The Strange Case of Binging-in-Butter

Last few days there has been quite a few occassions when the idea of utopia (vs) reality was brought into the perspective for discussion. The truth is never out there; it lies somewhere beneath... sometimes just below your self-constructed, masked, fake image created. In the pursuit of happiness, happiness vanishes once when realized. If one stops to reflect upon happiness, happiness seizes to exist.

So is true satisfaction the actual and happiness just a fantasy we convincingly fool ourselves with a desperate hope to make it seem true? Can everything experienced in life be drawn into charts and figures for others to believe in? Why the effort?!...

Watching the sub-urban drudgery and chronic dissatisfaction of the mortals I am with every single day of my life, sometimes I am forced to wonder if the pit we often find ourselves in devouring us sans giving us a chance to climb. Future is so scary (truthful here) and so I sink into the present to feel complacent and in the attempt to make myself believe so, with that effort, find it meaningless and the pit's devouring capacity further enhanced thus. Can't find refuge in the past as well as the present is just the consequence of the past which I detest. So here I am with the past, present and future staring like a ghost in the dark I can't take my eyes off.

Today I stand not needing anyone to belittle me as I do myself that favour. Horrible it feels yet that is the reality I do not want to run away from. Atleast that bit of residual guts makes me feel good. Feels like nothing and nothing it feels... could this merriment of ridiculing the self to a point of no return with nothingness be what nirvana is all about? If everything means nothing and everything is the same at the end of the day, then why isn't utopia the reality and vice versa?...

By the by, the title means nothing... right? Now thats the point! Why did we want it to mean something and why did we even relate it with anything in the first place? hahaha!... Ces't la vie...

Bottom line: "One creates from nothing. If you try to create from something you're just changing something. So in order to create something you first have to be able to create nothing. " Werner Erhard

All for what?!

"For the sheer fun of it" the words sounded too familiar especially when in the hunt to hear it led me somewhere in the middle of nowhere making it more surreal. Running after money, running after promotions, running after a job just slipping away, running after a mortgage yet to be paid and running on and on one after the other, at some point of time, we would be surprized if we ever stop running. We would probably be hopeless if we did not have a reason to keep running. What if we do stop some day, look around and do something that we are totally passionate about... say for 'nothing'?!...

The world would call us stupid enh?! probably refer to it as madness?! or perhaps a professional suicide?! and as we slow down to hear these being said, we panic and strain to run faster to make up for the speed lost while stopping to listen rather than give it a thought.

Everyone is a human afterall at the the end of the day... right?! Won't it hurt running too long, so fast and enduring the race without knowing what it is that that we run for and how far the run or where the destiny lies?! Poor mortals we! Dare not stop! Run on!

The one who stops to listen to his heart, hear the rhythym of his soul, let his mind rest, allow the wind to take its course and route the sail... would he dare to venture into the pathless path of the unknown mystery giving space for time and tide to take its own course?! Fear! the fear of an unknown phantom sometimes is larger than life. The fear to be alone, the fear of loneliness, the fear to take the first step towards independance when dependance seems more secure... those fears that kill us a million times before death takes us once.

What is this with us humans?! We want everything to be immortal and endure a never ending fight with time. We apply the best beauty lotions that promises us wrinkle-free skin, those hybrid creams that promise us instant fairness, those great hair colours that promises to give us an instant cover-up for those spooky greys with a sheen and shine that comes extra, those teeth whiteners that will give our teeth a glow, a glow so bright that it could solve the problem of bad street lights in the rural India, all those products that will promise us ever-youth, defy age and keep us immortal denying us of the self and destroying everything connected therewith including self-worth and self-respect, which by the by is not packated and sold making ourselves a mockable ridicule by going to the farthest extent to escape the clutches of the impact time. For what?! To live for ever and ever more?! Who are we kidding?! One can walk out of a beauty salon after a full days TLC and walk straight into a speeding truck to be crushed to a pulp and to be scrapped out of the ground by a local street cleaner and sent straight to the morgue for post mortem where hyper-chlorinated water will be used to clean before finely wrapping into a cloth fit to lift a cockroach and dumped into a box fit to hold bullcrap before being sent home in a lousy vehicle fit to move some worthless nothing... Oops! by the by was I mentioning us?!

Thats all life is and all the hungama and dhamasha! The wild chase to defy time...

Bottomline: "God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled." Author Unknown

Its Different Sabji!

The scribblings on the walls of silence has not been scribbled on for a while... too much of unwordable scribblings. The humble acceptance of humiliations, the anticipation for more and the immunity attained from such with the frequency of humiliations like it was other's birth right on the rise.

Interestingly some ask me now whether I am an atheist, an anti-religious person or an antitheist. It is mostly the admirably religious fenatics and orthodox who ask me this and honestly I must confess that I am a believer... an extreme one in that case; totally have faith that there is a wonderful God up above, a belief so strong that I do not see the difference in humans unlike them who follow a religion.

Either I am too old or too tired to fight at the moment. Ignorance, ego, malice, manipulation, corruption, apathy... the list is endless and the need to have the energy to stand up, question and smash the regardless being the ideal, here I stand not knowing the ideal anymore, not knowing what is there to fight for, what is there to stand for and not knowing if at all a difference can be made, nevertheless if a difference needs to be made when everyone shares the comfort of being the same. The irony is that through the silence I helplessly keep, quite amusingly I have killed my soul and have let everything that I have stood against breed like maggots on living flesh. Feel so crowded when alone and alone when crowded. This is the best career performance as an actor in the stage of life I have done so far... and hardly does anyone realize there is a soul dying within. Sometimes people don't even mind killing the actor to get the performance they want. And I thank thee...

Bottomline: "Irony differentiates. Cynicism never does." Paul Horgan

Says Who?!...

The 'utopia' is something that has nudged me into complex circles these days. The utopia, what can I say not about that? Utopia! something that everyone yearns for yet fear to go near. Its always an ever present scenario that we always like others to follow something that we profess that seldom we ourselves dare to venture.

Not a long time ago, I remember a friend from Canada who mentioned that she realized that she was brown only when someone showed signs of remorse via discrimination towards her. The inherent barbaric tendency and ability to discriminate comes so easily for the human species. Wish the often tabloid'ed aliens abduct this genre and keeps them far far away from the rest of us. Sometimes, we can sit, wait and wish for the utopia to emerge or, stand, move and make the change.

'Never hunt something you can't kill' used to be a hunter's golden rule. In a state of wonder I wander in my connecting thoughts of all these disconnects. Ironically the one's who labelled other fellow humans as "untouchables" went so far that no one went close to them that they be touched and made untouchables of the ones who set forth to name others so. Today, who is the untouchable?! The world spins and that is the basic truth. What goes around, comes around and what goes up, comes down and there is always reaction to every action.

Time and tide waits for none and at the end of the day, no man (nor woman) is too great for the soil waiting to devour them whole. The more one gathers, the more one leaves behind... the basic truth yet again. Again, we shall choose to live as if we are immortals; trying to cover up every dying cell and tissue with whatever science tries to provide avoiding and preferring to deny the fact that we are only decaying bodies alive.

There are more people dead than ever, who don't have a single nerve or a spine to stand up for something that is right. Fear! What would they do if they have no fear and do something sans guilt? Probably do the right thing I suppose. No wonder the Earth is composed of everything that is not right these days.

Taking the higher road, like the one I am with says, we shall move on and wait for the others around to grow up.

Bottomline: "One day our descendants will think it incredible that we paid so much attention to things like the amount of melanin in our skin or the shape of our eyes or our gender instead of the unique identities of each of us as complex human beings." Franklin Thomas

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

"It is often easier to become outraged by injustice half a world away than by oppression and discrimination half a block from home.” Carl T. Rowan

Half-Naked Lies

Every truth is only half the truth. Truth is farther than the eyes do see and deeper than the ears doth hear. There is always something lurking in the shadows. Even the one who claims to be an 'open book', needs to reiterate as even an open book opens only 2 pages.

Life is so interesting and it is a base truth that even the best criminal leaves a trace to link to the truth behind. Some links can hardly be erazed. How truthful are we if a mirror were to be flashed to our face? How true is the image we see? Faking ourselves so much and dwelling in falsehood and pseudo deliberations to save our faces, how much have we really been able to save compromising on what we have lost, is it worth it?

Sometimes out of a juvenile lust, we run behind a trace and the trails lead us to a combustible heap of shattering, mangled truth that makes the lies we believed in coil up and wriggle, ushering a frantic cry from a vacuum. A time when anything we do becomes justifiable for the half naked truth that we were made to believe that just clouded us black.

Lies! Glorious lies! Dig in and dig in deeper and there we find truth simpler yet unconfessed... as we dig it is not the lies that shatters us yet the pain of digging that we don't want to dig any more. Thus lost, we let go... wanting to dig no more. If the truth that was hidden was more important than the one lied to.

Bottomline: "You can fool some people all the time, and all the people some time, but you can not fool all the people all the time." Abraham Lincoln

The 3 Idiots Met...

Yesterday, after a long time, I had good company. 3 of us got together for a petite bash. Old friends, since kindergarten; time has taken us to 3 different places over time. One lives in Baltimore, the other in Qatar and the good for nothing me in that one straight road. One recently (a week ago) got married and is already fed up. The other, the America-returned intends to yet the girls think he is too dark and he finds it amusing that girls from Las Vegas embrace him with more love than these prejudiced, diced up creatures here. How amusing!

We rather had a variety of topics to talk about... more on how lonely it gets in any land outside your very nest, the money made, the money lost, the time we were having that we seemed to be missing the most, made elaborate plans for the following day which soon was to be broken...

However... we treasured the time together and that is what meant most. Away from family, away from the stupid work place where they squeeze the last drop of milk from everyone's tits till the udder bleeds, away from the nagging wife, away for a while... after all heaven drops and hell calls. The funniest moment was when after all the fillings we had, from one of the "starred" hotels, one of the guys looks at us and goes, "Can I ask for one thing please?" and we go, "Yeah sure, ask and it shall be granted!" and he goes, "I want idli and dosa please..." hahaha! it was almost 12 at night, Cindrella's hour... and a promise is a promise. So there we drove to the bus stand and had idlis and dosas to our hearts fill under the stars... probably a multi starred hotel for the moment. Another unplanned plan and yet another moment to cherish.

Like one of the fellas' mother once said to me, "Earlier we had nothing and today my kids have brought home everything; today I have every'thing' except for the kids around me." God knows when we shall meet again or if we ever will, however, after a long long time had some good time for good.

Bottomline: "Long before history began we Men have got together apart from the women and done things. We had time." C. S. Lewis

The Significant Stop!

The open confession to begin with, I do not appreciate pro-government nor pro-military notes and do not render my support in any form to these congested, worm-infested, greed-creeped, manipulative divine hole of son's and daughters (now they have 33% reservation too) of the 'feminine form of the loyal creature'. Journalists and media seem to be so anti-people too these days yet somehow, somebody, somewhere manages to break these miserable assumptions trying to blanket-cover people into rendering them into misinterpretations and lobbying misguided point of views; thus sabotage brain cells of the common mass they care the least about. Often I wonder why pro-people, pro-environment friendly, pro-cultural and traditional safeguards of the society get sidelined and victimized as terrorists. Constitution was the biggest enemy to these souls who were free to live life their way till then. With the right to vote granted, lost was their right to self-respect, dignity and right to live above all. This comes with the tribals, often referred to as the 'uncivilized mass' who need to be "civilized" and make them come into the 'main stream' of "development" in whatever definition we choose to give these terms.

People are lost and people are trained to kill.... in the military and by the people. Now who is the victim?! Think about it... both are! Then the benefactor?! Uncle West and the government babus who run to fetch the morsels strewn at them for being the pimp in between to help them clear jungle territory, flora and fauna dear to those who live and those who live in there and every one who comes in between... all for making way for mines which by the by gets labelled as 'civilization measures'... actually thinking about it, they actually erect hospitals (specialized) as part of their "Corporate Social Responsibility" activity which by the by would not be required if their malicious projects were not sanctioned in the first place and our people safeguarded instead of providing hospitality to alien uncles and aunties... we were always a rich man's slave and slave to anything with a white skin... weren't we?! The reminiscence of licker's of the white man's thrash. The Media, Journalists and Social Workers often becoming a part of the pseudo-welfare measures... after all we are fools too.

Why do we kill our own to feed a breed that does not bother? Why are we a breed that don't bother? Why do we we even breed?

Dog eat dog world this. Heads want to demoralize, demotivate and snub the growth of the so called "team members". From where do they come? Why come at all? How long will people survive on these pseudo-pretentious faking?! If I were to belive that truth alone triumphs, then why bother about these lying, scandalous games people play? "Why bother" more effectively applies here I suppose. Respect is something that exists only till a point I decide to give. After that... who the fcuk cares dear?!

Bottomline: When the lofty boss walks, the humble pagan knows very well and 'that' he knows way too well how to humbly bow and silently fart

A mail to say its o.k...

Dear Commissioner,

Hope that this mail of mine finds you well. Was caught in a turmoil of conclaves, colloquiums and conferences where i had to render the key-note address from the Development Sector; hence the delay in responding.

Hope you are aware of the 'stun in awe' syndrome that affects people when they come across something as beautiful as what you had sent. w.r.t the opinion poll factor, legend goes that it is very difficult for mediocre files to pass the Commissioner's table... been there to vouch for it too. To prove the legend yet again, this ppt. that has come just off your table, is an ensemble of fine theoritical aspects that cry for the utopian (as if that is too much to ask for) that leans to strike a chord at the apathetic and ignorant crowd.

Sometimes, we wonder in distress if the noise of the silent cry of the victimized and vulnerable is too hard for people to hear... is it so feeble that the doors at which empathy is begged for seldom opens and permanently remains shut?! A paradox where the struggle to connect to the heart has to surpass the mind's acceptance. The appeal is often made to the mind to reach the heart. A far more unreachable connect is the attempt to connect to the soul which we govern not speak any more. Its a lost world! And proudly lost too. Its people like you, the phoenix type, who destroy yourself to ressurect the dead (irony that the imp speaks of these during Easter).

The attempts that I made ever since I saw the slides open was to bring in more crowd to peep into my laptop... however, some lost interest in between the slides and some just stayed for my sake (just that they did not want to offend me by moving away unlike their less faking counterparts) yet some stayed glued, stuck to every word, image and numbers that flowed... these are my fellow "Develop'mental' workers and the amateur crowd". Nevertheless, rather than worry why it did not bother people, the shift was towards what bothered some. Learnt that the faint sign of hope in the utopian still remains in a few who stayed and wanted to work together than criticize, complain and crib. 'If change is expected, be the change' being the mantra. Deep inside, the devil's advocate professes that to help the children on the street care be taken that in a lusty haste don't forego your very own needs and cummulate with them in their own grounds on the streets. Some hands are helplessly bound in a trail of survival; the luxury to do what the heart wants to still being a lust perceived like a mirage in a distance.

A slide towards the end screamed for a change in the system and the "system" that needed a change can be interpreted in too many different ways for which I had to rely upon my friend Lenin (the Revolutionist) for support... 'Begin from the beginning' He said and so rightly said. So thus followed a lecture for the wilfully staggering crowd on primitive Communism where boundaries were erazed and it support rendered not to one's ability yet to one's need. Hope this band wagon that is slowly yet steadily rising string itself well and overcome the issues a.s.a.p... we shall overcome someday!

Will be in touch,

Fredjeev

Raise Your Stakes

What to do when one knows that it is never the wise and always the fool who try to run behind people to offer help yet is forced to?!

Life has always taught as it always does and always will that people holding placards shouting "May I help you?" actually will be taken for granted and actually represent that majority of the community that have problems themselves and try to cover it up by trying to solve the problems of others. Hope all Social WOrkers and Psychologists are listening!

That is why we need to bill the clients so that they feel that they need to get thier money's worth from the sessions... otherwise any professional risks being taken for granted. And usually any service offered for free, is criticized, doubted and ineffective. Charge people for God's sake! I am sure if they can get into shit, they will pay well to get out of it as well.

Paying makes people feel good. They feel worthy to feel good cause they have paid for it. Giving people a chance to feel good, if thats our aim, then topple bills on them. Unless we pay for the medicine, the medicine effect is often negated. No wonder that wonder drugs from the poor sage sitting under a tree meditating, listening to you and making customized medicines poured into bottles the ragpicker picked and cleaned for re-use, often given with a sense of passion and free of cost is ditched with haste and the stethescope and syringe injecting the red medicine (which is actually onlyu a dose of B-complex) more effective (though a placebo) as it comes with a cost.

The Veblen Effect! The costlier it gets, the better it is supposed to be. Bridegrooms quoting a higher dowry (price) tag on their heads are often fought for like a prized calf... Guys ask for more! Charge more! Raise the demand. Superfluous though it sounds, thats what works. Greedy Mamma's and following suit, the Pappa's will give anything to get this guy to put up with their dripping daughter to save her from her misery. Ask for nothing in the name of "Socialism", "Equality" and "Justice" et all the crap, they will deem upon you some malicious scam or ostracize you unmercifully condemning you with some strange unnameable disease yet to be discovered that you possibly might have. Try it; find it; one will know. Why even risk, just raise your stakes and save yourself of all these embarassment.

Bottomline: “When the world has once begun to use us ill, it afterwards continues the same treatment with less scruple or ceremony, as men do to a whore” Jonathan Swift

Tell Me Why?...

From when wilt thou return

from the mountain dews?

From those high peaks that rub my imagination through.

Where oft doth thou disappear

from a fragile trail of foot prints that reappear?

From where the frantic cries of the reaper submerge dies.

What hath thou so wonderfully witnessed

from a town so tinsel lies?

From where the condemnation forked displayed.

When thou art gone

for what must I still low lie?

From whereever, tell me how, tell me now, tell me why?

Bottomline: “The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.” Mother Teresa

Oft She Reminds...

There is someone who has been tolerating me quite a lot, quite a bit these days... Hey by the by, don't 'quite a lot' and 'quite a bit' mean the same thing though they sound different?

Last heard her say, 'Angel or Devil, Animal or Beast, I love you every single way'... Isn't that something quite nice to hear?

Finding comfort in all the masks one dons... Sometimes the person closest to us is the one who gets burnt the most when the crazy world is at its best doing the worst it can possibly do. At times the fire within that can burn others, burns us as well, which at times seems indestructible and over powering, magnifies and intensifies if soemone tries to send the wind that way... doesn't work. Period. What actually works is a dash of water thrown mercilessy, chilling us to the spine where the effort to errupt will not work no more. Perfect. Another angle that works is that fire often when found at its extreme, is extinguished with fire too. So may be an equal and opposite reaction does the trick too. Precisely.

However, the manipulative mind and the games people play, makes no sense when the soul can rest sans any worry from these rat dens. Oft she reminds that simpler things in life, the basics, those things for survival and living, are simple and prevents me from having an imbalance by rendering me into an excess of those to compensate for the brain games the urban jungles adheres me to play. Sometimes, loaded with more than we can possible fire, people who require due credit and place in our lives, we seldom provide and at moments like these, time renders its support to tell her that she is remembered oft.

The perfect balance is quite imbalanced with more and less often overcrowding into one sphere of our lives... all that one needs and possibly can do is to find a stimulant and grab the time when time plays its lusty tune for us to grab the moment... moment to moment. Some of the best plans are oft the unplanned plans. So I learnt.

Bottomline: “To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.”

From the Hunted Hut in a War Island, a Lonely Cry...

Hence when did thy breasts hate to feed me?
Hence then haven’t they heaved to need me?
Oh mother! Why art thou so silent?

Those bombs and those ammos from the machine guns, they bother me no more.
They sound more like a lullaby to me.
Wasn’t it you who reassured me that this is life even before I was born?
Now why do you still lie?

My eyes still won’t open full and I only see darkness wherever I see.
Tears have dried and my voice too fragile to rise above the noise outside me.
Oh mom! Why can’t you shout for me?

I heard papa’s plea to let you go before they shot that mercilless bullet into his head.
I saw it, I saw it all...
I heard you beg to let me go;
Now where did you go too?
Why have they taken it all even before I can understand in a life time or more what this is all for?

Is it wrong that I was born to thee?!
Tell me mom, tell me now from up above,
won’t a bullet silence me too?

Bottomline: “I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was war?" Eve Merriam

From the Mind to the Heart...

Ruthless summer scorching the winds that blow,

From deep within, from the abyss of the mind, begins a scorching even more.

The volcano of thoughts boiling the ground below, that moment of calm before the storm.

The waves of the ocean too mellow they sound yet the depths of the mystery they so profoundly do hide.

In wellness and mystic calm, there is a tension uprising;

waiting for the emotions to get a definite form.

The molten lava that soon will flow and sure it will wait for none or spare none who fall that way,

such is anger and such is anger divine with knuckles buckling with each clench, teeth grinding with each blow endured, and the smell of blood mixing so well with sweat for the pain borne.

A reminder that some reasons matter no more for the brunt comes from a crux of essence undisclosed, so passive and vivid now that the one that bears is lost in the faint reminder of the trance that life has led itself into.

What makes people think that by birth they are given the slot they stick their arses to?

What insecurity makes them kick the one's that climb?

What prevents them from enjoying the fight?

What stops them from dropping a helping hand than nuzzling the neck with their heavy boots?

When will this crushing be over?

When will they ever learn that life is simple and we live it just once?

Fate and Karma are just one over-hyped bullshit to soothe the heart and to reinstall that mortals are immortal... when will they that behest the chance and blame it on fate and karma ever see that the heart doth ruleth the world and seldom the mind and the distance between both the longest one oft travels.

Bottomline: Give me the money that has been spent in war and I will clothe every man, woman, and child in an attire of which kings and queens will be proud. I will build a schoolhouse in every valley over the whole earth. I will crown every hillside with a place of worship consecrated to peace. ~Charles Sumner

Whats Happeneing...

After the midnight rants, there was something I could find to write about. There is nothing that has affected me in the recent past and that bothers me quite a bit. By the by, my book titled "Taking the higher road..." is waiting to be published and I am waiting for the release. Now, like every one needs a reason to write, I await an inspiration... something that has the power to affect me. Not just a muse or something of that sorts from the realms of a writer; yet something that would bother me, trouble me and make me bring it out without which the soul would be bothered quite a bit... to a point where rest would be impossible. People around are either too plain or too boring and the best at times, explicitly and unconditionally display a combination of both. Now I have to look at objects or things for inspiration... its the same anyway... duh!

This time my rsoulution for my B'day was quite volomnous. Speak less, do more; Eat less, workout more; Hate less, Love more... and so on and so forth; and quite obviously as all resoulutions go, mine turned upside down as well. Doing more of the less and vice versa.

The guy who has been irritating me from across the official corridor, is definitely not an inspiration yet a nuisance. Of late, I have also come to know that he vanishes during the weekends to look at girls his parents pick for him (so I knew someone had to do it for him)... Oh by the by, "girlies!" if there is a son of a bitch at your door and he speaks in malayalam too, beware... it could be this freak. Having issues with his dental outside and an incurable mental inside.

What care do woMen take to pick the sperm-depositer who installs the seed into them... do they even care?! Are all people alike as I try to perceive them or are they all quite different as I expect myself to be? Do woMen have brains at all? Cos' some stupid woMan is going to get these guys who we, the Male community, think are born 'nuts' and even doubt if they have what I just now referred them as and probably try to build a spine around him and try to get him recommended into a Male circle and try to even promote him as a Male rather than have him mocked around and soon get tired of this 'trying'... duh! woMen, woMen, woMen! do they even know?! One stupid feMale i know, said that 'all Men have the same size of penis and so whats the difference?' If only it was true! Duh! woMen! are they as stupid as they often look?!

Recently there was one woMan who was highly commented upon for revealing her bosom through her saree... As usual, I was asked to comment on this signature move by the lady to get the attention she actually needed. Personally, I feel that there is a thin line... a very thin line that seprates vulgarity from sensuality and to me the display of extra fat in an exuberant way was not that sensual and she had an eye and I preferred noticing that to other flubbers popping out.

However, with these kinds of trivial issues happening around, I wish to see if there are better things to be bothered about... am even contemplating to move away from this self-concealed box and enter the crowded world again... one more time.

Bottomline: “I warn you, if you bore me, I shall take my revenge.” J.R.R. Tolkien

Defending A Lie

Over the last week, after the glorious return from the mountain tops, as if to ruin the lifted spirits, a son of a bitch inspires me with lies and expects me to defend. Can anyone understand how difficult it is to defend lies than prove truth?! Its like having to prove that unicorns don't exist... how do I do that?!

This a-hole drops in from God's own country known for stabbing people on their backs and does the same with moi. Thanks buddy! The issue errupted because I confronted him directly Man to Man... the problem was it took me a while to realize that some fellows sprout hair even after castration. This fcuker actually cried during the confrontation! hahaha... The sobber's trails leads to the comforting demands he sets forth at his HoD's table, later the Dean's and a sequence of inter-departmental meetings that followed. Duh! More ass-kissing and ass-wiping for that son of a bitch.

However, it irritated me, not quite angered. The one thing I long for is to fight a real enemy and these fcukers spoil the sport. Too many people have offered me the courtesy of fighting for real and fighting for a cause... the fight that errupts the soul within and troubles your sleep and refreshes you with a cause to wake up for, sharpen your swords and fight once again... and now this trivial a-hole wants someone to wipe his tears?! "Grow up! or shoo shoo go get Papa the bone (bitchy mutt)!" At the end of the day, a Manz gotto do what a Manz gotto do! So haven't slipped him from my scope yet it moves...

Bottomline: "It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious." Oscar Wilde

At The Gatta

Its been long since I scribbled a post. A 7-day rural camp with the first years and as usual a aptitude and attitude adjusting endeavour for many... Going there to teach, I was humbled more than ever as a learner; such beautiful dynamics among the group. However, in a no Man's land, no wires, no mobile network, no milk, no grocery, no medical shop... almost nothing! Life was peaceful.

Towards the end of the camp, a sudden reminder of the car, laptop, mobile etc., that soon I will have to end up connecting with, disoriented me so much... those unnecessities of life. Duh!

Life can be lived so simple and so easy as well; and I got a taste of that as well. From the place we were stationed, I could see some luscious, dreamy mountains in peaceful slumber... a million pages can be written atop those peaks I felt. A million and more...

FOr a week, I did not touch money and back to reality, I had to and felt like it meant nothing. Communism or what they call primitive Communism was so good... felt good. Now back to the money world, fake smiles, compulsive emotional displays, reactions, response and all those nurtured creations of humanity... the ticket to belong! With noises from the world cut, in silence, voices from within was audible... writing too now feels loud and I aspire silence once more.

The nature of the beast still holds firm and only reassured lies, knowing more than anyone else does that nothing is stronger than its weakest link.

Bottomline: "We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey." Stephen Convey

Want To Touch Her

Been trying to get some concepts into an idea that emerged... so took a while to sit and blog. However, its nice to see the counter hits increasing. Then about the pondering obviously uncouth (they are mine), think I am trying to have a system in my madness trying to arrange them; so have papers, charts and diaries strewn everywhere and am trying to network between books, transcending between literatures like a child lost in an amusement park. Whatever...

Yesterday, in the night as a friend and I were waving good nights to the kids across the house, we were silenced as we proceeded to hear the winding of my friend-that 9 feet long black cobra-around a cat. Undefinable screaming of the cat found no mercy with the reptile. The silence becoming stronger with every coil... The distant death was profoundly obvious and the mystery of the night camouflaged it quite well. We both looked at each other and said, 'its over'. Just as we said that, we heard a hungry whining of an ambulance speeding across the road. Another somebody at the grip of death... the siren silenced too at a distance. We looked at each other and said, 'think they will reach in time'. Hope and despair... both in silence endured. With every day going by, the coil just getting tighter, the siren just getting louder and death ineveitable.

The kiss of death, like a lover's kiss, a delightful surprize when mutual. Have I feared death? Never! Has death feared me? Suppose not too! Been kissed just as much as I have kissed it too. Never wanted to die several times fearing it-before dying that one time once and for all.

At the moment, I remember that little girl whose mother had died; who never knew what death was-she probably thought that her mother was sleeping a little longer than usual and there was a jobless crowd of people watching her sleep, quite strangely. The next day after the burial, when I felt that reality would have kicked in and she would begin to feel her absence, I went to see her and watch how a little child was coping up with pain. Reached her house and there were people consoling her father. My eyes searched for her and she was invisible. Kept moving till I came to the dining table where on one end her mother's garlanded photograph was kept. With the maximum stretching she could do, she was trying desperately to reach the photo frame (thats how small she was). Just then, I saw her and she saw me. With a relief, she came closer to me, hugged me as usual and asked, "I am trying to reach my mom; can you carry me and take me closer to my mom I WANT TO TOUCH HER". If there was anything that has killed me, this was it. To be in that place and to realize this innocence, even the uncouthed barbarian would have moved. Carried her. She touched. She looked at me and said, 'I miss her'. Tried very hard not to let that drop of tear clouding my eyes not slip away infront of her.

Bottomline: "I am prepared to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter. " Winston Churchill

First Encounter With Death

There was a program I was watching on television about tatooing; this is something I am fascinated about yet I had and still slightly do, a sort of bigotry about the ones who get it done. There was an young lady who came along with her mother in this program with a photo of a very beautiful girl in hand and wanted the same tatooed in her calf. The girl she said was her sister and she kept blabbing about how close they were et all... the twist of the story came when she mentioned that she was getting the image of her sister tatooed following her first death anniversary. However, stranger was the story that followed... This tatooing lady had gone out for a party and had returned late on that fateless day to find her sister lying face down and when she tried to wake her up she found that she had collapsed beyond return. The interesting part of the story did not stop there. The tatooing sister was pregnant during this incident and was filled with mixed emotions-guilt and sadness to be specific following the loss. Guilt was due to her absence during her sister's suffering and sadness as she would miss her sister during her pregnancy. The mother of twists followed now... this sweet lady delivered a girl who grew up to look exactly like her dead sister in the exact same spot where her sister had died by chance... Wow!

This incident actually brought into me reminiscence of Jeba. Jeba was one of my best friends in primary school. The kind of person with whom you write your homework et all. His mother was a very sweet lady and I used to admire the way the house was kept-always organized and clean-quite contrary to the ever present havoc and catastrophe in ours. One day Jeba didn't come to school and later that evening I was told that his mother had died and Jeba was there besides waiting for his father to fly in from some country. This was the first news of death I heard. Never understood. Still don't. He wa so young and such huge a loss? He had walked in after school and his mother, neatly dressed as usual in her crisp saree, was lying in the bed as if peacefully sleeping, he later told me. He had gone and tried to wake her up and as his attempt to do so, grew louder, neighbours stepped in. Still kills me as an adult trying to empathize what a child would have gone through while trying to wake a mother who would never wake. Jeba never understood death either at that point. Later Jeba never came to school... was told that his father had taken him with him... never seen him so far. Its a small world afterall and I still remember this child.

Bottomline: Just once we die and just once we live... yet just how many times do we die to live just once?!

Take Me Home...

For almost the past 3 decades I have seen this place... a small town, drenched with middle class values, crowded with people who know you or expect you to know them. Can't change a few things around us like the folks one is born to and the colour of the skin. Think about it, though born into one religion, one can eventually choose a religion or a spiritual line best suited for oneself... people knew it and thats why they brought in the concept of tribe and caste to keep us pinned to the floor or the sky and managed to keep some dangling in between. Then the one's who braved to surpass that too climbed the class ladder denying the virtue deemed upon them. At the end of the day, my nest, though unacceptable, seems to be this small town which I am neither able to deny nor adjust too... Yeah, my identity rests here yet I am a citizen of the world.

Having travelled quite a bit, I often have felt that this small town though nauseating, is the safest abode on Earth. No one bothers you unless you bother them. WoMen don't roam around like lost souls or diggers for male company on the streets once the street lights are on and it still is obvious. Oh by the by, woMen don't let their hair loose too... supposed to be "prostitutes" who don't tie their hair. The little shackles and those little tin shops have not changed, the people working there have not changed and they still recognize me and welcome me just as they did when I used to be there during my younger days... they surprized me by asking about my friends too. There is a shop I went to have parattas yesterday and I remember the guy who makes them who killed a rowdy in that area when I was in school... he is still there and still makes the parattas... everything seems the same.

Now the issue is that nothing changes. Nothing changes even for good. Now thats the issue. People hoard... money, jewels and land. Territorial I suppose. People are critics or snubbers of criticism rendered upon them... the others in between are treated as inbetweens (eunuchs).

Here, the grass is clean, the mountains really tense, the valleys really deep, the water crystal clear and pure, the beaches soft, the waves gushing and the rains frequent... a metaphor to the emotions of the people here as well.

Much can be said about this place... however, I am glad that I atleast have a nest and an identity that comes along with it. A place where one can be lonely in a crowd and feel dense even when alone. It heals as much as it inflicts pain. Where do I run away to from here? Where to? Have tried it several times only to return with humility over and over again.

Bottomline: "When you finally go back to your hometown, you find out it wasn't the old hometown you missed but your childhood" Sam Ewing

Hobsons Choice

Today, the day willing, I decided to write on choices. Right from picking the movie in the mall one decides to spend 2-3hrs of one's daily allowance of time to the decision to be with someone or not to be to the career to take up... every occassion redeems one with choices one has to make... many disagree... the same group who agreed easily that there was a planet called 'Pluto'.

Often one hears someone say, 'I had to do it. I was helpless. I had no choice.' Come on, who are they crapping with?! No choices??? or chose to not make any? a choice again... even if we went with the choice someone else made for us, that was a choice once again... hahaha!

There have been moments when I have been puzzled, almost everytime, I read a story about a girl being raped 'against her will'. Do we still attempt to pseudo-agree that a woMan can be entered without her involvement?! With the oldest (Male) virgins around, I think I will have difficulty explaining this. However, to make it simple, let me put it this way... its not possible. She had a choice and she made it. Rape or technically speaking an aggressive sexual encounter was only incidental. However, personally I feel that child-sexual abuse, where the child is unaware of the pleasure in it, devoid of it, experiences the pain, is offensive.

Anger is a luxury... very few can afford to show it. Passive anger as an option is even deadly making one a brewing pot of neurotoxins. At the end of the day, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. What do we choose? To react or to respond? Emotion or logic?

There are 3 things in life one would live for or die for... simplicity, truth and love... the Trinity I often mention. And the choices one has to make to find it!

No matter how long one takes to make that choice, finally the choice is made at the last second. That split second. Its so simple yet so complex... the drama that goes with it, around it et all that comes with it... that bloody split second. Probably thats why Henry Ford said, "Any colour as long as the colour is black" to make it easier for us to make the decision. Then why so long a time in turmoil in the process?! Its a simple 'yes' or a 'no' or 'Oh! look a third dimension!' the last happens in very few situations though. Again Swami Vivekananda says, "Forces cannot be created, only directed." Everything around us makes it simple for us to make choices and we waste Time, Energy, Emotions and Money (TEEM).

Uncalculated redemption with genuiness is what scriptures in the spiritual world redeems upon us... this genuiness is uncomplicated substituted with the word 'innocence'... Expecting nothing out of our good deeds... even forgetting the incident; for there are more to do... not taking reminders in for feeling good. Moving to the higher road where one simply does good. Thathuvum Asi.

A friend of mine once said that behind everything one does, there is a selfish reason. 'Mother Teresa did all that she did because otherwise, she wouldn't have felt good and so to feel good she did what she did'... thats what he used to say. Point well taken. However, I agreed to disagree and wanted to test that theory. The way out, 'don't feel good.' Feeling thus, one begins not feeling bad as well... thus comes in a guilt-free living. Emotions becoming a straight line... that way sacrificing happiness to not experience sadness.

Bottomline: "Two roads diverged into the woods and I took the one less travelled by; and that has made all the difference." Robert Frost

Knowledge Reapers

People have different ways of interpreting 'goodness'. In the small community I live in, if one is a teetotaller, then goodness is crowned upon him... all this need for goodness comes into foreplay when finding the ideal match. Yet, I have seen superbly nurtured teetotallers who abuse the woMan they are with and smoking drinkers who are wonderfully good to their partner. Now whats goodness?!

Yesterday I told Arun that goodness is all about how you take care with genuine consideration sans any ulterior motive the person next to you... be it your partner or your friend or our neighbour or simply anyone next to us. Nish Kama Karma. Immediately he connected it to the movie '300' where the Spartans are adviced to fight for the one besides... to help him with further connections, I told him that in warfare, the military secret is to protect the comrade besides.

Information, knowledge and news we gather to curb ignorance, losing innocence, that which we rapidly search for at the end of the tunnel... Duh! However, History has taught us one thing and it sure has that we create more of what we consider is good for us and the excess of this produce is what will kill us at the end... applies to the hunger for knowledge as well. Probably thats why the knowledge gatherers resort to wisdom by opting to cut the noises and voices that clouds the brain and resort to silence as seen in the lives of many for whom climbing into the caves in the Himalayas becomes more important than frantically stepping on the corporate ladder or leading a kingdom... rendering to thoughtless thoughts.

It is often the lonely mind that tries to preoccupy itself with information, knowledge and opinion dumping; lest it suffer the burden of loneliness... often relaxing in books and more often surrendering to relationships to find solace in bodily comfort for diversion.

At the end of the day what do we carry? Nothing! Nothing at all... we leave a lot behind though. The more one gathers, the more he leaves behind. Simple, isn't it? Ces't la vie.

Bottomline: Yet it moves...

In Response...

After a long time I received an intellectual feedback to a post and I felt it would be ideal to respond. The comment goes as such:

>"I don't know the context behind the pseudo misogynist rant, but you are right on expecting the woman to take care of herself. But the expectation would be mutual, right?"

"mutual", depends on where you decide to stick your relationship to-the heart, the mind or the soul. That sounds very oratory... so let me put it this way. If one were to respond sans react (which seldom we adhere to), the choice between instinctual reaction (slightly barbaric often our own and so natural) or logic response (a civilized option always imposed, cultivated and nurtured) needs to be made.

Yet often the instinct is hungry and needs to be fed, the animal within screams for release for the better, rather than seal the coffin with restrictions even before one dies.

The ideal pair is just as much complex as it is simple to find the right combination. A masochist is an ideal match for a sadist and an exhibitionist ideal for a voyeur and so on and so forth... arranged marriages shown desperation and lack of hope where 2 souls come with a bowl of expectation to be filled... how can 2 people with begging bowls feed each other?! yet we decide to give in to arranged marriages?! The dilemma between 'have to marry' and 'want to marry'... yet just as everything in life comes, this too comes with choices.

">people asked me whether he was impotent
Poor cousin. But poorer are the people who asked such a question.. they are 'sans intellect'."

Sans intellect or maybe they were opinionated. After all, all the facts, we believe in, all the theories we learn, all the knowledge we feed ourselves with, correcting and recorrecting, pondering and wondering, information, news and all the "intellectual" feedings we push into us, are all a maze of opinions of others... Probably they too just came out with a hypothesis and I can't confirm the null hypothesis yet... probably they could be right too.

">attempts were made to save the girl's face by telling my cousin that she had refused him first
Bollocks! I guess if it hadn't been the family folk who said this, he would have given them the ... He could still do that.. euphemistically. ;-)"

Women typically (when generalized) like to refuse and not be the refused. So a gentleman will always grant that wish to her as a final kiss goodbye. And there is no need to attack the arrow and spare the archer... the comment was designed elsewhere, so whats the point fighting the messenger?! hahaha... Once again sticking on to barbarism I personally believe in, diplomacy or euphemisms are only a compromise for a deadly mixture of a cleverly designed instinctual logical attack-which requires patience... yet everything of class comes as a result of patience... don't they?! The longer it takes, the thicker the venom and heavier the strike and at times a venemous strike is not even necessary with time passing by... So, till then I shall route in my "pseudo" rants naturally misogynist. Hahaha! Buddhism helps.

Bottomline: Truth is lie told the way you want others to hear... 'relative truth' and 'absolute truth' as Buddhism notes... "a pathless path" as truth often is explained, is only a bubble...

Bring Them On

These days I see really young people getting married. Do they know the 'committment' factor in it? Are they aware of the sacrifices, compromises and accomodation in perspective? From where the guts? Are they ready? Is it just a license for desperates for sex? or is it just an awaiting experience? whatever...

The problem for me is the comfort that people reach when with someone they are with... so comfortable that they no more take care of their body, become evidently clumsy and so obviously boring. What did they expect?! The other to be with them sans being with someone else too (a.k.a "cheating")? when women they are with become pathetically stinky, filthy and pms'ing 24/7... Wow! great expectation.

Marriage-a life style? a committment? a burden? a headache? an adventure? an experience? whatever...

Recently when one of my cousins refused a girl his parents were trying to fix for him, people asked me whether he was impotent... hahaha! the next unavoidable question when I asked them to find it out themselves, was whether he was gay. Just as I was wondering if people missed expecting him to have some kind of STI, attempts were made to save the girl's face by telling my cousin that she had refused him first. The thing was that she 'was' a very attractive lady I had known earlier, she thought so too and took it to her head too... that being the sad twist of being rejected at this stage. However, everything upright sags as the skin shrinks and there shatters the ego when one gets only the second or the last look. Come on, even old actresses, once cabret dream stalkers and beauty queens die lonely when old.

Recently I was telling one very beautiful woman how men tend to screen a woman's hair to assess her unseen neatness, hygiene and cleanliness... split ends, dandruff and hair fall ofcourse a justified cause for worry. For many men, the scent of a woman can be a total turn off just as much as it can turn them on non-stop. Some times undone underarms, unwaxed legs and sprouting moush-a classical hint of too much comfort mentioned earlier-a dangerous gamble often a pitfall.

Some men just put up with this mess of a woman sans feeling that she does so because she has taken him for granted; and living they sure do in that illusion... afterall everyone wears a mask. whatever...

Bottomline: Life is just once... why not make it worth living?!