You must have noticed those things you most often do not notice. Or fail to notice. Or do not bother to notice. Or notice and glaze over because you believe it not worth your notice.

Those things you often regret you didn’t notice. And must pay the price for. Those little things, deliberately little. And deliberately tucked away somewhere it is tough to notice. Somewhere in the crowd of things or colours or the clamour of words. Like a cricket ball coming at you from a height gets lost. In the glare of the sun. In the dappled whirl of fans. In the noise, all of that noise. And you lose it, and that is no good, is it?

That’s how this gets lost too, this thing you ought to have caught. You know what it is although you often care about it not. It comes with a little dingbat sort of marker usually called an asterisk and it actually hints at a risk: CONDITIONS APPLY. Good thing to remember at the best and worst of times; good thing to perhaps get tattooed on a part of your body you do not miss as you open your eyes each morning. Do anything, but always remember: CONDITIONS APPLY. Even to things they tell you are unconditional. Sweet lie, that. Nothing’s unconditional, love least of all. Put that to test if you get the chance, then write back, tell us how that went.

So grow up. Stop beating your breast or whatever it is you beat when angry and frustrated, about not having freedom. This or that freedom. Freedom for this or freedom for that. There is freedom, I shall show you. Conditions apply. You need to exercise the right kind of freedoms and you shall see just how much freedom you have. You say good things about me and you have freedom. You flay the ones who flay me and you have freedom. You say things we want you to say and you have freedom. You say other kinds of things, things we don’t like, things our detractors like and lap up, things that we do not want to say, well in that case put on your looking glass and read what follows the asterisk at the bottom somewhere: CONDITIONS APPLY. There is freedom, but it is not always free, bhai. There may be a price to pay. Size of the price depending on the degree of our disapproval of what you’ve said. Who told you freedom comes for free? Did you not read history? We are changing it, of course, but even with changes the truth about freedom always was it isn’t free; there’s a fee. And you pay. Be not fooled.

The flag flapping and fluttering

In the breeze that’ll only be free

And someone close loudly wondering

And what if that breeze was trysting with a tree.