Killing Lizards

In the course of this conversation between a father and a son there will be blatant lies, veritable facts, and some truth, or perhaps no truth at all.

Night, somewhere.

– I taught you how to catch lizards – you learnt how to kill, yourself. I must have also told you that they would never bother you and wouldn’t care if you kill them or not. They won’t be sad if you kill them. They won’t be happy you if you don’t. They won’t be anything else leaving what they actually are. If there’s one thing one can learn from them that’s that. And that’s what’s special in lizards, and even bugs and other lesser ugly looking things. They never stop being themselves. While a tiger would roar just when whipped to roar, a lizard would drop its tail and vanish, or would fall trying vanishing. They never get tired of being themselves. They are what they are. Body and soul. And you don’t have to talk to a lizard to find out if its angry or hungry or scared – and they are only these three things – it is for everyone to see, this state of blissful unity. And it is unmixed – a scared lizard would never be a hungry lizard.
– So I shouldn’t kill them?
– Why shouldn’t you? I was just saying they don’t care whether you kill them or not.
– So I’m not bad when I kill them.
– No you are not. But just being ‘not bad’ should’t be enough for you.
– Then why did you stop me from killing one?
– Because you can kill it later.
– I can?
– Obviously. But first, look at that lizard over there.
– Just look?
– Yes, and don’t think about it.
– But –
– Shhh. Look at it there at the wall. Just take a peaceful, unthinking look. Don’t even think that you don’t have to think.
– But I can’t stop thinking.
– Alright. What exactly are you thinking?
– A number of things. I am thinking how its funny when they drop their tails.
– I told you not to. You shouldn’t think. It is very important.
– But its hard not to.
– You see that tree at the turn where the last lamp-post is. Run to that and come back as fast as you can.
– Its more than a kilometre.
– Go.
– You want me to do that? Its dark.
– You’d get your answers.

– Don’t sit. Stand straight. Breathe, slowly.
Now, look at that lizard. What do you want to do with it?’
– Nah-thinh.
– Why nothing? Don’t you wanna watch its tail drop?
– Noh.
– Why? I’d want some more words from you.
– ‘Cause I wanto sit dow, down. I, I want to sit dow, sit down, andrinksome water.
– And, what about the lizard? Its wriggling tail?
– I doun know.
– What is it that you don’t know?
– I doun kay-a, care. Wah-ter, please.
– Sure.

– You know why you couldn’t think of anything else but water?
– Because I was tired and thirsty.
– Don’t you think there’s something more to that?
– What? Like something where I am aware of every single tissue of my body? You believe that, seriously?
– No. But I believe in something more preposterous.
– What?
– I believe that it isn’t a blessing to have all your senses intact or being aware of every single tissue in your body. What would you accomplish with that information? Its all bullshit. But God! if I could only see and not feel, hear and not see, smell and taste and not see hear feel, and do not feel absence of what is absent, it would be perfect. But right now its like a brilliant group of rogue senses that betray at any given chance. And I don’t want that. I would want to be without distractions.
– Like a lizard?
– Much like them.
– You truly want that?
– Want what?
– To be senseless?
– Yes.
– Should I want that too?
– How would I know? The greatest and possibly the worst thing about any truth is that it is only yours, completely and painfully so. You’d have to search for your own truth. And you’d have to work hard for it.
– I feel I should start with lizards.
– Killing them?
– No. I think not.