The nasty self


Everybody talks to self and some of us even take it seriously. One night, I had trouble convincing my other self that it must stop it’s talk. It’s talk— frivolous, pretentious of being grave and like most of the times, a threat to my peace. Problems in the world are many, and they are all dung and dust unless they concern human development, freedom, justice and peace. Although there are certain other family issues that should bother me, like forgetting the lunch bag at home and getting to be hauled at by mother, or my sister stunning father by putting cool Whatsapp statuses, or when father manages to inspect my display pictures, which he usually thinks are not suitable — every time for a new reason. He’s so much like an unhappy manager at times.
My other self argued that the issue was of equal significance. It was this: I believed that I had hurt a colleague and my other self was pressing me to apologise. All I wanted was to escape. I then asked my other self to better be quiet and it snapped back. It said, ‘I was minding my own business till you started digging your nose.’
I really do not dig my nose but my other self ensures that it says all the nasty things it can make up against me. It was not sane enough to abuse my other self, which is after all ‘self’, however sheepish and peevish. So I tried to shut the voice. I began singing, to which my other annoying self replied, ‘You sing well, but have
you heard someone fart?’
Then I imagined my other self raising its monstrous chin and nodding. ‘It’s just slightly better.’
What a great simile!
‘You bloody monster! It’s slightly better than the sound of a fart?’
‘No! Haha. I mean the fart sounds just better.’
I imagined the monstrous self banging a table.
There’s a popular term in Hindi for fools. It translates into English as lid. And my other self is the lid of the box that was never made.
It said so softly, ‘Yeah, I know you don’t like me, but isn’t that just your personal choice?’

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