the reason (microfiction)

26.09.2025

I had just spent the past hour messaging three of my friends. They had all thought of me at the same time. It was Friday evening. It was the start of the weekend and some free time. So they had all thought of me. It was nice to be thought of like that. And, in some way, it had alleviated my loneliness. I lived with my parents. I had spoken to my mother while she had cooked me a feast of paneer with pea curry, curried spinach and spiced yoghurt with a generous salad. But still I felt alone. I was always going to feel alone. There was no point not trying to feel alone. Because I was never going to meet anyone special in my life. I was going to have to sleep in a bed alone every night for the rest of my life. I didn’t kid myself.

But then, I also had Alfonso. I rang him up. Without saying hello to me, he jumped into a question. ‘Why do people look for a reason for why their life is not what they want it to be?’

‘Because there is some reason why there life is not what they want.’

Alfonso was eating something. I wondered what it was but did not ask him. ‘What is the reason your life is not what you want it to be?’ he asked me.

‘Because I am an ethnic minority.’

‘You always say that.’

‘It doesn’t mean it is not true,’ I said. ‘Do you think these racist bastards even know how racist they are? How much it governs their society? What kind of fucking scum they are? No, they don’t. Because their racism makes them think they are superior to people like me.’

‘They have close relationships with people from other countries. With immigrants.’

‘Yes. With the westernised ones. With the ones that bend to them and want to lick their boots. I come from the village. I have rejected westernisation. I am too good to lick anyone’s boots.’

‘Then your situation is your choice.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘To choose freedom over slavery is not a choice. It is a necessity.’

‘Yet you call them slaves to the state. Have they chosen that slavery?’

‘Yes, that is the tragedy. They have chosen slavery over freedom. They are slaves in their hearts and minds. Slaves that think they are the masters.’

‘They hate you because of your criticisms.’

‘Let them hate. I also despise them for judging me. For being Indian. I never forgive anyone that rejects me because of that. You are taught to nurture your relationships. Especially enmity.’

‘You will never get this war that you want.’

‘I have it already. In my thoughts and my writing. In my heart. In my books that I publish.’

‘They will never fight you. And they will stop you from fighting. If you don’t change, you will always be alone.’

‘If you let someone pull you to the ground and step all over you, you are not a man. If you let someone throw you out like garbage and rob you of your dignity, you are not a man. If you let someone put a fucking leash on you like you are a fucking dog, you are not a man. If you let someone talk over you, reject you, exclude you and you fawn over them, you are not a man. You are a piece of shit. And I am not a piece of shit. In fact, I am The Tiger. Fuck everybody.’

‘Well,’ Alfonso said. ‘Even though you are so disagreeable and angry, the wonderful thing is that you still have friends. And yet you claim that you are all alone.’

‘Where is my family?’ I said. ‘How can you think you have anyone when you don’t even have your own family?’

‘What is the lack?’ Alfonso asked. ‘Be honest. Is it the children or is it the woman?’

I didn’t answer him. Who knew the answer to that? The ache inside, who knew who or what could soothe it? Although I did know. The only way to soothe the ache was with the war. And therefore, I did not look for anyone in this world. I looked for the war. The war was something that I could work on. The war was something I could have and hold in the nights. Yes, I lay in bed thinking about the war. I woke up in the morning to wage the war. I was a warrior from the old world. Not this shitty world. War was my destiny. We had been slaves. We were slaves. But we would not be slaves tomorrow. The child of The Tiger would be a king. He would walk free. The child of The Tiger would be a Queen. She would walk with dignity. The love of the world would be his. The love of the world would be hers. The war that we fought was for tomorrow. For tomorrow. This pain that we lived in, it had a purpose. It was for tomorrow. This hunger that we had. It was for tomorrow. One day, the spark would be lit. I had to survive for that day. It might not come before the end of my life, but it would come. In the end, it is truth alone that is triumphant. Satyameva Jayaate.