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It was a rainy night. I saw Kaul standing there, at my window of imagination. It was beautiful. I could see it with my eyes closed. It seemed like a traveler who wanted to return home after a long journey.

“What do you want?” I asked.

It didn’t say anything but started dancing like crazy. You don’t see someone dancing like that, except in wedding. Maybe old Kaul just needed to take a piss. Dubious as I was, I opened the door of my mind and let it in. It was shivering in cold. I touched it with my eyes and traveled through the length of my dreams. Suddenly, night wasn’t the night, rain wasn’t the rain, and Kaul wasn’t a movie.

I went to the window and looked out again. A lantern was burning at the edge of a cloud. It was the sun. But Kaul said it was an ocean. In eyes of Kaul, everything was ocean and we were just transient waves who didn’t know insignificance of their own existence.

“Neti Neti” Kaul mumbled.

“What’d you say?” I asked.

“Neti Neti.” It said. “Does it ring a bell?”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Are you trying to sell me your philosophy?”

“No, I was passing by your shack and saw you typing.” It said. “What are you writing? Is it about me?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.”

At this point, I must admit that Kaul was no stranger to me. I was hiking in MAMI rainforest when I heard of a strange creature named Kaul. An illusion of my mind insisted that I must meet Kaul. I saw it waving from distance but couldn’t gather the courage to say Hi. Kaul looked like something I had never seen before.

“Hey, are you a freak?” it startled me. I was so frightened, I ran away.

“Embrace your insanity. Live in illusion. Whatever you’re going to see, you’ve already seen.” It said.

A little while after Kaul left, Aadish came by. I don’t know why, but I used to call him ‘Gulzar on Acid’. His poems were slightly overcooked, but delicious nonetheless.

“Hi,” he said. “Have you seen Kaul?”

“Yes. It was right there.” I pointed to my window.

“Where did it go?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “It just vanished.”

“You see, that’s the thing about Kaul. Once it enters the shack of your mind, it never leaves. There is no end to this insanity. It only assumes a different form. Now you’re Kaul.”

“What should I do now?”

“Listen to the birds. Keep circulating the madness till everything is nothing.”

I don’t exactly remember when I met Kaul. Was it yesterday? Was it in past life? Or maybe I never met Kaul. I feel its presence in rain, in distant mountains and chirping birds. It exists only in nature, a film that’s right in front of you, but you cannot see it.

Kaul (A Calling) is the cinematic miracle we’ve been praying for. 

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