Generation Gaps

'Amor vincit omnia'

(love conquers all)

Okay. Hi! I am Ishmael.

I live in a plot which is divided into four parts. A plot developed by an idiotic writer who doesn’t even have an original name for me. He copied it from his recent read, a novel called Moby Dick.

In this plot, each part adheres to a particular century. The oldest of them is the 15^th century where according to our brilliant writer only stereotypical old age people live and pray a lot. The next century is the 17^th century, where monarch Ranjit Singh, Emperor of Lahore is reigning. He is a good king but rather a stupid father, but who isn’t. We will see to that...

Then the next century is the 20^th century Delhi where I put up in a small dingy hostel room with almost no sense of privacy. As a reader, try to remember these details, they will make sense later, in case you want to know what the writer wants to convey. Otherwise, you know Roland Barthes killed the author a long time ago, so no worries.

The last but not the least is the 21^st century Adelaide. It is a remote part of this story so I am not going to explain that to you right now.

Huh! I know you are thinking I am a poseur, an out loud thinker and you are wasting your time. Trust me or not that is your problem but this story is not going to kill you, so just give it a try.

Now, the most important part, why do I live in this plot? For your convenience as you could already guess from the previous description of the 20^th century that I am a college student and since the king is not a very good father. Guess what, I am in love with his daughter.

Okay, now, it is not exactly the highly elevated courtly love which is perfect but sexless in nature.

We had virile plans and no place to execute them. She traveled on weekdays from the 17^th to the 20^th century to attend her college which is the same as mine. As I told you, I have a small room in a hostel which I share with another roommate, who is a nerd or an orthodox, I am not sure, but the problem is he never leaves the room alone. So, the only illegitimate thing possible for us is cuddling. And since my Girlfriend is from a royal background she is very uncomfortable with this. She wants everything on a grand level, even, oh forget it!!

So one day when we were being cosy on my single bed she said, and now we are moving into dialogue mode.

Saanjh: I am sick of this, how long are we going to waste our time and energy like this?

Ishmael: Arey baby! Don't be upset. Very soon I will get some job and then I will marry you and we will have a lot of time and space.

Saanjh: Who said anything about marriage you fool. Do you even have balls to ask my father? I highly doubt that even I doubt you have balls at all.

Ishmael: Hey! Don’t be like that.

Saanjh: Like what?

Ishmael: Like a condescending bitch. If you don’t want to marry, what else do you want?

Saanjh: Huh! Forget it. You know nothing, John Snow.

Ishmael: Now who the hell is John Snow?

Saanjh: He is my latest crush from HBO.

Ishmael: A crush? And what about me?

Saanjh: what about you? Do you even know how cool the 21^st century is? My friend Varsha lives in Adelaide. They have a TV with four HBOs, and this show Games of Thrones, it is out of the world. It has royality plus violence plus porno. It is awesome. I miss it now.

Ishmael: So what, even I have a TeeVee.

Saanjh: Yeah with Doordarshan along with its most famous show Krishidarshan. Even my century has better entertainment sense than this Satyam Shivam Sundaram shit.

Ishmael: Then why are you here. Go find someone from your own century. And do not wreck my brain.

Saanjh: Acha! I am sorry, don’t be angry baby, but can we please visit my palace once and could spend a weekend together in the royal bed? What say?

Ishmael: But what if somebody finds out?

Saanjh: Arey no baby. Nobody will. Once I hid a dog for 18 days in my bed box and......

Ishmael: And did what?

Saanjh: Nothing stupid you idiot. I forgot and it died (Smiling)

Ishmael: That doesn’t sound convincing. How much did you love that dog?

Saanjh: He was a nice doggy but can’t say. You know love is not exactly my cup of tea.

Ishmael: Whaaaat? Then what are we doing?

Saanjh: Why do you have to make everything personal? You are coming or not?

Ishmael: Hmm let me see...(wondering)

Saanjh: Then see.

And here my girlfriend kissed me a mouthful and showed me her noise canceling breast.

And then whatever she said I had only one answer, YES.

So, it was decided that on the same evening after the classes we were going to the palace of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. I was not sure about the iron throne, but yeah the iron bed was going to be mine.

It was five in the evening when we left for the 17^th century, and almost at the same time, Maharaja left his palace in search of his one and only daughter because unfortunately, someone told him about me taking her to my abode. He was furious and agitated, but to our comfort, we never met him in the way.

We reached the palace at 7 in the evening. To our great ease, a grand offering was held for the diety. Nobody took notice of us, especially us being together as a couple.

When we reached the royal chambers (which I could not even describe with my middle-class imagination and vocabulary) I was awestruck. I had a sublime feeling, fear and anticipated pleasure at the same time. My girlfriend ordered a maid to open the royal bedroom which was going to be our love nest for the next two days. I heard her giving orders to the maid. She said distinctly, "Sukanya I have an important assignment to be done. Don’t let anybody be inside." Sukanya informed her by using the epithet “your grace” that it would take some time to open up the royal bedroom since it is not tidy and the keys are in the maintenance hall. Saanjh sent her to bring the keys and suddenly out of nowhere she pounced on me and started kissing. I was startled since at the end of that corridor the offering was going on and I could see people looking towards us. There was a small cut out from the main corridor, where two chairs and a small table were kept. She pushed me in there and when I fell down, she started to take my jeans off. Now, since the cutout region was small. My legs were in the corridor, so while I was not visible, she could be easily spotted in the corridor, sitting on the ground and doing something. And not contrary to my suspicion, some old haggard voice actually called her. I was frightened enough to wet my pants.

She expressed very calmly to me, don’t worry, the people performing the offering are from the 15^th century and since most of them are old with weak eyesight, nobody could see us. She kissed me on the right cheek and said “Relax, put your pants on, I will meet you in the chamber. Be here till then.” Before I could utter a word she was gone into the 15^th century.

Just opposite the cutout area, stairs to the 21^st century posed itself. While I was putting my jeans back on I took a refuge onto it and my girlfriend’s friend Varsha spotted me with my hands on my buttons and with a giggle, she started off, “Oh! So finally you are visiting her that is so nice.”

In an irritated voice, I could just say “Do I know you miss?”

Contrary to my suppositions, she was a very sweet girl. This was my first meeting with her (sure enough I hated her for four HBOs whereas I have to pirate search episodes every week, but let it be). She introduced herself very well and I explained to her that we had a pretty tough assignment on Language and Linguistics, so I am here just to help with that, but I am fooling nobody.

My girlfriend had blurted out everything in advance to her and I could get that from the coyness of her smile.

Anyway, she provided me with her spare key of the royal bedroom and whispered enthusiastically “Go, get her”. I asked her what did she meant, should I go to the 15^th century or something. But she just laughed and said, “You know nothing John Snow, it’s an idiom from the 21^st century. Don’t bother, go to the chamber." I felt a delight since now I could enter the bedroom on my own without being spotted by anyone. I was a bit angry with my girlfriend, but the anticipated pleasure made everything else null and void. 

I went inside the room; it was a giant hall with beautiful pastoral designs both on the roof and floor. Large family portraits were hung on the wall. I imagined myself in one of the frames, you know why.

The bed laid in the room was super soft. I wanted to jump on that but my bourgeois manners restrained my joys and I ended up putting things in order. The room was actually a bit messed up. I guess we were not the first couple that evening.

Almost at the same time when I was lurking inside his daughter’s bedroom, Maharaja Ranjit Singh was lurking around my single bed to get any clue of his daughter’s blasphemy.

My roommate had no idea where we went. Since being an IT student he was overtly focussed on 21^st century San Francisco. Anyway apart from history students who give a shit about the 17^th century. Since Maharaja found no clue about her daughter coming to the hostel and since he was very sure about the information, in a convoluted state of mind he took a seat on the sundas which was the closest resemblance of his throne in the 20^th century. While sitting on the sundas, in a confused state of mind, he took out a coin from his bag to make things more concrete.

He tossed this oddly shaped coin whenever he had to take important decisions in his life. The coin has its own story. It has some negative connotations around its broken edges and ugly poker faces.

Actually one of the king’s treasurers once tried to mint the coin. He wanted to make it lighter, but instead of losing the gold the coin corroded and when the King got to know about his act, he beheaded him with his own hands. People said the coin most of the time calls for death. So, the matter of my life and death was in maharaja’s hands. He tossed the coin, caught it in his palm and kept it inside his bag without giving it a look. Maybe he knew from the touch of the coin what was my fate, maybe not, who could tell, surely I can’t. The good news was that he left the premises without any further investigation.

I knew my fate was sealed, the moment I kept my foot in the royal chamber but who cares. I am not Sir Edmund Spencer, I have needs.

After almost half an hour, when I was about to sleep my girlfriend stealthily came into the room and stripped naked slid into the bed. Aroused by the sudden revelation of beauty I took my clothes off. We were in the ecstasy mode when suddenly protection came into my mind. I took up my jeans and was trying to get the condom when with a disappointed voice she asked

Saanjh (irritated): What the hell are you doing?

Ishmael (while kissing fervently): Nothing, putting up a condom.

Saanjh (kissing stopped): Hey, you are not going to wear a condom.

Ishmael (startled): Why not?

Saanjh (with a firm voice): It is my first time, and if you are not lucky enough may be my last time (with you of course). I don’t want any artificial thing. Anyway, our century has no latex. Our God saves us from pregnancies.

Ishmael: “Are you crazy?” This is what I thought I would say, but what I actually said was

Ishmael: Okay, as you like “Your Grace”.

Yeah, readers, I am not a nerdy nincompoop. I took her up by the waist and we had the time of our life.

Around midnight I heard a tap on the door. I took a hint from Don Juan and hid so well in the sheets that the old king came in, saw his daughter sleeping peacefully curled among blankets, took the coin out, spared my life and never got a hint of the broken hymen.

I felt as if I have cleared a UPSC exam. I was almost in tears, and yeah morons, I had sex. This is not one of the foolish Indian novels where nothing happens. Nothing means everything.

But now, this idiotic writer of mine is thinking about a tragic sequel. By making my girlfriend pregnant and as a causal effect me dead. A nice loathsome Aristotelian thought. So! Goodbye and remember

I am Ishmael.