You do remember. But of course you do. We put you there. You were nowhere, and we plucked you out of nowhere and put you there. There, not just somewhere. There. In that most important place, or sort of important at the time. Sort of important before we downgraded it from being important to being a really not at all important sort of place. With your help. Remember? Remember. For your own good. Bhagwan ke liye yaad karo. Aur bhagwan ke liye nahin to apne liye hi sahi.

Who do you even think you are? Well, my fault really, chill, it was my fault. You were my doing. And now what’s clear to me is that you are trying to be my undoing. Dekh lena hoga, we shall see. There’s time. There’s always time. Ask anyone around. Ask Time itself. There’s always time, it’s the one thing that’s constantly getting exhausted but there seems no end of it.

I can’t even recall where you were, where we got you, how we got you. Who told us about you? And why? And why did we go through all the effort of getting to you and placing you in all of those places, or cushions really, cushions that you are meant to sink into and do little else but appreciate the depths you can sink into in good quality cushions (rare Siberian swan down, from their fluffy underbellies if you will) because we expect no better of you. What we expect of you, we shall ourselves do, worry not, we shall not put you to the strain and stress of work, that was never the idea. Chill.

But you, I don’t know what godforsaken offending heap we picked you off; you have a mind of your own, and you’ve kept it from us all this while, which is clever of you but not comforting for us. We must think of what to do with you. You who were my pick, and did my bidding and bending, you who went out there and played loyal rubber stamp, you turn out to be more than any or all of those aforementioned qualities. I have taken note. You are an exemplar you may believe from the way you have decided to act recently. We shall see. We may require to make an example of you. Somehow. There are ways. We have demonstrated we can find, even invent, ways of doing things that we really want to do. And to you, you Hn’ble Sir, we do want to do things. Worse things, rest assured, than the things you are doing to us.

The evil that men (and/or women) do

(And I trust apologies to the Bard will do)

Lives after them, if only in the memory of a few

So be warned, they will come and seek stuff in lieu.