QUESTIONS SHE ASKED ME

A friend of mine once asked me what I thought about the relationship between youth and principles. Here’s what I told her:

Youth and Principles?

I hear they're just friends. Principles lost his heart to Youth and began thinking of her day and night. He wanted to get more serious, but Youth was all, "I don't want to spoil what we already have." Of course Principles, having lost his heart to haughty Youth, was pissed. Hoping against hope, he reminded Youth of the time they'd made out at Revolution's house. But apparently that was just a one-time thing. And besides, Youth protested, they were very drunk.

Seriously? I have no idea how to answer that question. It is like asking me, "What's the relationship between the name of a book and the subject it deals with?" I could write a book about it.

The probable answer? Their relationship is big, important, and complicated. It should be simple, keen and pure, I know. But such is life, and such the matters of the heart.

Upon hearing that, she was silent for a moment, chewing around what I had said for a while. Then she asked me whether I also thought that time has power to heal all that arrogance usually does to youth. I answered:

That is another tragedy. Youth is in the habit of buying herself more Time whenever there is a dearth of it. The mall is just around the corner and Youth does not mind. She is quite rich, you see, being the child of Innocence, and thus quite used to living the easy life. In fact, I recall only one time when she had a little break in her salad-days.

It was the season of Elections. Government and his associates were mining for buried gold on University’s land, which had been sold to Government’s father a decade ago. Youth’s house was just behind the place and its foundations were weak. When Government and co. accidentally struck the bedrock under Youth’s place, the roof caved in.

Youth was furious. She liked her security, you see. So she made a few calls and then went over to Revolution’s place, where War, Utopia, Facebook and Zeal were already present. They concocted an outrageous plan and with it, Government and his associates’ hopes of finding buried gold under University’s land were brought swirling down.

But all was not happy. In the great tumult, Zeal had gone mad. Rumours said he might have fled to a terrorist camp in the hills. Utopia lost her life to one Stanley Kubrick’s bullet (which he had shot through a strange ‘camera-gun’ that was loaded through a complex clockwork mechanism and had the words ‘Hello Vietnam’ printed along the barrel). And, it was whispered, that while War was breathing its last breaths, Youth “had to” sacrifice Revolution for the greater good. Only Facebook came out of the battle unscathed, and richer at that. The great strife was over and won, but not without costs. And all this… for what?

So Youth could buy yet more time.

Now, may I answer plainly?

To youth, time is cheap. I know it for a fact. Youth is greedy and afraid of change, and it always fights to prolong itself. A youngster would forever stay young and an old man would always dream of youth and greener days. We all like to feel young, and in wanting for a mask, we soon become the disguise. It’s always been a rule.

Time cannot heal youth of the wounds it acquires by its actions. Youth fights too well, you see, and it is always a bit younger than us.

Over this, she pondered longer yet. Last of all, she asked me, “What do you believe in, Anant? What stirs you? What is it that lights you up with fire, with longing for change?” Then, suddenly self-conscious, she asked me again, “What do you believe in, Anant?”

Art. Revolution, philosophy and all that can bugger itself. I love art. Is there more to say?