Always told you things will happen after NothingHappened. After that long gaping hiatus pervaded by normality, the utter boredom of it. Always told you I would shake things up. That is why you embraced me, that is why I am here: doing things that never happened in NeverHappened. Don’t be alarmed, you’ll survive. Though only if I will. That’s the plan, you see, what happens now is boobytrapped for my survival, but you could be collateral beneficiaries. Depends on which side of things you are. Choose your side. In this age, you are either what happened, or you are nothing. We broke the age of NothingHappened, we broke it at least in two. And the debris of that breakage you can see.
It is visible from the moon, you know, that breakage. Or wreckage. Better word, I am told.
I have friends who tell me. Better words from not so good ones. I will tell you his name, but only if you promise to be good. Deal? Deal. Be good. Here’s the name: The Saurus. Fellow knows his stuff, has his uses. He can give me the right words at the right time for the wrong kind of things. Like he says I should always say, Oh, Duck! when I feel like saying Oh, Duck! and not to bother with how others say it or hear it. When they say what I am doing is tantamount to ducking disaster, he says, well — and he bats his hooded eyelids in that most endearing fashion, like you know they are false because they are so long but they don’t even fall, you know, like real-real false ones — so he says well, as a matter of fact, this is exactly what — ducking disaster!
Anyway. I am at ease now, relieved by the real meaning of this and that, what the duck! Folks see ducks and start ducking all over the place and crying fowl and pheasant and what the duck else! I am a builder and some folks think I am bulldozing. What the duck! Can’t you see? The Saurus, look at it, what would you call this? All these arrangements I have marshalled? Give me a word for it. In fact give me several words, as many as the number of times I change clothes so that with every change I have a changed word. Behold tonnage of cement and sand. The galactic lengths of iron and steel. The scores and scores of armoured ranks. Whatever for? To build, you stupid, not to bulldoze.
Don’t you know what this is all about? I am building. A Wall. Not a loser Wall. A winner Wall. It’s my revenge for the revenge I have no gut for. I changed the field of play, I shifted goalposts. They think they can come and become visible on my soil? Well, theek hai, bataata hoon. Not batata, not potato. Bataaataaa. Like, I shall tell you, I shall show you.
I shall show you from the moon. You think you have the only Wall that can be seen from down there? Just you wait. I am building one too, and it will spear into you and fill your lungs with so much molten concrete and mortar you will choke on it till you have become incapable of remembering what the meaning of a Wall is. You invade me on Earth, I shall diminish you in the Cosmos; this, here, is the Wall of all walls, layers and layers of it, and I just started building. I will build and build till there is no place to build anymore and the Cosmos begins to gape in awe. And you think this is about you, you puny creatures who brought me where I am, from where I command you to retreat because I wish to vacate this place because I need it to accord you pride of place in the eyes of the Cosmos? You fools, you think this is about you? This Wall? Go on, delude yourselves, cry yourselves till my kingdom comes again. You are not the intended ones, you are merely collateral damage of my grand design. Mere debris. Go have a look from the moon, you loons.
Chalo dildaar chalo
Chaand ke paar chalo
Jeet yaa haar chalo
Hum hain taiyaar chalo.
