I put in a bowl of chillies in the microwave. And a bowl of ginger. And one of peppercorn. Shut the door and pressed cook.
Some of us prefer reading, some prefer videos, many do both. I prefer reading on social media; it’s quicker. A video usually takes two minutes to convey two words. So, for people like me, I am transcribing the video I would be posting tomorrow on YouTube.
Now, getting back to the action: I open the oven door on ‘ding’ and pull out the finished dish. A hardbound book; which about smells OK. Then I go into one monologue—
“My first book. Think it’s a bit late in life for a first book? … (rubbing bald head thoughtfully, or thoughtlessly) you are right—late in life—par life tho hai na?
No it’s not a cook book. Nor a cooked up rant about perceived injustice, inequality or manufactured micro aggressions. Nor a dirge for planet earth. You cannot open a newspaper or magazine, or hear a government proclamation without the ritual knee-bending to climate change. I just got sick of the gallons of bilge spewed day in day out. As a signal to their virtual virtue. As a noble mask to the emptiness inside and their irrelevance outside.
So I thought it was time for a nice uplifting story amidst all this gloom and doom. Cheers. This book won’t change your life; it’s more like an antacid tablet. Chew on it. It is for those among you who, not swept away by the flow, sometimes pause a moment and think independently.”