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Monkeys, Oh! I hate them. They are so annoying. Like the last time? They took my purple shirt from the terrace, removed all its button, tear it all up. What scares me the most is that door of my room is of glass. I always hope they don’t break it. My mum says monkeys don’t like mirrors. Where they see it, they shatter it. Every time I look at them, I wish they didn’t exist. But wait, if they didn’t exist, how would we have been here with our glass doors? We must be thankful to them for this beautiful life.

When it comes to the existence of humans, there are many theories. Each religion comes with its presentation, and none of them satisfies me. However, I love Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution. That our ancestor monkeys adapted new skills and environment to become humans. We are still evolving like the palmaris longus (is a muscle visible as a small tendon located in the wrist that helps mammals who move with their forelimbs) is missing in fourteen per cent of the people and might disappear in future as it’s no longer needed. There are more muscles like this. The tail bone is another example. The evaluation is not only physical but mental too. Our wish to become better, to do something new, is taking us back from where we come. It is taking us towards our decline.

The human decline didn’t start with Modernization. It began when our ancestor monkeys formed into humans. Those carefree monkeys who used to scratch their ass in public, now started to hide their tool with clothes. They were ashamed of their naked soul and started to cover it up with artificiality. They had thousands of square feet’s homes, and now they began to build ten feet houses. And those monkeys who had no boundaries, build a society of rules. They had no relationships, just casual sex but love and respect. Sex was just a part of life not THE part of life. And now human monkeys have to make love with society’s chosen to rule.
Not only forced love, but they also have force-work. So, they cut some trees and make a cabin. His workplace is not a jungle anymore. It is a factory of brick and wall where he is chained morning till night. His other animal friends are not friends anymore, they are his slave now, some to plough, some to food, some to ride and some to protection.
And now the modern human monkey is looking for its real self. Again it is roaming naked like it did in the jungle. What else could be the best example of this than The Nude restaurant where people enjoy being naked, wherefrom staff to customers, all are naked. These types of restaurants are becoming new normal and popular.
People pay to slap them just to leave social media. Pavlok, Maneesh Sethi, hired a woman who would slap him every time he veered toward Facebook. Look at the filters on social media where people love using doggy or cat filters. They love to hang out, make love and are scared of commitment. Many people are quitting their five to nine jobs to live unpredictably and in wanders. The modern monkey is fed up with the walls and wants to feel the jungle. It is again removing the buttons of the shirt for the sake of evolution.
The question is still there. Are we evolving or making ourselves worst than the last version? We want to get rid of the technology we made. We want to move back to that uncivilized world. The truth is we were more human as animals and are more animals as humans. However, as Pluto ( the great greek philosopher) believed, imitation can never be the reality. It only ruins itself (imitation) and originality, both. In our process to become humans we became animals and in the process of becoming animals again, let’s see what we become.

My mum doesn’t like when I take pictures. It’s not her fault. She behaves as other grandparents do. I was born in her mid-forties. Hence, my parents are old. And Yay! I won’t have to face the generation gap because, with god’s grace, I face a double generation gap. But it’s beautiful to get the love of parents and grandparents from the same people. Okay, enough is enough. Let’s switch back to the topic.
As I said, mommy doesn’t like it when I take photos while we go on a walk. She says a girl shouldn’t behave like this. What are people going to say? That her daughter uses phone too much. Well, that’s true. No one should be addicted to the phone. Even if you are intoxicated with the beauty of nature.
Trust me, I don’t take selfies. I am not so obsessed with myself that I take photos of my face rather than nature. I love to capture nature. Everything in that, dried leaves, barren trees, dying sun, and flying butterflies. My phone is filled with beautiful greens, yellows, reds and browns.
And my mum? It’s not her fault her either. We live in a village. Life is different in the countryside. In the city, you don’t care much about people. However, in the village, we do. (sometimes too much). What people say, doesn’t bother me. I am conscious of my mother’s thoughts.
The question is how do I make my mum understand this? That nature refines my soul. The trees do not only give oxygen, but they also give fresh stories to me. And my beloved Sun? It’s the pool of my energy. I click pictures to see them in my solitude. It gives me a vibe to believe in myself. Plus, it makes me feel I am a good photographer. I made a file of Virat Kohli’s photos in school. I still have that file. So, how can I leave so much? For society? That always has departed great lovers. No, I can’t and won’t end this affair for people. I will fight with my family until they agree to fix my marriage with my loving nature with a wedding album.

It was late at night, and I was waiting for my boyfriend’s message. He was doing the night shift, which meant I had to wake up with him until he was awake. I loved waking up with him and talking. However, waiting for his reply was boring and staying awake when everybody was asleep, was laborious. I couldn’t wait to tell him that I had finished my short story. Well, telling him about this was worthless. He was not very fond of reading. The only poem he had read was “Autumn”. I had written it for him on valentine’s day. He read it, appreciated it, and asked me to focus on my studies as my parents do. He was nothing like the man of my dreams. We were the perfect example of ‘opposite attracts’, like two poles of magnets that stick together after being opposite. 

We both found each other boring. He was in love with Salman, and my favourite was Shahrukh. I was a writer, and he was not a reader. I loved nature, and he enjoyed parties. I was an introvert and he was very extroverted. We were so opposite that we disliked one another’s choice. Seriously, if I had to gift him something, I would choose anything that I don’t like because, if I don’t like it, he certainly will. I hate those dramas where they romanticize the ‘opposite-attracts’ theme. It’s not that easy to be in love with someone who is the hell opposite of you. Sometimes you wish to be mutual on likes.

In these eight years, I wondered, if I could find one thing we both liked. My quest was still on. I picked up my phone and checked he hadn’t replied yet. The message,’ I ate Gulab Jamun ‘ was still without a blue tick. Hence, I asked him what do you like the most Gulab Jamun or Rasgulla?. Because people don’t like both of them equally. They always have one as their favourite. I loved delicious Gulab Jamun, and I was sure that he might not agree with me. I kept on thinking, what could he reply? I was desperately hoping it is Gulab Jamun this time, not rasgulla. I was tired of us being so different. I prayed to God,” God, please let it be Gulab Jamun this time. There must be something that we both like’. The prayer got interrupted as my phone vibrated and a message popped up in my eyes,’ Gulab Jamun’, he replied. My eyes widened with surprise and happiness. Finally, I found holly grail. The quest was finally over. We both mutually liked something. Oh! We are going to eat Gulab Jamun on our next date. His message took me on cloud nine. It felt no less than an orgasm. I was happy and made his night happier. We texted all night, and I slept in the morning. 

I woke up with happiness in my smile. I was so in love with him that I picked my phone up and started to read those messages, again. I loved to read our old messages. I was scrolling up the screen and enjoying the text. I read the message where I had asked him what he loved the most, Gulab Jamun or rasgulla? I read his reply,’ Ragulla’. Wait, what? He said he liked Gulab Jamun. So what is rasgulla doing here? Is this what he texted last night?. The text can’t change by itself. Did I read it wrong then? How can I read rasgulla as Gulab Jamun? But I did that. How did it happen?

After staring at the screen for ten minutes, I understood what had happened. It was no magic that changed the message. It was my mind that did so. I was so focused on Gulab Jamun that I couldn’t see rasgulla in that text. Like they say,’ What you think, you see, and what you see you do.’ It made me aware that our perspective decide what we see. The incident was not about dessert only. It was about perception. 

You must be thinking, what about me and my boyfriend’s mutual favourite? Well, the quest is still on. If I get to know it in future, I will tell you by updating the article.