“Do you think we will become famous?” I asked Navin.
He sat thinking for a while on the bench, the smoke from his cigarette danced around him like a gypsy dancer. “We will be man.” he said after giving it a thought.
There was silence as the both of us puffed on our cigarettes.
“Why are we such losers? I mean, why can’t we become famous by inventing something?” I was curious.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to invent an underpant, whereby the user wears it, it automatically shaves off their pubic hair in 5 seconds. And then they just throw the underpants away. Best part, they don’t need to spend all morning in the toilet trying to shave off their balls. The underpants does it for them” He puffs his cigarette and the adds, “In five minutes”. He nodded and exhaled the smoke out.
I pondered on his idea. It was stupid. No doubt. Very stupid. But it was innovative. Innovative because this shithead thought out of the box.
“That” I swallowed my saliva. It tasted like freshly grounded coffee. “That is the bestest innovation I’ve ever heard”
“Thanks man. Appreciate it.”
There was silence again as we puffed on our cigarettes.
“We’ll become famous people someday.” I don’t know why I said it. Maybe it was to make me feel good. Maybe it was to make him feel good. Maybe it was to make us both feel good. Either way, I had a slight hunch it was because of all those documentaries on famous musicians I’ve been watching lately.
“One last one before it runs out” I puffed the last bit and aimed at the drain and flicked it. It flicked off the pavement and landed a few centimeters away from the target. “I can’t even throw this shit right”
Navin threw his. It bounced off the pavement and landed next to mine.
“Same here. Guess we’re just a bunch of losers huh?”
I sighed and clapped my hands to pretend I was excited, “Back to work!” The both of us woke up. Navin opened the door that lead us into the cyber cafe and loud noises of Chinese punks screaming in Chinese welcomed us back into our illusionary world that has become part of our life whenever we wish to escape reality.
I got to admit, I felt naked without my phone. It was like, I had no clothes on. One month without the phone was a mental torture and I couldn’t endure it no more.
Thanks to Bala, he had a spare Nokia phone and he passed it me to use it until I get a new phone.
He also was kind enough to get me some good quality bandages for my knee. They worked like magic.
The both of us had a good conversation in the car just about an hour ago after our late night sessions. I enjoy having conversations with Bala when he sends me off to my home, just the two of us, good friends, sitting and talking things out. It really makes you feel good. Good to let things out of your mind and chest. Not that we’re gay but we talk to each others like brothers.
We talked about spirituality, about Sai, about health and my knee, about football, about girls and sex, about things in the past that still haunt the both of us, about Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle movie (“Let’s burn this motherfucker down!”). We talked about shit, we talked shit.
It was a good conversation which was funny in a very sad dark way.
Sometimes life is so scary. You feel like you’re walking through this deep dark dense forest and all you see in front, behind, to your left, to your right is just thick white fog. But yet through the fog, you can make out the darkness of the shadows that lurk just the outside of it. And that’s what makes it scary. The knowing that life has so many possibilities and unexpectancies. Good and bad. And it all depends on how you take your chances, call your shots. And a little bit of fate, karma and luck. It’s like walking on a mine field. You got to watch your step every way.
"Life’s full of shit. It’s what you’re gonna do about it that counts." He said after giving a graphic detail about shit and using that term to describe life.
“Maybe we should form a new cult. Call it Shitism. And you preach all your Shitology to the world” I suggested.
“Yeah and then we erect a temple in the form of shit, the ones we see in Japanese comics. The Temple of Shit” Bala chimed back.
“Morning 6 am, a session of Diarrhea”
“Recite the Feces Mantra 108 times for your daily dose of happiness”
We laughed our asses off.
“You’ll be the World Coordinator.” Bala then said. “What about you?” I asked.
“I’ll be THE shit, man!”
We laughed till we almost teared. It was a good laugh the both of us ever had in a long long time.
Someday, oneday, we will be famous. You will read about us in the papers, or in magazines, or in the net, I don’t know… But you’ll just hear about us and then may be you will say to yourself, “Shit… I can’t believe those losers made it”