WHAT CAN THEY DO?

Hi Friends !!!

This is the first chapter of my book, the hilariously funny book of metaphysical and philosophical satire, 'The Molecular Slaves'. Hope that you shall like what you see. 

CHAPTER 1 - WHAT CAN THEY DO?

 I once remarked to my nonchalant, indifferent neighbor that we are enslaved in more ways than one. He agreed indifferently. I said to him that we are slaves to all kinds of vile machinations, including those of the tiny molecules that we are made up of. He then got livid, which was an achievement for my rhetoric, considering his usually placid temper and flaccid face.

 “They are infinitesimally small”, he expostulated. “What the hell can these scum that cannot even be seen do?” he hollered. The ignominy of being felled and fettered by something that was ultra-microscopic was hard to ingest and difficult to digest for my neighbor, who was all of five feet and two inches tall. Way too big for a puny molecule that would be a maximum of some 5 microns may be. This was unacceptable and blasphemous and assaulted his pride and dignity which was all of five feet and two inches big.

  I did not have the stomach to argue with him on the spot. But I was dejected by the ignorance of mankind and their collective and cumulative megalomania. Just like a small ant can make an elephant scream, a small tiny molecule is all that it takes to topple the pompous man from his self-anointed throne.  Man continues to live in a fool’s paradise while the atoms and the sub-atoms wreak havoc and hellfire on our frail, gullible, and susceptible selves. We, the humans, have always had a penchant for grandiose delusion and this self-proclaimed invincibility of my diminutive neighbor was just one more extension of the same misplaced trait.

  And our ignorance has lead us all to be cooped in a clam of seeming invincibility, while unknown to us,  our own ‘bases’ are being tampered with and eroded by a myriad messiahs of doom, the molecules. This is very similar to the ostrich sticking its head into the sand and believing that nobody can see it just because it cannot see anyone. We, the human fools, tend to get comfortable in a fool’s paradise where our own blinkered vision is a reassurance that there is nothing threatening us from our sides and our rear just because we cannot see it, hear it etc. etc.

 Now comes the big question of my puny neighbor

“What the hell can they do?”

 It was taught in our nascent stages, by our psychopathic teachers that we are made of molecules. I always wondered as to where they were as I could not put my finger on it. Neither could I see it, and nor could I hear it.

 As I grew older and when I became wiser, I realized that not only are we made of molecules, we are also governed and ruled by them. We are all just molecular slaves in this vast and limitless creation.

           A few molecules from hell called testosterone, and I became violent and horny. A few more of those critters, and I was sporting unwelcome hair on my chin, which was eventually going to cost me a mini fortune in my lifetime, in a vain attempt to annihilate and eradicate them. Every attempt I made to slay these hirsute offenders with all kinds of razors and creams were all to be met with gleeful retribution from the dire molecules that sent even stouter bristles to my face with a ghoulish mirth. They put growth where I did not want it and they denuded the foliage from where I dearly desired it.

           I wanted to have a wanton mane of flowing hair, but these diabolical molecules heard my wish even before I could spell it. They sent hell-fire and brimstone molecules to my scalp and very soon, the rapacious intruders were slaughtering and devouring my precious hair follicles just for the fun of it. Yes, they wanted to see me suffer, cringe, squirm, grovel, and then shrivel up and die.

         Then came their attendants from netherworld called the neurotransmitters and neuro-molecules etc., who then invaded my brain to depress me so as to add insult to injury and to rub in more salt into my wounds.

 They ensured my downfall and they ensured my misery. They exulted in diabolical glee as I slid and shied away from every social occasion and went into a shell of self-doubt and low self-esteem. They poured more and more toxins down my throat as I tried to swallow this bitter pill that was called life.

            These molecules would just not relent. Their infinite appetite for destruction was yet to be satiated. Just when I thought I had seen off the worst , a few other insidious molecules gave me the charge, and soon I had become hypertensive. I was condemned to a life of consuming palliative molecules of anti-hypertensives. And one more brand new slavery to one more new class of molecules was now unceremoniously thrust down my gullet. . And a lifelong one, thanks to the tardy progress made in medical sciences with regard to chronic ailments. There were many molecules for controlling my affliction, but there were none that could cure me. Maybe these molecules have an unholy pact, a taciturn understanding among them. These spooky molecules could not be trusted for even their parent’s worth. They had conspired my slavery to them and had plotted my subjugation, all of which was quite apparent. 

But somehow, I could see through the fog in my brain and perceive all that was supposed to be concealed and hushed up. Soon all the other molecules were running riot and joining in the fun, as they outdid each other in castigating and undermining me. Some molecules in my pancreas closed shop with a meaningful sneer cum smile and I was in dire need for more molecules. Some molecules made me diabetic while others made me sick. Some made me obese while others made me obtuse. 

Still others are biding their time in a relentless quest to snuff out the remaining vestiges of human joy and dignity in me. They made me carnal, gluttonous, fat, quirky, verbose, dim-witted, ugly and what not. All I could do, was to sing paeans to their overwhelming power as they ravished and vanquished me. 

The history of mankind has been one long story of the tyranny, the hegemony, and the unilateral and temperamental dictatorship of the molecules. They fueled the fires of the intruders and the marauders whilst also assuaging and pacifying the breath of the saint and the heart of the mendicant at the same time. They raised the arm of the murderer, and also nourished the breast of the mother. They made brothers hate one another and made enemies make accord and surrender. Mankind has been in a fix as to how to deal with these innocuous looking tiny, overwhelming, all-conquering conquerors. These dictators have sculpted and conjured our body, mind, id, and soul, completely as per their wanton fancies and whims, leaving the hapless humans grappling in a feud with the incomprehensible, and the inevitable.

Men tried medication, and when it failed, they tried meditation. They called upon God and then invoked the soul. They introspected, retrospected and then finally dissipated. How many a thinker and philosopher asked themselves as to " Why am I me, and why is he, he or maybe a she?” But the answer eluded them like the proverbial needle in the haystack. 

Confounded and thoroughly confused, they then started to call themselves, hideous, sinful, debauched, infidel, rapacious, and so on, as the real reason for their inexplicable traits and behaviors gave them a complete slip. These demeaning descriptions and names were always a convenient alibi as long as the real answer eluded them.  But it was never the molecule that was to blame. The molecules silently went on with their business, as mankind tore his head and hair asunder in a vain quest to rein them in. 

Perhaps the deceitful, Machiavellian molecule had conspired to confound the conundrum. They cajoled and coerced mankind into fallaciously thinking that everything and everyone except them are to blame. Their deceptive influence inspired the misleading concepts of character, integrity, faithfulness, chivalry, treachery, infidelity, and a host of other epithets and sobriquets, the weight of which, mankind is carrying till date.  Mankind looks at and finds fault with the effect, while the cause gyrates in its callous and capricious dance, unhindered, unfettered and un-ferreted. 

But maybe, just maybe, of late the molecules have become too impudent and cocksure. They were asleep in their stoned lethargy cloaked in a perception of invincibility and invulnerability, when some resilient brave humans crept up from their behind. Some brave and noble soul yelled “The Molecules" and a few nodded in assent. This marks the start of a revolution, a revolution to free and exculpate mankind from the ignominious tyranny of "The Molecules”. 

Why is a Murderer a Murderer and why is a Philanderer a Philanderer? We are getting closer to the answer. As we get the answers, we shall also get to the antidotes. And when we get to the antidotes, mankind shall cease to be a zombie and a slave to “The Molecules" and shall live free, with pride, dignity, and also unity. The Utopian objectives of an ideal world may well be within the reach of mankind once the despotic and totalitarian autocracy of "The Molecules" ends. 

And the desperate mankind waits, with bated breath, for that day of deliverance from the prisons of guilt, disgrace, stigma, and self-doubt, wrought upon by the merciless and unfeeling molecules. 

The other day, I boarded the local train from Hillsboro town to Orenco. A group of school girls got up along with me. I nodded at them as they smiled sweetly at me while they settled next to me. 

Then they started an unending discussion. There was an endless confabulation about boys, boys, and more boys. There was not a single mention of studies, lessons, teachers, games, sports, nothing. It was just boys and more cute boys. 

I tried to look at them quizzically in an as avuncular pose as I could adopt, but it was in vain. I was thinking “Are these girls not too young to be singularly obsessed with boys, who also appeared to be equally infatuated with them, as I could glean from the proceedings and from their conversation?" 

Then suddenly, in a reflecting window, I spied upon the man in the mirror. My bald pate, out-stared and out-blinked me and proceeded to reprimand me. It then, sternly and unequivocally told me, "Aren't you old enough and experienced sufficiently to know a little more about the scourge of the molecules? Were you not equally fallible and susceptible, if not infinitely more? Were you also not similarly afflicted and damaged so many many times? Do you still blame the hapless human species? How can you do this, after all that I have taught you and after all that I have told you? It is their molecules speaking and not them. That is period, end of story, and over and out. " 

There was light. I realized that my sparse, desolate, wasted, and blighted bald pate was right. Yes. It was them, the molecules. 

And humanity, even collectively, does not stand even a scarce remote chance before these molecules.

                                 Just like yours truly never did.    

You can buy the entire book on Amazon by following these links and wallow in a sea of laughter, introspection, and realization. Wish You All A Very Fulfilling and Happy Reading Experience!!!

http://www.amazon.in/Molecular-Slaves-Biju-Vasudevan/dp/1515245101/ref=la_B00O77ACDM_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1492862305&sr=1-1

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