The Protagonist

The city is me, he thought, and nodded as if affirming that thought. Vibrant yet composed, changing yet constant, and occasionally man enough to live upto the accusations that fly its way. There’s also something about that glass of smoothie he just drank. Something about looking askance and slurping the last two sips, even though there would be a noise that could not be kept down. There’s something about the smile at that little triumph, an act so public, a thought so private. As the face contorts with wrinkles, the smile still remains. The same smile, he reminisced, that came to him when finishing up the cream on the biscuit and throwing the rest away. And never getting caught. Triumph. He jogged through the rain with that little smile of his. Next to him on the bus, someone was carrying ‘The brief history of time’. What about the protracted histories of mankind, he thought? The million universes that exist simultaneously within each second? Like a star born, to die. What about them? What about the little triumphs, and the smiles and the strange sensations that would fill up those universes? What about the music we create and the songs we write, all contributing to the symphony that would never be heard? Every man is a universe by himself. Every man's life is a full length stage production, with all the drama and the music and the tragedy that Shakespeare could never imagine. This is a blockbuster that unfurls every second. And you are a part of it. You are a part of my drama, pretending not to follow the plot at times. But there you are, reading a book next to me, staring out the window, cajoling your kid, eyeing the pretty girl next to you. Your life is a subplot of mine. Look, we even have theories like six degrees of separation to give you hints that in fact, we are connected. So, thank you for playing your part, even though I can’t tell you in as many words and you will never understand if I did. The smile plastered to his face, the superstar got up and exited the bus to a downpour. Life is one long ‘take’, he thought, till the director gives the command to ‘cut’ the scene. In that moment that he saw the whole universe revolve around him, he spread his arms and let the drops envelope him, sheathing him in reflections and refractions. A spotlight, if there was one. Then, with a mix of humility and pride, he bowed.