake up in peace, for no more confusion swept me about the mystery of my mattress changing daily, it seems it is just some kind and considerate fatherly men who have a deep interest in mattress swapping; with that out of my working roster; I could finally get to the first task on my new year resolution from last-to-last year; make a to-do list.

What is a to-do list, anyway? Hah! A stupid question again, I seem to be a regular of the Mussoorie Stupid Person Ship Wheel Club, it's just I lost my membership card last year on my trip to the unknown frontier of western India, called Mumbai. It was a typical weekday in the Hills of Mumbai, I was strolling down from the sponge store perched upon Mount Eata; which is the highest peak in Mumbai, reaching 4200 M when measured from the level of the coastal plains, but surprisingly, the consumer electronic corporation's municipal grid extension had reached there too, it was only a shame that the store owner was still using inefficient light emitting diodes instead of tungsten-argon bulbs, for they draw 90% more power, making them much more efficient.

It is a good thing that the consumer electronics corporation, which specializes in consumer grade electronics, boasts a massive capacity of power generation, it uses state of the art spinning wheels to produce shaking iron wires, which creates, well, power, I solely endorse the consumer electronics corporation, for not only do they provide that which is promised but they also ensure every one of their paying beneficiaries is treated like family, a very unhappy family of course, but as the saying goes; "There is nothing like family".

When I enquired the owner about the current price of sponges, he explained to me that he is actually the owner's pet dog, I was confused, for he clearly looked like me, and I am very sure that I am not a dog; he understood my confusion and informed me that he only pretends to be a dog, as his 'master' actually hates dogs but he still wanted a pet dog, and as his investments in procuring future rights for purchasing sponges has made him obscenely wealthy, he was able to hire said man to act like a dog. A pretty ingenious solution; I'd say. But the problem was that the sponges had actually run out; because another sponge shopkeeper had purchased the entire stock of this particular sponge store to stock his own store, which went out of stock because another shop owner purchased it's stock to stock its own shop. The 'Dog' explained that this cycle continues infinitely, but it is not a loop, and hence their shop is always out of stock. I first found this to be a perfectly rational explanation, but I still wondered, how does this shop procure its stock?

Well, me not being much of a sponge enthusiast, I did not allocate precious thinking power to such a folly, the consumer electronics corporation has been trying for millennia to invent thinking power, so it can sell it on its vast copper network too, but the more money it puts in, the less thinking power it gets out, I feel bad for the poor operators of this philanthropic organization, but again, life is not fair, some people get to dress up like dogs, while others have to earn money.

Where was I? Yes! My Mussoorie Stupid Person Ship Wheel Club Membership card, well this membership card is one that also allows me to acquire goods, now what do I mean by goods? Like Sponge! I can give this card to any sponge seller, tell them the first four whole numbers and the sponges I choose become mine; items can also be acquired without the card, but then the owner's 'dog' tries to chase you, which is slightly uncomfortable for me, as it crosses my personal boundaries. Any who, the way I lost this card does not involve the western frontier city of Zurich at all, it involves the big bowl of salty municipal water, what my grandfather used to dub; 'The Ocean'.

It is because I lost my card to a man, who acts like a man, who works for the municipal water supply, he asked me for my card, citing that he "Needed to get the gunk off his shoes"; which is an acceptable problem for the servant of the municipal water supply, but instead he took my membership card, and ran away. I presume he ran all the way to Mussoorie to gain status at the Mussoorie Stupid Person Ship Wheel Club; which is a rookie mistake made by the rising non-stupid, they assume the club is of Mussoorie, when it is clearly based in the deserted city of Nainital. So I suppose calling the hounds of the Consumer Electronic Corporation is unnecessary, for his heels shall already bear enough punishment, and anyway, I had been nagged by the task of renewing the card for so long, it actually needed renewal ever since my grandfather was sent to heaven, but due to an injury in my leg, I was considering skipping the long trek to the desert oasis, it felt good to be rid of it. Good Riddance.

Now that the novice reader is aware of how I lost my Mussoorie Stupid Person Ship Wheel Club membership card, we can move on to the premise of this work of writing, which is to make a To-do list. For I woke up this morning on my changed mattress a different man, I was not to be idle, I was rather going to decide, what to do; when not idle. Let us list some of the items.

Buy 12 Sponges, 2 Large, 3 Medium and 7 green; Acquire a fast travel pass from the glass slab, to skip the walk to Nainital using the Consumer Air Corporation's travel stations; Shoot dead the mailman, who keeps delivering things I did not ask for, cluttering my house; buy a new pair of socks; and drink water.

It looks modest on parchment, but I felt true contentment; but then again; I am a modest man. I look at the world through an optimistic lens, 5 items planned is better than no items planned, I believe I shall stoop down to the realm of the non-stupids as a study; as anyway, until I travel to Mussoorie, I shall not be able to procure my Mussoorie Stupid Person Ship Wheel Club card; so I shall proceed through the items in the order I wrote them.

Armed with genuine data from my past expeditions, I ruled out the sponge store many moons away on Mount Eata, and instead went to my local dish soap shop, which happens to be run by a non-stupid, and hence also stocks sponges; but in a limited quantity. The owner, who though a man, identifies as an extinct species of lobster, is friendly, though he sounds and dresses more like a lobster for some reason. I asked him of his stock of sponges, he happily provided me the 7 green sponges, but told me that there was a stock outage of non-green sponges, due to chains of stores infinite in number and not circular in nature were acquiring sponges en masse; now there was an obvious question here: Why were they not going in a loop? The shopkeeper's son; who was actually much older than him; observed that if it were a loop, the price of sponges will become infinite in every store, leading to the collapse of the buying sponges that do-not-exist-yet market; which would lead to firstly; a drop in value of the Consumer Electronics Corporation and also, as a side effect, the impoverishment of the non-stupid; good thing I am only temporarily a non-stupid.

I shot the mailman, he still kept making sounds after it, so I wasted another 3 rounds on him. Funny how the world comes round; this weapon of cleaning was once delivered by him, and now his pitiful existence has been ended by it. It also cleared an unintentional item off the grand list of the creator; for the mail man's socks were new and fit me well; and as he employs no dogs; I could procure them from his sleeping body without a membership card; I also did him a service and dropped the sleeping man at his doorstep.

I was now left with the most daunting task, for without my membership card, and with the digits in my sheet randomly disappearing the same day I lost the card (oh how I miss the days before the Consumer Enlightenment Corporation sent their 'dogs' on those who converted the sheet digits to paper), the slab allows me not to procure this pass. I am most certain there is a workaround; for even when things seem to be impossible, you can rest easy knowing the universe is always on your side and actively supports you. While I was pondering this state of affairs, in a stroke of genius, I drank some water; this not only checked off a task but completed the list, as it was the last task. Now the list only needed cleaning up, which meant procuring the pass, and the remaining species of sponge. But before that I had to clear up another nuisance on the door, a smaller, female variant of the mailman appeared at the doors of my estate, enquiring if I had seen her 'father', I asked her who exactly her father was, out of kindness, and she revealed to me it was the same pest I had cleared up just a few hours prior, I kindly informed her that I had disposed of him and that he could be found sleeping forever on his front door. For some reason, she started shouting and producing water on her face, I tasted the water and realised; It was the same filthy water of the municipal bowl, this was not a mini female mail man (woman?) but a terror of hygiene and health, I calmly disposed of her, unlike her father she took only 2 rounds to silence, and was much easier to lift and drop off.

Now I thought back of my grandfather, who before leaving for heaven (he purchased a pass from the Holy Consumer Corporation), left me with great knowledge, like one of which the apprentice reader already knows, the nature of the 'Ocean' which had manifested just now. But he also taught me something about the behavior of the non-idiots. I took the pot in which I kept him, and his paper bundle to the Great Orange Tree Park to contemplate; for this was the only way I could clean my to do list.

Ah, the Great Orange Tree Park, not wanting to bore the apprentice reader with the story of these mystical gardens established by the philanthropic Holy Consumer Corporation, I shall skip over the rich history involving the removal of trees which are not capable of producing orange, and replacing them with trees that are, and then adding a wall, killing all the non-human dogs inside, and adding a fee to enter. I was fortunately able to liquidate my grandfather to fund my entry, hence why I had brought him along, but his papers, those were not worth liquidating.

The beauty of the park is unmatched, if I look where the sun rises, I see orange; I look where it sets, I see orange; I look where it refuses to go; orange. The sun is not kind, I was told by the Consumer Media Corporation, for its rays it gives to those who do not deserve it, it does not obey when asked to divert its rays to the metal sheets of the Consumer Electronics Corporation; It does not obey when asked to produce more or less rays either; the government despises it, but though I keep it a secret; I admire it. It does not classify itself as a stupid, non-stupid, dog, lobster or corporation owner. It only exists, and lets its rays fall as it pleases.

I then looked into the writings of the parchments, though written parchments are now illegal, I, inspired by the sun, decided to risk the act, to read among the oranges. These were the 'last requests' of my grandfather, before his departure, and they contained not many requests, but declarations. Say, "The Oranges in The Great Orange Park, they are not real boy, they keep the real ones for themselves", he had clearly reached the point where the Consumer Life Corporation had ordered his transfer to heaven, but I still found these funny, for what if he had some hidden meaning behind the utter, unrelenting, absurdity?

For he talked of how "It is only the sun they have failed to silence" and how "The ocean too fell, after much resistance, but the sun, son, it holds on". and "They took my son, who made a case for the sun, they will take you too son, as they are soon to take me". "I leave you nothing but trustworthy men, who shall save you from the cleansing done on people each night, to keep them docile". And then "The sun! It is all the hope we have, there is nothing else, I am old and frail, the last of my generation, it is the truth son, they hide it in the darkness of the deep earth, guarded by the greatest group of idiots, the truth about it all, on paper of old, tied in rubber bands".

Huh. Is the Consumer Life Corporation; bad?

I mean the sun has never done anyone any harm, but the Consumer Life Corporation keeps insulting it, they seem to not care for feeling either, they took grandpa away even though he was angry and did not want to go. The Sun never made him angry, he loved the sun; "The Sun will outlast everyone, son, even the corporation owners." It is a pretty wild statement, but now that I think a little about it, it makes sense; the Consumer Electronics Corporation keeps saying it will tame the sun in 6 months, and yet the sun stays, nobody seems to remember though.

And you know what? Those oranges are so clearly fake, that's not even orange! That's brown!

These people are, lying? Yes! They lied! Yes! They lied to my face! The stupids, Nainital, perhaps they shall know, perhaps my grandpa knew something subtle, something he is trying to hint at, I must get there, my to-do list, where is it, yes! I must procure a pass, but how? Oh yes! The little mailwoman's jewelry! I must leave.

You know, now that I am not sure of the trustworthiness of the Consumer Life Corporation, things feel very wrong, I mean, for once, why do the corporation owners and sponge buyers get to sit on a chair, while we have to wait for the rumbling transporter to transport us all while cramped on the ground? Any who, it brought to different fast travel base, it is not so much 'desert' more like 'deserted farm'. I had to slip past the dogs though, as they were barring the entry through the border, one chased me, but these dogs are very easy to evade; if I yell "Stop!" they just stop.

The Apprentice reader must understand that this 'Nainital' was not on the list of places of where the fast traveler goes, and when you ask the people guarding it, they threaten to send you to heaven, which is funny, as I have never even purchased a pass. But, I decided that given it had been a while since my leg injury, I walk over, there, it took 3 weeks, mostly due to the fact that the friendly border patroller kept giving me incorrect directions, but I was pointed the right way when I met a fellow stupid, who was delighted to see me, for some reason. She led me the correct way. but she did not allow me to walk, instead she made me board some sort of wheeled bedroom, pulled by very big non-human dogs. It was 3 nights until I arrived at my desired destination.

The Mussoorie Stupid Person Ship Wheel Club; is not as glamorous as I had imagined, it is just a bunch of houses, maybe I should have listened to Grandpa and actually come here after his transfer. Fortunately for me, I was welcomed by well meaning people who actually knew what writing is, I told them about the stolen card and they said "There goes your inheritance". I did not know what that means, but this time I decided to dedicate some brain power and ask them, and they said it was the spreadsheet digits of my Grandpa he had left for me, odd, I was told they got used for his ticket to heaven. These were weird people, very fatherly, and motherly (for the women) and even called the place something else, apparently this is not Nainital, but 'Chakmafi'.

It has been 214 days since I arrived in Chakmafi.

I am extremely disturbed, Oddly Happy; and much more grateful for Mr. Glowing Sky Ball over there. I have learned of what has happened to this world, I know that these non-human dogs are the real deal, I weep for the Ocean, I weep for ink on paper, I now know why the glass slabs are distributed for free, and why people don't seem to point out the lies of the Media corporation.

We can not fight the Consumer Life Corporation or its stooge subsidiaries. But we can build a resistance slowly. Mr. Good Morning here Provides enough light for stolen solar cells to produce our electricity, Mr. Fusion Reactor also provides food from the earth, which has a 'taste'. It's unlike soap, you know, and apparently soap is just something to wash yourselves with, and it can also have smells, like lavender. Mr. Sky Mango, also provides peace, when I watch him rise, he acts not only as a measure of time, but as father up in the sky, when I ask him for something, he nods at me, when I feel troubled by the past, he comforts me. When he goes away, I sit with a warm bowl of soup with my friends and newly found family, I talk about the day's funny mishaps, I laugh about the broken chair. And every day, yet another person joins us.

But how does one ever recover from learning that death is no sleep, nor is it a pass to some other world. There may be a heaven and may be a hell, but those shall never last long either. What we were taught as 'cleaning' was not that. Killing was not 'cleaning', it was killing. Those children were not sent to a 'different school'. That mailman, that living, alive person, with his own life, own memories, his own lamp of existence, he did not sleep, he was no pest. His daughter was not some evil, No. No. Chakmafi gave me everything, they help me do, yet I cannot process, what I have done. I cannot think, I do not feel. I try to rationalize it; But what is rationalizing. I can feel, the mother and fathers and friends and real dogs and those singing flying things they call 'Birds', they make me feel, but those people, that man, his 'daughter', grandpa, where they went, I cannot think of it. I did to him as I was told, and know; I know it is wrong, they too, were capable of feeling.

It has now been an year since I arrived in Chakmafi, and something happened in my sleep.

Today, when I slept, I did not skip time like I was used to my whole life. I went into another life in my sleep, there came the Sun, he came riding on a chariot in a form that is like mine, so as to not scare me. I noticed I too stood on a chariot, he came close to me, and then he gently handed me the reigns. I felt; like I was thinking. He told me I was; 'dreaming', my mind, it was, with me. He told me he loves us, I asked him of the world, he told me it will heal, one by one, he told me no 'corporation' can dissolve the lamp of existence within each of us, he told me to love all, punish those who try to destroy love and someone's light, he told me "When you feel scared, think of me, I shall come to you, and when your days on the Earth end, I shall take you with me to another life, as I took your grandfather". He told me to now wake up, and Love! Love the Birds! Love the real dogs! Love the people around you! Love every moment of contentment, every sip of warm soup! Love the thoughts you think! And love those greatest of thoughts which you carve on paper, and keep tied up with Rubber Bands.

~

Badwriting by Aksat Upadhyay

Note: I realised after putting out a mocking commentary along with my buddy T:. on my first ever essay, which was produced when I was in the eighth grade, titled Soap Thoughts - A Look Back , that at the end of the essay I had said "I know I forgot to talk about rubber bands but I will do that in another essay.". Seeing I had made a promise to if not anyone but myself, and seeing how keeping one's word is a basic responsibility of a soul; I whipped this up last afternoon, unlike most of my works, It took more than a few hours to complete, and though it is very messy and well, 'Bad', I do deem it worthy enough to mark this many year-long promise, upheld.

Lose Inspirations: The Katha Upanishad; Dandelion Wine - Ray Bradbury; November Entry, Landour Days - Ruskin Bond; Maybe I could eat blades of grass - Bill Wurtz; Soap Thoughts - A Look back; And, most importantly; Our Modern World.


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