"Mittyesque"

There was one memorable occasion when I'd managed to convince Marcus Brutus not to betray Julius Caesar, even if he wasn't quite convinced of Caesar not having ambitious intentions.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walter Mitty's way of coping with the world - namely escaping from it - is one of those things I admire without any reservations. Those of us who don't take pleasure in pondering over the "what-ifs" and the possibility of improbabilities are, sadly, restricting the domains of their life to only the physical one - only the things that they can see and feel are real for them. What about the things that can't be felt by you, let alone seen? Do they cease to exist?

Well, they might not exist in your world but that doesn't mean that they don't exist in someone else's. Think about it this way - kangaroos don't exist in any of the continents I've been on (pur-leeeez, don't even think about saying that zoos are pretty well-stocked these days) but that doesn't mean I will deny to admit the fact that kangaroos jumping yonder on the land down under is in fact , just that - a fact .

Similarly, if certain situations don't exist in your world, all you have to do is dream them up. Play with them, star in them, be a victim in them but the most important thing is - live in them in a way you know you have a slim chance of living in your restricted little physical world.

For my part, conversations with people in likely and sometimes unlikely circumstances in my unrestricted world stimulate me. I have had exceedingly interesting interactions with a wide variety of characters - who can lay claim to the same? Apart from helping me relax, such interactions help me through some of the mindless and unavoidable routines of life.

There was one memorable occasion when I'd managed to convince Marcus Brutus not to betray Julius Caesar, even if he wasn't quite convinced of Caesar not having ambitious intentions.

Wow. I knew this, though convoluted, was the road to change history - Mark Antony would then stay on with Caesar as his trusted confidant and right-hand man. He'd never meet Cleopatra and the world would never have one sad story of love and passion. I wanted the story to be erased from the fabric of this earth. Too sad for my tastes.

However, as soon as Brutus had agreed to spare Caesar, Zaphod Beeblebrox had to turn up - like the bad penny he was - in his Heart of Gold spaceship, muttering about the Infinite Probability Drive without really knowing why. Just as he was debating over which button to press while we looked on with bated breath, the Nutri-Matic produced a "plastic cup with a liquid that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea". This plastic cup was promptly picked up by Hercule Poirot, whose exclamation of disgust after taking one sip had taken Zaphod by surprise - so much so that he inadvertently pressed the yellow button instead of the pink one. As the world whizzed around all of us, we could hear Poirot's words, " Ah mon ami , your English tea...".

When the spinning ceased, I saw that I was alone in a dark place. However, just then the bat signal imprinted on the sky and in its light, I saw Bruce Wayne in his black attire hurrying along the streets of Gotham City. A menacing black cloud half-covered the bat signal. Frightened, I started hurrying across the dark alley myself, orienting myself by keeping a hand on the rotten wooden fence that ran along the side of the alley.

An angry voice stopped me - "You haven't finished whitewashing the fence yet!" I gasped in surprise as I saw Aunt Polly coming at me with a brush and a huge pail of white paint. The paint sloshed dangerously in the pail and I picked up the brush to apply a coat of it on the rotten wooden fence.

"She'll be back", the Terminator called out as he flexed his hand. "Trust me".

"I don't believe this!" I gasp.

"Why not? Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast!" Lewis Carroll called out. Beside him, Noddy lived up to his name and kept on nodding compulsively.

I thought wildly that only magic could get me out of here when Houdini swept upon me and took me away. En route, in response to the question in my mind regarding the number of ways out of my current state, I knew I heard Alan Turing say that this particular non-deterministic automata was especially nasty.

I landed near a hole in the ground. At the sound of nibbling and the words "What's up, Doc?", I looked up to see Bugs Bunny grinning and at the same time, busy with his ubiquitous carrot.

"I'd rather ask what's down there in that hole," I said.

"Who else but Mark Antony?" said Sherlock Holmes. "Elementary, my dear... oh, you're not Watson."

I knew I'd changed history then - merely by traveling across various seemingly unrelated dimensions. If Mark Antony was down there, he wouldn't be able to meet Cleopatra. The world was safe from one sad story of passion and love. I felt a glow of achievement.

As I happily got up from my seat in the bus to get off at my stop, little did I know that the rabbit hole was actually a worm hole to Tarsus, where Antony would meet Cleopatra and give the world the story I so dread, in addition to a huge horde of children.