I was trying the You, Man and Human joke you know? Anywho.
Come to me humans! I promise I won’t make you type out the ‘captcha’
to prove yourself. No conditions applied.
The last month has been difficult, to say the least. It has
been a euphemism for solitary confinement given to prisoners. No lips to make words
in response to mine. I’ve lost contact with the physical human race. The only
human interaction I have is with the back of the head and the left profile of
the Uber driver every morning on my way to the office. The office; which is a
vast expanse (empty room allotted to me) of nothingness where my silence echoes
(where my sketches reproduce by themselves every night).
The aamras guy, the dhaba guy, a few students walking around
in the college campus: they’re all empty souls. They’re living in oblivion of
my existence. Nobody will acknowledge my existence. Only the ghosts of
Conjuring 2 visit me in my lonely apartment at night. And the dreams of Andy
Samberg.
A few digital conversations validate the existence of humans
who still like me. But who knows, they could be exceptionally trained bots,
right? Let me accept my new low and tell you how I had a 25 minute long conversation
(albeit an interesting one) with the Zomato inconvenience help chatline one
midnight which I thought was only creatively different but all meaning the same
automated responses.
Maybe this is what
solipsism is like. Maybe you’re my imagination, all of you? And you’re all
fading away. Was the nose always between two eyes? Was the anatomical
arrangement always like this? Did you not have two tentacles by your ears? Am I
just going paranoid because I am devoid of interactive human beings? C’mon.
Laugh at my humor. Compliment my beauty. Encourage my efforts. Appreciate my
ideas. Make your presence be felt.
I will hug you and feed you chocolates. Or whatever it is
that humans eat. Come hither, to my side.
