The thought kept clawing at him. Stubbornly, like a strand of muscle under stress. His brain seemed intent to calculate each and every possibility associated with each and every situation, both personal and professional. Everyone was wired this way. Millions of years of living alongside predators and unknown plant species had made the brain that way, and maybe in his case, his ancestors had probably lived in a slightly more hostile territory for all he knew and cared.
It was twenty five minutes past eight in the evening, and he was waiting for a friend to arrive with a stash of marijuana that had taken weeks to procure, since the quality had been well assured for, and sourced from a prized farmer living a few miles away north to the city. The cafe he had chosen for the rendezvous wasn’t obscure or discreet by any stretch. It was completely populated by the boisterous voices of people of his generation, too happy with getting past the first day of the week, letting out their feelings at the end of a seemingly long day.
He locked eyes with her for a few seconds for quite a few times with a few smiles. He made a nod as if to say hold on, and to his horror, she promptly stood up to leave, glancing at his direction as if to say come on. He couldn’t. He had to wait for the friend who would be getting his marijuana. The appointment couldn’t be late, because both of them worked on tight schedules. He hoped she would understand and wait. She went to the door, took a few steps towards the left and disappeared from his view.
He shrugged, in a way as if to say the right things didn’t necessarily happen at the right times. He had another fifteen minutes to kill, and wondered if he should just walk out and tell her to talk for fifteen minutes to figure out their next move. He would be disappointed. She was nowhere to be found, probably thinking he had chickened out on her. He returned back, a little sad, his head buzzing with the noise of the place, words like data, finance, analyze, Microsoft, Google, Netflix and cloud floating across the place like drops of rain whisking past the surface of a car’s windshield, only to be wiped off by further questions punctuated by the same answers, as if no one wanted to delve deeper, only to stay within touching distance lest, they were pointed out their flaws or shortcomings.
He wanted to join in and contribute to some of the conversations.
He wasn’t exactly a social person, but he was confident, confident in his abilities to probe deeper, ask the right questions and get down to the fundamentals of the topic at hand, because too many people dwelled on the surface without getting down to the depths, the very essence, preferring to focus on small talk rather than knowledge, facts that would improve one’s or a group’s lives from a economic point of view. The key was the right knowledge, backed by Science rather than frivolous, subjective, simple casue and effect statements which made no sense whatsoever in terms of of actionable insight.
He wanted some marijuana so that he could close his eyes and imagine the life that would soon transpire with him in five years. He dreamt about the visuals every single day without fail, just when his consciousness had drifted to a slightly adjoin state, a state one could attain just when the eyelids had drooped, yet in conscious sense of not being fully asleep. He was always able to amplify these visuals through micro-dosing marijuana, just the right amount of drags, and the drift state would begin, its entire glory unmasked, revealing its splendour of visual orgy, into which he would imagine himself standing in front of his hilltop mansion, overlooking the vast canopy of hills, pine trees and small villages. Each of the visuals would last for a few seconds, before his mind tried its best to automate the images for him, the onus being on him to control it.
He wished his friend would hurry.
Marijuana Maharaj 