This is the nick name taken by one of my friends from college on a community website. i asked him what does he mean, because firstly the words by themselves can give a different meaning? Encephalitis is the inflammation of the brain. Penitentiary is a prison for criminals.

He said it means, " Man is the prisoner of his own mind" or "You are what you think" So I had the following questions for him, to which I am still awaiting a response!


If man is prisoner of his own mind then i have these questions -
Is the mind different from the man?
If not whose the prisoner and whose the imprisoned?
Or is it that all men are split personalities to some extent?
Does this split personality / constant dichotomy make us externalise our own actions, when convenient rather than take the responsibility or own up?
Also, is it not that man has achieved what he has only through flight of imagination? Then why call it a prison?
If its a prison, its also a white canvas - a world of endless, infinite potential and possibilities. So why the negative thought process of making it a thing which restricts only?

Is there a choice?

A small yet significant question is continuosly occupying a small part of my RAM.

Do we have free will, OR, is everything on destiny and no matter what we have to accept it?

If we do have choice, then what is it? and in case we dont have a choice, then why are we here? to learn what ? tht god is omnipotent?

no answer coming forth, so blogging it down...may be some day will know.

All along my life I kept hankering after company. Call this fellow, call that friend. Little did I know how much a handicap that can be. Why do we need people around? They say man is a social animal. I can’t agree more, but does it mean one is not comfortable with himself? Does it mean that one needs some one else to appreciate, applaud or even criticize?

All my life, I kept asking for approval. How do I look? How do you like my bike? What do you think of my grades?

I was a child actor, having acted in many plays, tv serials and 2 films that were never that famous. But the acting happened to me at 5. I was too small to realize and at that time I did not, that all I was doing was asking for approval, applause and judgements. When in a more mature state, which I think I entered a bit earlier than usual, it was a way of life.

Here I was – a confident, bold, out spoken fellow. Speak only the truth and speak a lot. That was my mission – to make everyone aware of the reality, my reality, as I think of it now, cause there is really no “truth.” No black or white, just plain gray. Everything’s gray.

But there was a side of me which was diffident, confused, unsure of everything. My career, my academic choices. All were based on hearing a few people and jumping head long thinking it was my passion! It wasn’t mine it was theirs. They saw me as an actor, a performer, a film editor or a marketing guy. And I was left just that – a performer. He performs for whom? An audience.

What is a performer without an audience? Whom will he appeal to? Who will pat his back? Who will give a feedback, a criticism?

I kept living as if I am performing on stage. Living a loud life, everyone should know what I am thinking and should also react. I called it honesty, a virtue, I thought.

It took me 25 years, a quarter of my life, if I live a hundred, to realize that the audience was façade, it was a mirage. And what it meant really that I was a mask, a plain mask, a different mask each day, playing to the gallery, the empty gallery. In my self righteous behaviour I believed I was the victim. A victim of this bad world, the cunning wolf, the scheming witch! It took me long to accept that I was a rip off, of a person I interact with. I imitate him / her. Just to get that single nod of approval. I was literally begging for my existence which was but an expression or a little smile of the other.

I don’t know what has changed, is it the age, the wisdom or enlightenment? Suddenly, I was detached, like a bonded labourer set free. Un-believing at first, circumspect. Would I be able to pull it off? Could I stand by my self?

I am alone but not lonely. I am as lonely as I can be in a crowd, full of people who are just like me, struggling for approval. I thank my life, which has been my guru. She gave me the experience I hated her for, but soon was full of gratitude for it. The one lesson that she was teaching me was being comfortable with myself, with my solitude.

Can’t even say with my solitude ‘cause it means company of some thing. I am the solitude, I am the emptiness, I am the vacuum. Fill it with anything it always sucks it in, like a black hole. It doesn’t accept any gift, any offering, any help, any emotion, any shame, any guilt, any remorse, any applause, any approval. It is what it is by NOT being.

I am soaking in the solitude. I am enjoying myself. I am ecstatic but how does one show the ecstasy when no ones around to see it. But once I am here, I really don’t care. I don’t care if anyone reads this.

Posting it here some how says that all the words above are empty. It’s a vacuum, stay away or get sucked in!!

Our little Cupid is very busy these days. Usually I have noticed that December is a busy month, followed by February - you can guess why! But December is really special, the weather, the not-at-all cold for others but oh-so-cold for Mumbaikars, temperature does bring out the Cupid, shooting his Love-arrows all round.
So as is my style I went to interview him, on a cold December morning (Delhites say - "ha ha ha"). We met on the steps of Temple of Venus. Got to say, looks more like the rocks at Bandstand, than a temple but there we were. I got funny looks from some of the couples canoodling on the rocky terrain, which felt like a water bed to them I am sure. Well love is blind and also cushions the derriere, I must say. Obviously they were intrigued why I was there with a half naked small man with wings!! Well, to clear all doubts I walked a good five feet away from him. (Having heard some hair raising experiences in mental trauma especially to hostel guys after seeing Brokeback Mountain, which gives a whole new meaning to Male Bonding)

He was dressed in his customary, small, revealing white fluffy pants, and pink all over with small white wings, very inadequate to lift his fat podgy body with a beer belly - which by the way he calls love-potion belly! I was as always in my best pink suit. With a small device in hand (well it was my new cell ...just to clear any suspicions.), I walked to some-what smoother rock and decided the setting could not be better for a tete-a-tete with the puny "setting expert" himself!

What follows are excerpts from my interview with him.
(Disclaimer: Certain portions may be distorted, imagined or manipulated to make me look like a proud, intelligent bunny which is my mask for the audience i.e. everyone else!!)

Bugs: Well then lets start before this gets embarrassing. From when did you start this alleged activity of bringing people closer, which by the way our local trains are doing since 1853?

Cupid: As far as I can remember I am doing this thing for a few hundred centuries now! At least thats what I have put on my resume. Can back check that far?? (with a light sweat on his brow!)

Bugs: Of course my sources go way back...but I shall refrain from any such abominableactivity. So sticking to the point, why did you choose this profession, I mean, you could have easily afforded your beer and cheese by doing those Johnsons' Baby or Ponds commercials!!

Cupid (a bit perturbed): Excuse me!! I do not need to expose my buttocks to earn a living ok! By the blessing of Venus, I do quite well selling my love-potions and I also have a side contract with a greeting card company..psst...please do not sena I mean, say this to anyone, cos last time they managed to grab my designer dhoti (by Rohit Bal of course) but just-in-time came the...no ...not the Japanese...the Women Against Child Abuse (WACA) and they whacked the hell out of the hooligans thinking I was a child. Well at least the looks helped somehwhere!

To answer your question I shall say that Goddess Venus herself came in my dreams and said I have to do a 5 min presentation on this topic " Porter's 5 Forces Model of 3rd Party induced Love." At the time I cursed, but realizing that I would not clear my archery course without her grace...and I mean grace marks...hahaha..you know I had to.. (laughs till pink turns to magenta..personally mine are better but I joined in cos had to humour him, pun intended.)

On doing the research I found out that Love can be induced between 2 souls by a 3rd party using 5 forces - humour, caring, friendship, optimism and chemistry. In order to serve humanity I made it my life's work!

Bugs (lost at 5 min something but with an incredible look as if seeing Mallika in full clothes): Wow! So can you elaborate on this. (Usually jounalists do this when they haven't a clue as to what the respondent just said cos they are listening to the sounds in their ear-piece saying - "Ask him this after 5 mins....go to camera 2...pan across the slum...ok..ok...break...break ...commercial" etc..heard this from a TV News reporter friend!)

Cupid (proud at the fact that his research made me curious): See, always I act through agents. I do not and can not afford to reach such a wide audience by myself. So what these agents do, is use these 5 forces to bring 2 common friends together.
Humour: Use of humour soothes the nerves of the boy and girl.
Caring: If he/she doesnt care for both, he/she can not give a neutral judgement as to whether they should continue or drift apart for their own good.
Friendship: Ideally friendship with both is an ideal environment, but some agents have gone really out on a limb and cheek to get the girl who doesnt know him to like his friend.
Optimism: This is an eternal force multiplier as Zeus says which keeps the yield curve always sloping upwards showing some progress.
Chemistry: This is when the agent acts as a catalyst to hasten the process because of a villian entering the scene.

Bugs: OK cool.For me this is fine, but can you give an example so that the lay man can understand this thing? (Read the disclaimer...)

Cupid: Theres this unusual case (well all cases are unusual), the agent is a quirky, mad, fellow but somehow fulfills the 5 forces conditions to become an agent.The boy is a well mannered, sober(when not drunk!) fellow with a stiff upper lip like the snooty British.The girl is again a whacky female with mood swings greater than deliveries of Irfan Pathan or Waqar.

Due to complexity of the characters' personal anomalies, the case has been escalated to me. The girl is intelligent, self-aware but a bit selfish. Not entirely in a bad sense but shes too proud to even let close ones know her sorrow. Independent, smart and has piercing eyes!The boy is handsome, well brought up, but a bit given to romantic delusions. Also described to be a bit too proud by some section of society. The process was started by him.The Agent is as mentioned earlier mad, quirky, thinks he can help people but ends up speaking the truth and antagonising a many. Some surveys described him to be a loner, reserved and focussed where as others described him to be fun-loving, friendly, outgoing and confused person. That speaks for his schizo...well...multi-faceted personality.

The situation is that though the agent wants them together because they make a good pair, he's somewhat more concerned about the boy as the girl seems a fortress. Also the agent often has issues with the girl and vice versa thus violating the friendship condition. To be fair the girl can get a bit irritating at times. The boy meanwhile thinks everything is under control according to a strategy on the battlefield but is as confused as a baby in a topless bar!

Lets see how this turns out! Even I can not intervene in free will, you know. Can just keep aiming my arrows at their hearts or bottoms as the case may be and leave it to free will.

Bugs (now snoring...zzzzzzz...wakes up thinking of his carrots): Excellent! With this I take your leave, thank you for your time (and the lullaby), do keep me posted of this particular case.

With that I begin to walk back as the Cupid hovers precariously on the tiny wings in mid-air trying to aim at a couple far away. Half way towards the road, I suddenly felt a short metal prick on my butts. For a minute felt a tingling sensation and then the feeling vanished. Right then, bang in front, I saw the fat Opera singer I always run away from. Before I could realise what was about to happen, a thought came to my mind!!

Did the damned Cupid clear his archery course?