Caveman instincts....

We all rushed towards the mess with posters. The rival camp was already there with their posters and had cordoned off the area closest to the door. The door was closed and would open only an hour later. And there we stood - a grimy mass of paint-covered limbs and sloganeering faces filling every inch of the staircase. All for occupying as much of space on the mess walls as we can with our posters. Fun and games. And yet I have seen best friends in opposite camps screaming into each others faces with a language that would make their parents think about their bad karma in all their past lives. Even a budding romance is put on hold during the 'Poster War' week and the girlfriend is all too glad to give the silent treatment to the dude. All for just one objective - possession. Possession of space. Possession of the cobweb-covered mess walls which reek of stale dal and rice and don't even elicit a second look (or whiff :) on usual days

And this got me thinking (which given the commotion and the push-pull that went on in that one hour is indeed an achievement) that 'what if humans were devoid of this urge to possess? What if the caveman had never used clubs to possess any and every woman that caught his fancy?' It would save me all those hours of going early to the popular classes to possess a seating place on the bench, floor or the windowsill. I thought of all the fights that I have had with my sister just because she wore my T-shirt or used my mug to drink her daily Horlicks dose. Images of my favourite shoes, book and perfume were flashing in my mind. I had a vague recollection of a protest march that my sister and me had staged (complete with slogans and posters) to coerce my parents into buying yet another Barbie for us. I got thinking about how the entire family had stood at the door as we sold off our ten-year old vehicle and kept waving till the number-plate disappeared around the road-bend. And then there was this time when my friend and I had a crush on the same guy and fought for hours over him (despite the fact that he didn't even know that we exist).

On a lighter note, I thought the filthy rich would probably throw away their money without the urge to possess it and I would get a part of the booty. But would I even want it ? Or would the filthy rich be filthy rich without the urge to possess? And then I had this scary apparition of a woman handing over her child to vagabond-like character who is standing at her doorstep and asking for her child. And that jostled me back into reality. Back into the pushing and sweat-dripping blob of bodies waiting to clamber over tables and beams - all for that last inch on the grimy mess wall. And I was thankful to the fighting. Thankful to the urge to possess. Thankful to the caveman who plastered another caveman's brain to the ground to possess the hairy cavewoman with the cute dimples. :))amen