Undercover

I sold my first painting at 9. A large auction with lavender seat covers. And softest cushions to ever sit on. I was awarded the Nobel at 10 for Pokemon. I performed my first international concert at 13. I was self-assured that Linkin Park could do better than scream. 14, I was playing with crocs on Animal Planet. By 15, I had won Roadies, became the galli cricket champion. And had pets, cute little yellow things called Minions. 16, I was cast for Rockstar part 2. Everything but singing struck a chord in me. By 18, I was Kurta-Jhola boy studying in Delhi, With a start-up idea to be funded by Google. At 21, I was Ryan Gosling in La La Land. And a few moments ago, I was….an idea.

There are a million things I could be. There are a million things I think I could be. There are million things I already am: beneath the surface, painting and weaving day dreams. Like the salad monsters at dining table, Or marriage halls with snow falls. Or uncles head on Oswalds body, the octopus. Or best, me at the 'waah taaj' commercial. No VFX, No set. And you have a Karan Johar movie all to your self. Oh yes, in case you’re wondering: the Oscar too. 

Who says the mind canvas is an empty one? Waiting to be coloured, but all we do is keep changing the parchment. Its blank one moment, and a Van Gogh the other. Our mind canvases are powerful dreaming machines: Sophisticated, style conscious and Melodramatic.It can rhyme rhyme rhyme, every time time time. All for no dime, but time. It can shoot music videos in cinemascope, Record albums. And cheat on exams without getting caught. I could think that I think myself to be thinking about things. this technology is amazing. I could redo action sequences in films, Coach Federer for free. And kiss her every time it got awkward. I construct the best romantic scenes, Laugh to my own jokes, And do it all over again.

I am the undercover hero since I was born.

In case you thought, day dreams are always happy. Hold it. I've imagined my own death, people attending the funeral, written my own obituary. All in third dimension. I've taped my fights that could go horribly wrong, accidents that were just a miss, and chances that were lost. If only there was one shade of grey I would paint it in colour. My mind is a kaleidoscope and a mirror: reflections of me, of the pasts of me, of others, of you, of things. The mirror reflects what is. The kaleidoscope paints me every possibility in bubbles of thought. Dream a little dream, for nights are to sleep. The day asks for the undercover in me, while the night just has my silence.