We lost a legend just a few short weeks ago. I, like many, shared my despair to see a master of machismo, a sultan of shade, a conqueror of tunes say farewell to a world that never truly deserved the beauty that he was. This is my brief, hilarious–in my humble opinion–dedication that sums up precisely how I felt about a man that was truly never a man at all…
Societal standards often dictated appropriate, masculine behavior. Demanding that one be stoic and pensive. Dismissive and aloof. Naresh knew not of these limitations. Ridiculous, inane ramblings about his gender. Which was why the movement of his hips, the rhythmic gyration that thrust them to and fro never once faltered. He shimmied. He spun. He allowed his shoulders to do their worst. And this was all while he knew someone else was watching. Because again, he couldn’t be bothered with the ridiculous, inane ramblings.
There was a sigh. Subtle in quality, however loud enough to be heard.
“I see you haven’t out grown listening to Prince while creating unholy machinations.”
That gave him pause. Naresh’s head tilted slightly to the left as he lifted his eyes from his work and barked, “Stereo off.”
Once the chords of “Uptown” faded from the air, he removed his eye wear, tossed it down and faced his sibling.
“You don’t outgrow Master Prince, you philistine,” he quietly informed him. “You spend every wretched day of your purposeless existence on this planet breathing in the very essence of his artistry. You suck it down your worthless lungs and exhale the unfathomable greatness that is your lord and musical savior. You hum with your soul as to not impose on the sound of his voice and move with a grace you were not aware you possessed as to not insult his talents with wild, uncoordinated lunging. And then, then, you pray—you beg—whatever thing above or below that you worship for just a nth of his magnetism. His poise and wonder. You weep at the feet of your gods and ask that they bless you in the manner that they blessed him. But what you don’t do, what you will never do, is outgrow the magnitude that is Prince Rogers Nelson.” Naresh inhaled and warned. “When you cross the threshold of this workshop, you do not do so without putting respect on that name.”
His sibling gazed at him for several long beats before woodenly stating, “You are a strange, disturbed little man and the only thing I weep for is the poor, naïve female you somehow cajole into bringing forth more in your likeness through the tribulations of child bearing.”
Naresh sauntered lazily to his latest project. “I’m sure someone said something similar to our dear Papa and yet, here you stand.”
Beastly Urges soon to come…