Circles & cylinders 

On the shape of things, and how it shifts

“You must get into shape!” Kamala pronounced, as she casually body-shamed my generous proportions. I insisted that round was also a shape, as I quickly wolfed down a triangular samosa, while scrolling to check the goss from all over the globe. Cylinders were being discussed frantically, while panic and people queued up in serpentine lines. Geometric shapes were in fashion again. The globe had become a smaller sphere, with a tiny Strait of Hormuz making world leaders bend to its whims, and opt to follow the straight and narrow path.

“What’s cooking?” Kamala asked sarcastically, as I browsed tempting pics of conical paper dosas. Not one square meal was cooking in our house anyway, ever since cylinders became the subject of shortage rumours. A similar crisis must have inspired Picasso to create cubism – an art form that many find difficult to wrap their heads around. Art is subjective, as Badshah must have realised, with his lyrics and visuals creating more controversy than the Epstein Files. 

Much like Timothée Chalamet, who found himself a square peg in a round hole, after his insensitive remarks on the fading relevance of ballet and the opera. The woke police have been running circles around Chalamet, while he attempts to play ping-pong with the fact that his Oscar aspirations have been hurt by the ricochet of this remark. 

Meanwhile the discussion has come full circle, with our own Mona Lisa of Mahakumbh fame making a bee-line to God’s Own Country, bringing things back to square one, in her own personal Keralam Story. In nearby southern states, the eternal triangle figures in one Vijay’s divorce, and another Vijay’s wedding, both of which have the paparazzi running around in circles.  

Meanwhile, Iran is insisting that countries shape up or ship out. Kamala has issued a similar warning to me, and I’m honestly attempting to use the cylinder shortage to get back into shape. But my friendly neighbour has distracted me from my target, by sending home a dabba of fresh hot jalebis. How am I going to be a shape-shifter, while my diet is spiralling out of control in concentric circles?! World affairs or my protuberant paunch – a vicious circle is the shape of things to come.

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