"Honey I've shrunk the Shrink"==Nature Lover

Nature-Lover: post 263 "The nature of Mothering" by shrunk shrivelled shrink.

Your "Honey, I have shrunk the shrink" is superbly hilarious.

Here is the self-analysis of the Shrrivelled shrink...the last entry into his diary.
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Last Entry:
In the diary of the Psycho from chukk:420, mauza Harrapa
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My own private Fridaho

epilogue


.....and now I can sense that they are mumbling & whispering about removing the life-support system from me. It is not that I am in coma all the time, it is just that they cannot tell that, and I do not tell them. I observe, I listen, but I cannot respond...but only for sporadic minutes when no one is around. The prescriptions & proscriptions of the west & east did me in!

It`ll be anyday, anytime,

sooner than later.

.........ahh!and memories! , in a rewind loop, now in focus, now in a blurr & blob from the deep deep recesses of my mind, never ever abandon me, never let go. It sure helps to be a shrink to interpret and bring into focus these repressed memories....

...the joyful days and nights when I was called Fridaho by everyone. Snot, rat-tail-like, peeking in and out of my dust laden & dirt ridden nostrils and occasionally wiped-ff by my left sleeve while looking askance at every passing elder who would shove-kick-slap-hit me--just for the heck of it . At least they recognised me that I existed. I belonged! Here in US nobody gives a damn no matter how hard you try to prove that now you are one of them.So Frida-ho it was, sometimes Freeda-ho, sometimes Freeday-ho but none seemed different. The landowners around Harrapa were too preoccupied & disinterested to worry about my heritage or what I truly aspired to be. I was simply a body, a serf, a kummee`s son, destined to be a kummee himself when old enough to plow their fields.

But I had ambitions. Secret designs of my own. Intrepid & Intrigue was important to overcome the caste, and the color barrier. I wanted to be like the Jat jagirdars son.., with the plastic clip-on tie & back-pack,..whose forefathers helped the british to rule over us. ``Salvation is in slavery``! this became my banner & beacon....to enable me to cross over
to the other side & someday have my own private slaves.

`` I must redesign my heritage`` I heard myself say to myself aloud oneday. It must be sculpted by me to suit the occasion or event. I decided to interrupt others and correcte them that my name was Fareed. Everyone should take notice, I told them. I am Fareed--not Freeda-ho. They all did, and shoved-kicked-slapped and ran me out of the chukk # 440 near to the mound-ruins where heritage is preserved. Preserved so well that it generates ample reveues for its progeny even after laying dormant for about 5000 years. The goraas discovered the mounds of the dead and educated the slaves; drilled into them how civilised they once were and how the slaves were once 5000-year civilised & now in the darkages due to their stupid reli.. (well-never mind)

...good that they hounded me out of the Chukk 420 near mauza Harrapa. In the city I became the real me, Fareed! and now diligently pursued the practised the Jaw-resetting language to such perfection that that I was soon inducted into that inner-sanctum of those who prided themselves to announce themselves as The-Tongued-Ones: (ahle-zubaan)

Years passed and then I discovered that even this heritage is now under suspicion and is no longer respectable. The-Tongued-ones are being harrassed by those who are now refusing the get their jaws reset. So I decided to look for opportunities to create another new heritage for my nation`s posterior and my own posterity

I decided to emigrate to the fantasy-land of sex,drugs & faith-freedom
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and opportunity!

Here I learned that my name a big problem for me & the way I pronounce it is even a bigger problem for the immigration folk. They re-named me Freud, ( apt! I chucked then) entered that in the register, and officially I became Archie Freud . Archie is for Arshad , a name I had always liked and was given that as my `christain` name when the immigration guy, fat beet-red face one, insisted that Arshad was too foreign & a jawlocker for him.

Sixty long years seem now like the blink of an eye! Such a Psychiatric I was that, in serving science & humanism, I became a psycho myself and was committed to the proper places many a times during my shining career & gloomy disposition. Some alluded this to the genius in me and such a price is small for those like me to pay to serve humanity and reassert my Insaanyat in ways other than the mundane kind. I sometimes feel that it is my obssessive cynicism to keep a score on my insaanyat index that blew my brainfuse.

Despite all the laurels and dollars , I was still uneasy with this post-modernistic, humanistic heritage of mine. Hell, the kids, no longer kids by the way, were determined to manufacture their own heritage, as muslim, and were going out of the way to refuse to inherit anything at all from the mounds of Moenjo Dero or the hollows of Harrapaa . This really did me in. I mean with all the heritage that I accumulated and now here my own flesh and blood wanted to disinherit all that!


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...So When I returned to the area I had left as Chukk 420 I tried to prove & convince the people running the heritage industry, primarily the Jaw-lockers--the Tongued-ones (ahli-Zubaan), but no one was interested anymore.They ahd outslaved me by a single U-turn. They were all trying to become a mirror image of the people from the land of bilk & money.

I learnt that behind my back they sneered at my attempt to speak in the Jawlock-way or the neo-Tongue-Ones way.

They were calling me Dr. Fraud.