Vampires Never Get Old, page 9
Let’s take a moment to clarify.
You’re not a jinn—they’re shape-shifters made from smokeless fire.
You’re not a rakshasa—a lot of them are shape-shifters, too, born from the breath of Brahma, warriors.
You’re not a ghul—okay, they’re considered undead, too, but they’re more flesh-eating than bloodsucking. Additionally, they have this nifty skill of being able to take the form of the person they’ve most recently eaten. And they are also shape-shifters! Apparently this whole region is big on the shape-shifting. Alas, you can’t do that. Would that we could.
You’re not a demon. Remember, we disavow that slur and that theory. Your soul hasn’t been devoured by an evil entity—like, you weren’t suddenly changed into a billionaire American CEO who thinks he can run a country or a life force–sucking capitalist who flies his private jet to Davos to bemoan global warming and doesn’t get the irony. You’re a vampire.
You are what you always were. If you were a studious nerd in your human life, guess what? You still are! And good on you for working so hard to pass your higher secondary examination. If it feels all for naught, don’t fret! We are working with the minister of education to allow you to sit for the exam, even if there’s no college you can go to. Yet. If you were a morning person who loved nothing more than an early wake-up call and sunrise jog, we’re so sorry. It’s going to suck for a while, and not in a good way.
Vampires are creatures of the night—sunlight is not our friend. Many of us sleep or read during the day or try to organize the hell out of the kitchen spice cabinet before our mamas tell us that the seven-year-old garam masala in some cloudy plastic packet is still good, thank you very much. Or fan our daddis or nannis in the blistering heat with that vintage embroidered hand pankha they’ve had since before cars were invented. And we can’t stress enough how critical your avoidance skills are going to be right now since you’ll be in the house all day and will no doubt be dying to evade the various “special” chores your parents have set aside for you. “Beta, since you’re stuck inside anyway…” is a refrain with which you will become painfully familiar.
We kid, but honestly, a word to the wise: If you were a no-good, useless, shameless dacoit with no respect for your elders in your old life, show yourself out. You’re probably going to be worse now, and this community doesn’t need any more drama or banditry.
You’re an immortal. And that can be wondrous and terrifying at the same time. Your world has turned upside down. Day is night. Many you once loved will shun you. Will call you untouchable. But there is a world for you to discover—one where time is no longer your enemy. Except when it comes to all the mortals you love, who will die of old age.
Correction: Time is no longer the enemy of your personal vanity. It’s still a thief. But at least it won’t steal your beauty. And, darling, you are gorgeous.
WHAT SHOULD YOU EAT?
Your colonizer.
BUT YOU’RE STARVING NOW
Of course you are. See that thermos next to you? The silver one with the word Gumnaam superimposed over a green outline of South Asia? Drink it. Now. It’s blood. You are probably both disgusted and intensely attracted to this idea. Vampire life is nothing if not full of contradictions. So, basically, no different than human life. Trust us, drink it. And we didn’t kill for this; it was donated. Voluntarily, by allies.
Just like this handy pamphlet, the thermos came to you through VampersandTM and our incredible blood wallah network modeled on that of the tiffin wallahs.
[See: Relative Nutritional Values by Blood Type]
Hey, it’s a six-sigma system. Tif ain’t broke, don’t fix it. (Don’t roll your eyes. The joy of puns is forever.)
BUT, REALLY, LET’S TALK ABOUT FOOD
Many of you are vegetarian. Many of you keep halal. Some of you live life according to the principles of ahimsa: Cause no injury, do no harm. Every living thing has the spark of the divine. Regardless of your religion or to personal beliefs, it’s simply a fact that, being in a desi family, you likely approached meals with the virtues of moderation—eat what is simple and natural. Unless it’s a wedding, then, obviously, moderation does NOT apply.
We really hate being the bearers of bad news, especially when we’re not there to soften the blow with some freshly blended mango lassis or to soothe you with a rendition of our favorite lullaby, “Chanda Hai Tu,” but it’s the daytime, so we regret we can’t be with you. But vampires thrive by killing people. By biting them in the neck and sucking their blood. You’ve noticed the sharp teeth, right?
You are going to want to do this. And you’re also probably fighting it. You’re at war with yourself. We understand. It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to deny the essence of who you are. You can subsist on animal blood, but every part of you will be drawn to human blood, and one day you’ll be feeling extra ravenous and won’t be able to fight it anymore. And you’re going to feel guilty. Really guilty. We know. We’ve been there.
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A brief pause for this PSA
Know this unbreakable rule: No babies. No underage individuals. No poverty-stricken.
No one kicked to the curb and marginalized.
Don’t do what was done to you.
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Remember the desi way of nutrition? Eat what is readily available, doing the least damage to the environment. Is your memory of last night becoming clearer now? What happened? Who did this to you, without your consent? Remember the British tourist? The one who looked extra pasty and probably was dressed in some kind of kurta with jeans and rubber chappals thinking they were blending in? As if.
Now do you understand? Your primary food directive: Eat colonizers first.
Here is a simple, undeniable fact: White British tourists are readily available. To be clear, we mean British Britishers: the Angrez. (It’s not like they think of anyone else as British, anyway. ) Have you ever been to Baga Beach during winter holidays? They’re practically tripping over each other at Mackie’s Saturday Night Bazaar trying to haggle a poor trinket seller to within an inch of his life. Or the Taj Mahal, during, oh, literally any season, jostling each other to get the perfect “Touch the Taj” snap and somehow forgetting that it’s actually a tomb—the final resting place of a queen and her beloved. Imagine how they would react if thousands of desis showed up at Churchill’s grave, hungover and complaining about Delhi belly. Obviously that’s a hypothetical; we know none of you would go there unless it was to spit on the grave of the man who starved a few million Bengalis.
But we digress.
The Des is teeming with Angrez vacationers, and we suggest that, after a few moments of careful observation, you choose the one who is most obnoxious. The hooligan. The one who is drunker and ruder than everyone else. The one who is heard complaining in a loud voice about how unsanitary conditions are or how uncivilized it is for people to eat with their hands or how the British did India a favor (!) by colonizing her. You know which ones we mean. We trust your judgment.
You might be wondering how you’ll go after your victims. That’s actually the easy part. Turn on the charm. Promise them a deal. Show them a way to the best bhang lassi shop. Tell them you know the best beedi roller in the neighborhood. Lure them away and let your instinct take over. Have you run your tongue across your teeth yet? Notice your canines feel extra pointy? Voilà! Let your vampire flag fly!
BUT.
The absolute last thing we need is for tourist vamps to overrun India. And, yes, if you bite a human and drink some of their blood, your vampirism spreads (enzymes transferred from direct saliva-to-blood contact) and you’ve sired them. And, clearly, it is not sustainable if we keep siring more and more vampires who in turn diminish the human population, eventually leading to only vampires, who all starve to death. We wouldn’t want that. Especially the Angrez, because then we’ve just recolonized South Asia with the British undead.
No. A simple rule to follow is this: If you go after one, you must fully exsanguinate them. All five liters. It will not be easy, nor should it be. You’ve lived your life peacefully, likely nonviolently, until this moment. Even the thought of taking a life may be abhorrent to you. After all, isn’t that what landed you in this situation? Your life violated; your choice taken away. You may not want to perpetuate the cycle. But you may not have a choice.
We cannot reiterate enough: Not completing the task, simply taking, say, one liter to sate yourself, will only ensure a new baby vamp. So you need to kill them. Dead. Think five liters is too much? We suggest working in pairs in case you’re worried you won’t be able to imbibe the full five. Plus, if you run into any neocolonial British vamps on holiday, you might not want to confront them by yourselves. They often roam around in marauding packs, like their football team just lost and they’re out for vengeance. So pairing up is practical. Safety in numbers and all that. The VampersandTM app has a convenient Find Your Friends feature, which we’ve already turned on for you, so come nightfall, go forth and locate your nearest new BFF. (Want to try it out? Go ahead, just don’t actually, you know, go out if it’s still daylight.)
One thing we want to prepare you for: Some Angrez tourists are bland AF. These are the ones raised on a national cuisine that includes greatest hits such as beans on toast and where salt is their primary seasoning. (Someone really needs to tell them it’s a mineral and not a spice.) Alongside your thermos, you’ll notice a small spice packet. Before you drink, we suggest shaking some of this onto your tongue; it will make the blood go down a lot easier. Feel free to change up the spices! Live your best life!
Still hearing the voice in your head saying killing is wrong? But also feeling unable to deny your bloodlust? Don’t worry, we’re working on a solution—a less human answer to your cravings. A number of your fellow vampires who are alumni of the illustrious Indian Institutes of Technology are working in partnership with the National University of Sciences and Technology in Pakistan to create synthetic blood. Early prototypes proved too acidic or bitter. So our scientists are working night and day (literally!) to perfect their formula. The name of this modern wonder—wait for it: Rooh Afza. It’s thick. It’s syrupy. It looks like blood anyway. Just don’t mix up the original with our knockoff. And it will be a lot less suspicious in the Vampmarts that will be popping up soon. No need to despair. You will have options soon. But until then, exsanguination is your lifesaver. You’re taking one for the team and saving your fellow desis from the truly awful fate of listening to an Angrez tourist try to pronounce namaste or as-salaam alaikum while totally screwing up the accompanying hand gestures.
MATCHMAKING
If you think being turned into a vampire is going to provide you a convenient excuse to avoid the eternally dreaded question—Beta, when are you going to get married?—you are about to be disappointed. Maybe you’re not going to have a profile on shaadi.com, but the immortal auntie network is alive and kicking, because being undead never stopped an auntie dead set on getting everyone married.
That’s right. You might be a teen vamp, wrongly sired, but there are plenty of middle-aged vamps who’ve been around for years—imagine having decades to hone the cheek pinch and the art of desi shade delivered like a syrupy sweet ladoo. Imagine being able to deliver the look of middle-aged auntie scorn forever. New vamps are feted and fawned over because you represent new blood. New projects. And what greater project is there than matchmaking.
Now, it’s true. You’re not marriage age. Yet. But a few years from now, in what would be your college years, you’ll start getting the questions. Biodata forms with photos of eligible strangers will mysteriously appear on your bedside table or desktop. The upside? You’ll never have to worry about someone photoshopping their pic to look younger. Because we never age. You’re a matchmaker’s dream! It won’t even matter that you’re not a doctor. Even when you’re old, you’ll still be young and beautiful. And trust us, if you don’t find a suitable partner soon, it doesn’t deter the auntie network because you’re eligible … forever! If that thought sends you screaming to the hills, don’t worry. There is an ashram in the foothills of the Himalayas, for all denominations, for young vampires who just need to get away. There are even special night runs of the toy train to get you there. We got you.
If you do happen to find your perfect match, then the desi wedding of your dreams can be yours. Unless your dream is Priyanka and Nick’s wedding, in which case, sorry, there’s no replicating that level of epicness. But there is a whole world of wedding designers and jewelers and florists who are ready to cater to you. Near Chandni Chowk in Delhi and Juhu Tara Road in Bombay are flourishing night markets, hidden from mortal eye by old enchantments held in place by vamp-friendly Mayong tantriks. (Warning: You’re a baby vamp, so keep away from the magics. For now. They are powerful and not to be trifled with. You’re already eternal; isn’t that magic enough?)
Imagine the most magnificent desi wedding you’ve ever been to—some palace in Rajasthan maybe? A houseboat in Kerala? A colorful outdoor tent in Shimla? Thousands of vibrant flower petals laid out in ombré swirls lining the marriage path. Mehendi so intricate it looks like lace. Zaiwar dripping with gems. All of that can still be yours. If you want it. And only if. Yes, the aunties will cajole you, but that’s their thing. You still have a choice and it’s yours alone.
SO NOW WHAT?
You’ve got the basics. Food. Community. Marriage. Stay out of the sun. Colonialism is the true bloodsucker, etc. Now what do you do? Like, literally now.
Find your people. Tell your truth. Live your life.
We don’t mean to be flip about it. Well, we do, a little. Trying to soften the blow with sarcasm and bad puns. The thing is, it’s hard, living your life. It was hard before this. It’s hard now. You didn’t ask for this. It was thrust upon you. Maybe, given the choice, this is what you would have chosen. Immortality is a hell of a drug. But the fact is you weren’t given the choice. And now all you have left is to keep living. Move on. Or find your sire and exact revenge by leaving them to burn in the sun. Stake through the heart and decapitation work, too. So, really, make the best of it, however you choose. We support your choices.
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Sidenote
If you don’t want to go the traditional route of exchanging biodata through the aunties, Vampersand™ has contracted with TrulyMadly to create a password protected vampire-only community on their site. Your life may feel like it’s over, but you can still swipe left or right to your no-longer-beating heart’s content.
* * *
And you do still have choices. Your future is not yet written. You have the power to do that. In fact, maybe more so than ever.
Real talk? You still have feelings from before. They don’t disappear. Remember what we said? You’re not a demon. You’re still you. Only more blood-lusting and immortal. But at the core, you are what you always were. And this moment, right now, could be terrifying. And heartbreaking. And enraging. Even if the potential of tomorrow is endless. Even if tomorrow you feel free and can live a life unfettered. Today, something was taken from you that you were not yet ready to give. Family and friends. Loves, old or new. Dreams. All of that will change. Much of it will die. Time marches forward even when you’ve stopped. Where once you might have felt surrounded, at times suffocated, by your noisy, irritating, nosy, beautiful, loving family, now you are alone. No longer human. Reviled and misunderstood by many. But you are not unloved. You are here. And so are we. We see you. We believe in you. You are enough.
When you leave this place, step out into the late-evening quiet for the first time, reborn. Take in the glittering, crumbling streets around you. Look into the ink-black night. It’s dark. And full of diamonds.
And you, dear one, are made of stardust.
VAMPIRISM Or But Is It Possible That Vampires Are Real?
Zoraida Córdova & Natalie C. Parker
During the good ol’ dark ages and beyond, it was surprisingly easy to mistake a disease for a supernatural affliction. Vampire stories and disease have a close relationship. A bunch of people got sick and died? There is a vampire among us! The body of young Vania didn’t decompose during a particularly cold winter? She must be a vampire! Fetch the stake before she spreads her vampirism! A rare disease we now know as porphyria was once known as the “vampire syndrome” because anyone who had it might develop a sensitivity to light and grow pale. They might even crave blood. In the same vein (lol), victims of tuberculosis and the bubonic plague might have been so close to death that they were buried (or thrown into mass graves). Later, not actually being dead, when they slowly rose from their graves, witnesses might claim to have seen a vampire! Samira has taken this idea of vampirism as a disease one step further and paired it with colonialism. If a disease is the presence of something that attacks the body, then colonizers certainly count! (We’re looking at you, British Empire!) (Okay, okay, okay, we’re looking at U.S. forefathers, too.) In that way, vampires are definitely, 100 percent real.
In what other way might you interpret the metaphor of the vampire?
IN KIND
Kayla Whaley
THE SHADY OAK GAZETTE
Local Father Played Role in Handicapped Daughter’s Tragic Death
During Tuesday’s record-breaking snowstorm, Grant Williams, 53, reported his teenage daughter’s death to police and admitted his role in her passing. The severely disabled girl, Grace Williams, 17, had been wheelchair-bound since birth and was unable to eat, breathe or urinate without medical assistance.
Mr. Williams, a single father and science teacher at Robertson County High, confessed to police that he had administered lethal quantities of morphine early Tuesday evening. He told police his daughter’s suffering “had become unbearable” and that she “deserved to finally have some peace.”
