I've had more curious human interactions, though - like a male prostitute in Noida pulling at my shorts, or a barber in Lucknow demonstrating how he does 'it' by gyrating against the floor of his barbershop. Humans are shy creatures, that venerate comfortable presence of their own gender to break into their unique jig. They perceive - or so I perceive them as - life as a punishment, with lots of time to wile around, and the more creative one gets, the lesser a punishment it feels. This is, however, what I refer to as the titular "madness".
The madness I'm talking about is acting upon impulse towards acts unheard of, one that makes people certain of your being of a different constitution, one that makes for memories to keep. It is this madness that saw these two guys darting away for JNU in the middle of the night - a Friday night - in funny attire, that might allude they began a day too early under some creeping senility at this young age.
What they were really under, though, was a split - on a mental plane, a grip of that powerful titular phrase, and on a physical plane, jugloads of rum punch. Whether it was their consumption in the physical plane that influenced their mental plane, or vice versa, is akin trying to solve the chicken-and-egg problem. Least said, the virtue of madness was visible in either of the planes, and rest assured, it certainly wasn't the madness of alcohol dictating them beyond the point of exit from their domestic environs. What they did, is translate their madness into a 2-hr gambol amidst sleepy nature's dominion inside the campus. It was a discovery of new by reliving the old. Brash, loud and in gay abandon.
They made for their way back nearing 2 (in the AM), equipped with some paranthas and juice (packed from 24x7) for a refuel. It was on this return leg that their tired legs were complemented by tired vocal chords from arguing with the law that stood right at their mouth of what they called (and had to prove) as their home - in simple English: they were flagged down at a police barricade at entrance of their colony. The police at night has nothing much to do, but hassle the regular joe. And hassle they did, these two guys, looking unbelievably disheveled, inappropriately dressed in sweaty attire at this hour.
It was futile for 'em trying to make the Police get these five things:
- that some people are not like all people
- that some people have curious/active lives, and hobbies
- that some people have independent existence, and under this they do a lot of stuff "when" they feel like, not "when they should" feel like
- that some people feel safe in this city (which may be an independent evaluation on their part, based on a wider range of variables than what our 'protectors' themselves consider)
- that criminals and terrorists don't come on a platter or talk with courtesy or claim ownership of things
After the routine, they were let go. It was only bullishly playful, so that was it. By the end of the convincing-the-law part, what I mentioned at starting of this post happened. The policeman apparently wanted to check my legs to see if my claims were 'solid' or not; I hope I proved myself. But I didn't mind - that's just some more strange madness to complement our night with.
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