Know who I am? Look carefully.
I may be one of you. Or I may be not. Nobody can tell these days. I, for sure, cannot tell.
Can you?
Fortunate you.
So tell me.
Tell me about myself. I do not know about myself. I am tired. I am about to fall. I do not know how I came here. But I know this is where I had to come. Am I right? Have I come to the right place?
I am here. Surprised? I shan’t blame you.
How could I ever be here? Wherever have I arrived from?
Anyhow. I am here. Somehow. You would not want to know how. They told me I could not. But I said I can. This is my land. I went all the way, and nobody asked. I have come back all the way, and nobody should ask. Nobody should have the right to ask. This is my land. And up above there, that is my sky.
Main aa gaya hoon. Now tell me. Sing me a song. Which one will you sing? Do you have one? Can you sing one? Is this a time to sing? Tell me. I am waiting. For answers. Tell me what song you are about to sing this night. This night that you can see, this illumined night. Look at what’s behind me. I know you cannot see me, but you can see what’s behind me. See that? See the sky? See that ball of light? See me?
I am the Lunatic. Look at what is behind me, look at what illumines this image. I am the Lunatic. I am the phantom they made of me on my journeys. I have become greater than myself.
You made me so. You sent me here. And I am here. Now deal with me. Would you know how to? Would you tell me why you should? Do you even know how this has happened? The image? This lunacy?
Even I do not know. But I am here. Having travelled. In this darkness, silhouetted. There is this mad moon in the sky. There is me. Or the shadow of me. Which you may or may not make out. Or want to.
But there is something you cannot choose. My presence here is not of your choice. My presence here is not your fancy. I am here.
Please. Get out of the way, let me be. You have no idea who I am or how I am here. You could not care. Nor do I. The truth is you would never know. The greater truth is, you would not want to know.
But I must say a few things. I am not here on sufferance. I am not here at anyone else’s pleasure. Or need. Or requirement. Or convenience.
Or inconvenience. I am not here to be described. Now, take that. I am here. Until I am gone. But who knows about that. Who knows who will be gone and who will stay. And until when. Who’s to tell? I cannot.
I am here. It is the dark of night. It is the night of nothing else. It is a well-lit night. A lunatic night, justly. And I am here. Despite. A carbuncled heart. A corroded head. Unwantedness branded on my back. A little bit dead, but not all. A little bit alive, but not all. Let’s not even talk about those things. Things happen. You see it on the moon as well, those blotches. Look closely.
Anyhow. And anyway. Choose how it is you say it. I am here. A thousand miles from where I was. A million draughts of water, plain, even polluted, water, down from where I set out. A million rays of sun. A relentless emptying of the belly, a hole in the soul. I have arrived here upon all that. You deem me hapless, I deem myself a hero. Having conquered. And arrived.
I have no choice. Chal hat! I have come here after all and more of that, make room, I want to fall down where I can. Chal hat!
I am home
Your bearded gnome
I will get back to you
And I will likely say shoo!