Talking To Tommy version 1.1

Insult Of The Day: Thanks dude, you're a saint...bernard.

I had just gotten back from Nazir's birthday outing a few minutes ago, and decided to do a little contemplation. It had been a long week that resulted in me having a very disoriented, unorganized mental disposition. I had an urgent need to sit down, drink chocolate milk and sort out the pile of crap that cluttered my head.

So I sat down, cross-legged, with my eyes closed, but my mind wide open. I did so in my room, the lights off, and the blinds turning away the haunting caress of the moonlight. Not to forget the lights from the opposite block that were threatening to totally kill the mood. I set myself alone against the vast, tempestuous universe inside my head that had existed for 19 short years...

From a nebulous corner of it, popped a manically-grinning, red-leather-wearing, handsome male kid with scruffy brown hair. "Tommy!" I greeted my long-lost imaginary friend. Or was it imaginary long-lost friend. Either way, he stood there in my mind like he did when I last saw him a few months ago. His trademark chicken drumstick-cum-magic wand stayed motionless in his hands like a motion-detector-phobe.

"Hey Suffy," Tommy greeted in reply. His manner then abruptly changed to a sombre demeanor I found slightly discomforting. "Man you were exuding really negative vibes coming in here. It was like the spiritual equivalent of a post-chilli fart."

"Ooooh that's nasty!" I exclaimed with a cringe. I didn't need to react that way, frankly speaking, but I needed an excuse to cringe the discomfort away. "Right, dude. I'm sorry. You know, I came in here for some meditation...something to put me in my place. To ponder the future while I sort out the past."

"That is very unnatural behaviour," said Tommy, "for somebody who, up till recently, lived for the here and now."

Somehow, his words hit me hard. My hands groped around for the glass of milk, found it, and brought it up to my mouth. My hands then tipped the glass towards my mouth. I realised I had made a misjudgement when I felt the cold, liquid embrace of chilled chocolate milk on my nose. "Hey," I retorted, my nose a richer chocolate, "with a dad like mine, you'd always think of the future. You know, if my dad taught me anything, during those few times I actually listened to him, it'd be to not fear death or being old. He was always talking to me about how he's gonna retire, or even - I'm not joking - die, soon and all the responsibility's gonna be on me to run things. But I could tell that deep down inside, he's prepared for me to fuck things up. And if I did, he wouldn't mind just labouring on, bending himself over twice with the load. He wouldn't be scared if it killed him."

I paused, catching my breath. Not that I had any in the realm of my imagination. But I greatly welcomed the respite. "Yeah we talked bout that. But we never had the 'birds and the bees' talk. Never did, man."

Tommy paused, then said, "My old man and I did, one time when I was 8. I'll show you."

My mind's eye closed, and opened again. There in front of me, was a smaller, younger Tommy, his hand bereft of drumsticks. Next to him was a man with scruffy red hair donning a brown leather full-body suit. The man, who I presumed was Tommy's dad, was reading to him a book.

"Birds," the man read. "B-I-R-D-S. They can fly in the air. Some can't, though, and those birds are what we call 'FOOD'." The young Tommy cooed.

The man continued, "Bees. B-E-E-S. They fly, too. And they can make HONEY. Now, when you have a bee and a bird, here's what you do: You get honey from the bee, and you marinate the bird. And then you skewer the bird, and grill it over a fire. And then, you eat it..." The young Tommy drooled.

My mind's eye closed, and opened again. "That was not what I had in mind, Tommy," I said when I returned to the universe that swirled liquid in my mind.

"Ah," Tommy said. "But a lot of what you do nowadays started off as what you did not have in mind, don't you think?"

"You know, Tommy," I said. "It's not so nice to be so...truthful."

Continued in version 1.2...