What title can this hold?

Rage… pure anger… it is a storm that rushed through the channels of brain to wash you away from this world. It sees no status; it sees no age, once you succumb, it generally leaves a burning trail.
What must he be who reins in this rage? What charming life he beholds who shuts his eyes to the onslaught of anger?
Today I earn for a gift such, that will brazen me against the gale of anger.

Heartless – people have called me.
Emotions of mine are dead they say, perse
I am a man who cries almost every day.

A student of age mature, she does her assignment in calm
She is working late, burning the midnight oil with no charm
Pages and pages of ink spent, her eyes are red and fingers torn,
Of a desire unknown, I ask – “what work you do at night this gone?”
She is doing as assignment in chemistry, I learn with patience running fast
Nanotechnology she says, with a disdain of one to whom this is already past
Bemused, surprised – I ask – “Do you understand that stuff dear?”
She says – “No, but it is mentioned in my lesson somewhere I fear.
So better a topic of what comes in my lesson, than something totally inane”

She has put efforts dear to heart, she who wakes at 5 by the strike of the clock
Writes this late into the night and alas, this effort, though sincere, is just a block
“But why spend such dark hours dear, when you learn naught?” – I ask
“20 marks, I have to get them to stay in the class” – she immediately balks.

God – I plead, rein my anger, I burst at me seams.
There she sits calms and parents ready to sleep.
I can ask her no more, for fear of being harsh
Her parents would hurt, and I fee the pain brash
What of such ignorance? What of this hard work?
Who is going to teach these kids of grown up age?
The school already refuses; by accepting such trash
The parents already torn by the child’s weary eyes
Who else – dares to teach them knowledge – who else?

This rage that burns in me, earning for learning things
This rage that burns in me at another’s failure to learn things
Is this not an emotion of the deep heart – but this world gone sore
Knows only the pity and sympathy – these are emotions they care
And I forever despair.

The Trial - Part 4

4. The Life ends


The judge raised his mallet
Announce he his – my decree
The court in silence smiled
As they sensed their victory.
I bowed my head not in shame
For I was – by proclamation – insane
Spoke him thus – altering my life:
“Hey you! I know not
Why thy have come here.
While, you could have lived,
Without stepping in here.
But as of now, you have
Condemned yourself to stake
So I decree – you deadon the eve of freedom day.
You shall die – like mad
As you have claimed insane
The current would burn
Your eyes to ashes and
Let the thoughtless brain – fried.”

I stood their meek

Blesses I thought of me
I die a death of sanity
To cherish the ever dark
No more the burdens
No more the twilights
I am now a man – who knows
Neither good – nor bad.

The Trial - Part 3

3. The Sanity ends


“Penalise me not, I am chaste
I was a pawn not the king
I acted, but think I did not
Plot was his, me only a part.
Alas! Me could have been any
None could have stopped
As I stand here, could have many
But for fate – that deceived
So penalize me not for its act
I am just a puppet of destiny.”
The court in its very silence
Seemed to hold the axe aloft
I turned wild in rage
An anger born of fear unknown
I screamed again at one and all
“Hey! All you men of mind
Stare not thus with no shame
What moral right you behold
To slay the weak man by strength.
My curse will endure me
And ye all shall suffer –
Do not kill me – I am INSANE”

The Trial - Part 2

2. The Night Ends

In the darkness multiplies
The night crossed my shut eyes
A thin string of light shone
A messenger from the day shone
Sly, with cunning, in devil’s time.
I swung my hands blinding him
I was the master here in the dark
Dare not any invade my park,
Here, my mistakes are unseen
The blunders of mine or no more
Unknown in the dark – orphans
Responsibility I can shirk now
As none can prove otherwise.
But what is this? – he sees me
It can’t be, oh no! Never –
The sun cannot raise today
I forbid it, I did for ever
But the devil hides – me an orphan
I am no win the heat of the light
God! Why me – I ask, I scream
But today the court convenes.

The Trial - Part 1

1. The Day Ends



Hunched and crushed by sorrow
I await the twilight to pass
In that park old, besides the pond.
The sun seems slow and tender
The water shimmers in pleasant calm
As if, strangling me, my breath
In an exhibition, of qualities
That has forsaken me for long.
Still… nowhere else to go…
I ponder on the pains of my world
The setting sure should absolve me
Or I am a man with insistent curse.
Thus, I await, the sky to turn red
That alone forebodes the end of day.
Slowly, but surely the skin declines
The western sky – in a dilemma color
Many stand enjoying the splendor
Arms in arms – youthful wonder.
To me alone, this has to end
The dark has to invade the light
Then, I shall walk to home
Assured, burdens are gone –
At least, until the light again invades.

Insanity

Aghast with fear, I crush her head

The hammer in my hands - hatred

Dares she to entice me in a sin

Of which I'm no where a kin

Blood splattered the wall's scream

"Bloody Murder" - a gruesome sin.

But they know naught of her whim

"Entice me -n a carpal fling"

The showering blows tires me now

Hands yield and the hammer falls.

There she lies with a face no more

And a gleeful smile I now sport.

She was a friend of mine for long

Close to heart and dear to mind

Shared we talks of all domains

In soul we were but one though two.

Things changed when, I perceive not

But a desire for each the heart craved.

Trusted she me in a glowing tribute

Offered herself to me in elegant style

My mind reeled under her disdain

And yearned it for a truce divine

But she lay Stark and Stripped

And my heart cried in vain

Of such sin I shall not allow

And then i struck the fatal blow.

Dead she is, Now dressed she is

Again my friend, dear of yore

Now i can, end my life so alone

With peace in mind - she died PURE.

Trip

The sun bowed to the whim of night
The smoke slow in raising – the last puff
The hot cup of tea – rejuvenating
The engines roared with delightful disdain.


Munching the miles, the car swept
A landscape whose wonder was lost
In the dark of the moonless night
With ease and joy – music and all.

A small light – a flicker to the eyes
Shimmered far ahead, a town in reckoning
And with glee the car sped to arrive
Till the darkness became abruptly blunt

The silhouette of a truck now visible
Too late, but to stare in fright
It was an explosion that killed three
Yet we stand watching our lives drift by.

An episode in life comes to an end
The rage of the screaming engine’s dead
And the adrenalin now killed in life
We stand with a calm that further scares me.

Self

The other day(this was long long ago), standing across the street, I was involved in a serious discussion about the generalities of life. My friend seemed to have given the topics a great lot of thought and put them in words too. It was not surprising to know that our wavelengths matched to a great extant as we were molded by almost the same background.
But as does happen with a lot of things, we had to differ on at least one topic and so we did. More interesting was the fact that the depth of difference was more than I thought it could have been.
The topic was the all interesting "self".
It started with ego and it ended in self. (What difference? later)
Before the realization of my thoughts let us look through his eyes.
His words with the odd change(grammatical only)-"Self confidence is unnecessary-'coz, self in itself should not be thought upon" okay more than the odd changes. But he says, if you do not see your self or in other terms you are truly selfless, then self-confidence will not even come into picture.
It feels so true. But if it is philosophies we are planning to live on, the world would have been idle and practicality would have become a distasteful slang. There are thousands of theories in both science and theology based on assumptions and so are never real and if at all they are to be absolutely real, then they would one of those undecipherable wondrous miracles that you would not want to believe in. To me his thought seems to be such a one.
God for reason unknown left the mind to stay independent of the heart. This has often lead a man into troubles unparalleled. I guess that's why matters of heart often defy logic, u see logic is for the head.
Any way this being the case with our body it is safe to assume that men are to suffer from bouts experienced between the heart and mind. The history shows heart has a better victory rate, and so the control of mind to an extent of complete selflessness does belong to theory with a big assumption. It has been the goals of saints and there penance have been tested to the limits and so goes the history.
Now am I speaking of not having that goal, wow! that would be too stupid, even for me. No, that is not what I'm hinting at. My point could be best put by the answer to the question- "what is the important requirement to achieve goals?"---------------------
Well u thought will power, a good answer. But lets get a bit more primitive, after all we still possess a lot of primitive instincts. Then I wouldn't be far off if i say "Belief"- belief in yourself. Now why is this necessary?
Why is this most important?
Man is a lazy animal.(the non lazy guys are exceptions and they need feel no insult, me included) and it is not often that he works without motivation, without drive. motivation is provided by the earthly pleasures or the glow of the goal. Now this is a factor in a mans work only when he is got the force in him to fulfil his motive-drive, yes? Where does this drive come from? Has to be with in him. Where does the motivation come from? Could be with in him or from outside. As mentioned above drive is the wheel on which motive is reached and thus the birth of a feeling inside is what makes man achieve what ever it is. It may even be the glory of selflessness. What of such feelings is important? The inborn belief that "I can achieve it", could we call this the source? which in turn translates into the confidence in the self, the feeling that it is in him to achieve the goal. Sounds logical.
It is often the foundation on which we build our work. While choosing a course, we see if we could finish it. maybe it would need hard work, but primary is the feeling that "I could do it." And so self belief becomes important even if the goal is to discard self. Now how is this possible? would not the confidence in self keep reminding of the self and thus obstruct the goal of selflessness? A valid Paradox? A superb question and if it had not graced its presence in your thoughts, read this whole thing again tomorrow when you are awake. But sticking to the topic, the answer to that would be in the answer to this question-"If you do not feel that u could achieve your goal, then would u ever achieve your goal?"
Think about it and I'm open for further discussions.
Did want to get into the topic of self confidence when I started, but it would be improper to impose burden of great lengths to a discussion. So let us see about them in an another discussion. What do u say?
Bye.

Government's Apathy or human sense's atrophy?

It was an ordinary day, the office hours dragged by and with each hour the adrenaline kept ebbing and finally I stood up from my seat with my mind completely numb with the mundane activities in the office. This was as far as I could let go, beyond this would only mean the death of the mind and I do not enjoy that idea much.

The time was 7:30 and to be truthful, this was a little early for me, i usually am playing TT at this hour and would have been playing at least for another hour, but the day had been crazy and I decided to leave.

As is to be expected, the 20 km journey was going to be a pain, often felt it would be better to sleep here in the office and live life out of office... would have also tried that had the office been any encouraging to some creativity. Bursts of speed and sudden breaks, cramming for the narrowest of the passages, i trode on with a mechanical precision born out of practise. Music was thudding into my ears from my mp3 player and that somehow kept me going. the roads were loaded with the lorries and buses. Buses that ply from Chennai to other cities in Tamil Nadu.

Half way to my home there is a huge and ambitious flyover project under construction. As ambitious and as relieving as it would be once completed, it was a nightmare during the construction. and that day it was turning out into a nightmarish nightmare. the junction had jammed and we were moving inch by inch from at least 3 kms from that junction.

The problem is that the junction is ultra important... four roads meet there.. one leading to the airport and it was also a highway to down south of Chennai, one was towards Bangalore and again a highway and one towards the bus station and another into the city.

This was nothing new however and with patience and music I amusing myself with people around me. it is certainly interesting to see people under such situations, though you are to become immune to the horns and the swears...

Suddenly there was a huge siren and i turned back to see to my utter horror an ambulance standing a little behind me. Should not have been horrifying as this wan nothing new either. but that day i was getting real wild with the siren and I started wondering what could be done. thought of calling 911 to ask for help to clear the traffic ahead, but later knew that would not help. Also I learnt that the CM was going back home from the airport. and i started wondering what else could be done...

The buses, they were so many in number, so many buses going on that road... all out of town buses and i suddenly remembered that there existed another ring road that connected the bus station to the highway well outside the city.

The buses should have been travelling that route. had they been on that path the roads would have been pretty empty and the ambulance could have gone ahead with ease. Now there was a life hanging in balance and the traffic was preventing the life from living.

At first i was raged against all the people. They were the ones who had fought for the buses to ply this route despite the alternate. They wanted to get into the buses from near to the home and did not want to travel to the station. Pathetic excuse. The roads were real wide almost a 6 laner. the road should have been easily handling the traffic but for the buses. But people wanted comfort, they wanted to catch buses at their doorstep.

How much more blind could they have been, they were ready to get into the bus and then slog it out in the traffic instead of taking an auto or another bus to the station. They were ready to slog out the traffic everyday of their life in order to make it easier on them selves on the rare days that they were going to go out of city. Such insane logic almost always enrages me to the point of murder and then slowly turns into an amusing topic for the sheer stupidity possible by man.

This is where i would have stopped thinking generally laughing it out, but that day the ambulance sound carried a pain into my heart that made me think further....

What in god forsaken hell was the government doing?

If the men had common sense and if they were capable of making intelligent decisions, would we need a government, or rules?

We establish a government because common sense is not at all common and so we want authoritative and intelligent minds running the system.

But the government, it lays a ring road and lets the road go waste, (tax payers money gone down the drain). The reason, they do not want to go against the wishes of the common men, they would loose their votes.

It pains me to an extant that the words to jump to mind to write all these.

Should not the government come with a strong hand saying at least until the completion of the fly over the buses would ply the ring road? how many ambulances and how many lives could be saved?

But no, they would not want to do that.

Our government is ready to consider a plea by a criminal who dared to attack our parliament and it stays the death penalty to the utter horror of the people expecting and pleading justice and at the same time it yields to the pleads of the common men and kills innumerable waiting in the ambulance.

The vote bank seems to play all important roles here.. the criminal had to be let free for getting his communities vote and the patient dieing in the ambulance is any way not going to vote and so who would care?

The government is becoming such an insipid money laundering machine that it brings on a helmet rule making it compulsory for both the driver and the pillion rider and once it has made sure that every one's got the helmets it relaxes it down. It took one whole day for the government to earn 2.5 crores in the name of fine and then the next day it relaxed the rule and from the third day it was back to normal with no helmets seen on the roads..... this is our government.... @#$%^&&***

A tirade went in my head and then the traffic slowly moved ahead and i moved forward too with the ambulance trailing behind me all the way. All the anger from me slowly got swept in the failure of my incapacity to do anything with my thoughts and i was home in another hours time to go straight to me bed, pick up a novel, skip my dinner and read myself into sleep.

Whom do we blame here, the common sense less men? The unspeakably cheap government? or me?

Life goes on.... and that is why i say, Avoid life, it leads to death.

_____________

Sense of wandering pervades me
A dream too now merely a dream
Sprit of life now deceives me
In the ennui that surrounds and screams.

Of no goal I am now in confidence
Where leads these feet I know not
Apathy surrounds me in my diffidence
Fight I now have to or I will rot.

Rape

Stripped of the decency that covered me
I was bound by the weight of ugliness
Parched throat and burning eyes
Anger swelled but all in vain

Roughness caressed me in obscenity
Perished my soul in pain supreme
How would I dare look on me again
Scarred by vile was every inch of mine

Unknown stranger with primeval glee
Has now left me bleeding in the drain
The temple of body pillaged to gore
My mind too has been raped encore.

Age old glory

Forever, forever, I roam free
In this land ordained for me
With no fear, with no shame
I walk amidst the rubbles
That speak of age old glory.

Well, the land of age old glory is what India has become. A land whose history is unconvincing, the date of origin is non pertaining, and yet claiming possibility for the eldest of civilizations. People tend to run away from analysing our history as there are so many names that repeat and yet carry no distinguishing character leaving events and dates confused. The poets have written many a verses and still one is unable to take them on their word for, they might have written what was needed of them instead of what history needed.
With all the discussions, one still is unable to throw all such history out the window as everything stands on doubt, meaning they could be either way - true or false.
Some staunchly believe in what has been transcribed while some believe in the doubts raised by some others.
With all these confusion, only one thing is certain - the land sure did have a rich culture and civilization. And so, for a moment let us forget the origins and just accept that we had a good rich culture.

And now....
My friend with an assurance new says that he hates Indians as they cheat the most. A taxi driver in Singapore shouts at a man who jay walks on the road - "Bloody Indian" (though the man might have been Chinese), another friend wants to donate money for charity but feels that all the charity organisations in India only make money for the organisers pocket.
And the comments are all what I observed from others, and as to myself - "it is pretty obvious that the politicians are number one enemies and the people working in government offices are so corrupt that they would one day break the back bone of India".

The above thoughts project an image so dark as to suggest that India reeks. Does that mean we have no positives? what about IT? What about service industry?
But heck, did our freedom fighters die to get us the tag of "service industry"?
I did take the meaning too literally there and forgive me for that, but yet....
There recently was an exhibition in Germany of the software industries and the outcome was; India had only 50 stalls, meaning only 50 companies that dared to exhibit there product development capabilities while China and Taiwan were leaps and bounds ahead.
S what industrial revolution are we boasting off?
Our GDP grows fast but so does inflation, do you see much benefit - I don't..
And lets not even get into the culture scenario - people now say that our culture is tending closer to the western culture and it is a long known story that western culture is just a diplomatic way of saying no culture....

So where do we stand? and how?

I cannot bear to stand with my head hanging low and so I go around saying -

Forever, forever, I roam free
In this land ordained for me
With no fear, with no shame
I walk amidst the rubbles
That speak of age old glory.

Hope some day we can add a "Present day" next to the word glory there.

Self Introspection

Was recently chatting with my friend, no not the online Internet chat, but the straight person to person chat. it was about what I write and how I come across through my words. guess I have known it for long, but it still was surprising to hear me being called gloomy from what I write.

I have forever been trying to be the optimistic guy who revels in the thought that come what may, the job will get done, come what hardship may I would sail through with the bare minimum of scratches.

That is what I am(or am I?), and still I heard some one call me gloomy.

So, does Gloominess and optimism go together?... it sounds insane to even put them two in the same sentence. And I always have written what I feel deep down inside.. (forget the attempts of romance in poems.. they were for fun).

All this has left me bemused.

I now pose as a contradiction to myself. Optimistic guy with a stream of gloominess running parallel, and for sure one is the surface and the other the depths of my nature. From what I believe in my writing, it seems that gloominess is what runs and I impose a positivism on top to overcome the gloom. I do not like being gloomy.

If that is true, well I am in some trouble and I got to convert the optimism into real.

But all things go smooth now and all the internal turmoils do not affect life as such. Guess I would soon have to come back to the introspection and get myself sorted out, but I shall wait a little longer.

And somewhere down there, deep in my heart I guess I like the gloominess that resides in me. the gloominess that could tend to become dark and envelope the sanity of my mind with its tentacles. Perverse it seems, but hell, not many around are like that and am sure with the positive outlook that I impose, I shall surely be able to utilise the darkness for something worthwhile....

And yet... could I really do that.....

Yet another article finishing with "yet...." this is turning out into a problem, have to get rid of this and start moving towards more positive and conclusive discussions...... I shall wait for that to happen too....

Greed

The river of blood chimes through
The ravaged lands once so true
The raven alone now watches
The rising sun amidst burning torches.

Evil smiles through the face of the pretty
Ever searing eyes behold this horror gritty
Even self – she saunters along
Evidence sure of a soul pillaged long.

Wink of her eyes – men killed
Will of hers alone they now obeyed
Well of all their desires she was
Wise old men none to point the abyss


Now she admires her power cruel
Never scenic and in this she reviles
Nearer Styx, now this place drifts
No sun shall ever be seen here adrift.
.
Greed is what some call her
Generous is she in this world once dear
Game is she – a contagious one
Guard is she of evil’s own domain.

* Conditions Apply

Wandering in the desert of pain
I reach an oasis - sporting -
"Money for Fame" - a beautiful hoarding.
With a wanton desire, born of boredom
I write my name in the sand grain.

With a whoosh and a whash
The water wriggles in chaotic thrash
And slowly emerges a mermaind plain.
Hands she me then a pot of gold chains,
To my thrill born of egoistic disdain.























Suddenly with the same whoosh and whash
The desert turns into the lucifer's own lair
And shiver run down my body already gone lame.
Tiny letters spring out of the hoarding
A shimmering star followed by
"Conditions Apply"...
"Beware, money for fame but also
Bondage to Devils own whimsical games."

Marriage...

Marriage... how many discussions have happened on this and how many of them remain inconclusive. Guess that is why even the scriptures allowed for different types of marriages (gandharva vivaha and such .. err i don't remember the names).

It is a matter of the hearts - this is something that people commonly accept and there seems to be often not many doubts regarding this. There are voices that say "not just hearts but practicality", however these are few in number. A marriage is loads of trouble concentrated into the few months or preparation that goes in to it. No, don't say no yet.. listen me out completely.

There are predominantly two kinds of marriage happening now (at least in India). The arranged marriage and the love marriage.

The arranged marriage is turning out of fashion - people do not accept the ritual of tieing the knot and then falling in love. there logic goes - how do i marry the person who i do not know? or "Come on! love is spontaneous and when it happens it happens and i cannot walk out of it". There are many more points of view to, but i am only taking a glimpse into the marriage setup here, so we wont go real deep.

The love marriage is in vogue - it gives the youngsters the chance to know the person before they commit for there life (it is a different matter that the life of the marriage is often small compared to the participants thanks to divorce). And well, one cannot talk much of this kind of marriage as this seems to be impulsive and so cannot be often defined with words. at least, that is what the participants say.

Now both of these put across trouble - could be as simple as a misunderstanding between the couple and the parents (love marriage) or the problems between relatives or the event itself where the people involved give way for their ego and go berserk over an insult that happened in the chaotic atmosphere there.

Thus one marriage generally result in a high tension.

These cannot be avoided it seems.

However there is one point that I think about often.

The sentence - "I am the one who is going to get married and only I can have a say - so if i have fallen in love with a person then there should exist no force stopping me"

How fair is this statement?

Assuming we still have the Indian-ness in our culture (a slight bit at least), how is a marriage an individuals event? Agreed the bride and the groom are the main characters.. but how many more are involved? If it was an individual event of personal choice, the event itself should happen as happens a date - with an environment where only the pair is involved and they alone relish the moments. But we don't see that happen, arranged marriage or not, it is generally an extravaganza. The grandeur is often in direct proportion to what the people involved can spend.

Thus the event is turned into a social affair. Then how is one to claim the private personal status the above statement claims?

It is understood that the bride and groom are going to share a very intimate and personal life... but the personal moments are not the only moments of life. So how does one claim the status?

In an Indian scenario (and often in foreign scenarios too) a person after falling in love with one does not generally cut ties with his existing relations. Thus if the better half truly has to be that - the better half, then the better half also has to maintain the same relationships. a compatibility between the all the relations, at lest the important (parents, brothers/sisters) need exist. Else, the marriage would just turn into a nightmare simply because the better half is not compatible with the people your half likes. Ideally speaking it would be like a split personality character with one being comfortable with some people and the other uncomfortable. This would cause a struggle not only between the relations but also between the personalities - simplified - between the couple.

So there exists every chance for a life to get miserable despite the love between the two.

One has to pause here - "if one loves another - then would not all these wrinkles be ironed out?"

Well, but that is a double edged sword and both of them are going to feel the same way with chances for the rift to only widen. even if that does not happen, the statement that i discuss was a statement that came out of a supreme individual consciousness, and in this compromise the individual-ness collapses.... not only between the couples(which is understandable and acceptable) but between the people who are related to the couple too....

So what validity would that statement have?

I do not want to discuss the moral right of a man to go for a love marriage, i only question the sanity of that statement?

And if that statement does not contain the sanity required, then one does have no right to go against all his relatives wishes to marry the one of his choice.

If by any chance one is going to say that his Bond with his pair is divine and true and the most important and thus negates the love of his parents.... what of such a man? A man who is ready to cut the bond of genes and blood and childhood - how long would he sustain the bond that developed by the logic of the mind and the say of the heart alone? With science itself changing its logic often and the saints themselves changing there stances, of what strength is his this new logic of his love?

My logic says that - a man who breaks bond with his parents or compromises there situation and gets there blessing to only find that there blessing was forced and not voluntary for the sake of his logic of the heart - love, can always break the bond with his loved one to for another impulsive understanding that his heart might impound.

And yet.. my logic might change too.... could it not.. after all no logic remains unchanged... and yet.... as of now....

Keeping Busy...

Busy....

Funny how this word creeps up every time one needs to give an excuse. Seems like the whole world is busy. Obviously everyone is doing something or the other even if the something is "Nothing". But does that suggest that all are busy?

The dictionary is certainly in favor of this view, it just says that someone is busy if he is engaged full time in some work. Everything seems to be in order and still there are times you begin itching when someone excuses himself proclaiming busy.

The problem is i have never been busy. I have always been doing one thing or the other... reading, working, playing, watching TV... I have always been doing something, but i have never been busy. Guess that is what makes me itch when i hear the word busy. and this also makes me want to redefine the word.

The dictionary be damned, two people are doing almost the same thing under the same conditions and only one of them is busy. it has to do, not with the meaning of the word then, but the mental orientation of the person doing it.

So that is it. i know it is such a simple reasoning and yet it took me all the words to work that out.

So now i know that, when someone tells me he is too busy to write a mail across or too busy to call... he means, he thinks the work he is doing is more important than the act of mailing or calling. Fair enough, and that often is so .. after all work is completely objective, it sees only success or failure and does not understand the intricacies of the mind, while a person is subjective meaning he would be willing to understand. So one always has to give priority to work.

But then again, how long does one work? certainly not 24 hours.. and well, forget even that.. how long does one spend doing something productive(let that include, eating, sleeping etc)... say 23 hours... certainly not more than that.. and even if, not everyday is going to be like that.....

So how about the one hour... how goes that...

I know it is wrong to talk about that hour.. after all, the gruelling hours of work do push a man to a corner where he wants to relax in solitude.... so i guess that is how one gets to remain busy all day.. the 12 -13 hours a day work and the remaining hours 11-12 hours preparing for the next day.

I am now very clear how the time goes by and one has no time.

And nope, i am not going to ask myself the value of friendship, the time needed to maintain one such relationship and etc.... After all a friendship is subjective.... and given such a daily routine where i am to get only an hour for myself really free.. i too would not be interested in entertaining anyone....

So people actually do get busy.. hmmm... I may not but people do get busy and it is only based on priorities.

Sounds logical... and yet ...

This is what i hate with a didactic approach to a topic... takes you through a cumbersome path and then finally leaves you saying... yet....

Yet... does one on getting "I am busy".. let go of the pursuit?... say a friend is forever a busy, do you say okay.. lets leave him?... would that not kill the friendship... and would that not make friendship objective?

Hmmm.. needs some more thinking....

(Guess all my topics end with the same line.. hope to find the solution to all one day and erase the yet.....)

Perceptions

The first thing that hits me when I think of perceptions is the "Doors of Perceptions" - by Aldus Huxley. A wonderful description of the voyage by a man under the influence of Psychedelics. What is more interesting is the title - "Doors of perceptions".
A drug is mentioned as the door to the world of perceptions. This term 'perception' then necessarily means the identity of worlds that differ by - how do you say that - worlds apart?
hmmm..

A serial killer perceives his act more often than not as art and tries to excel by becoming More and more gruesome. How correct is that statement? 'Coz gruesome is the worlds perception of his acts and is worlds apart from what he perceives - art?.

Thus the quintessential truth for him is a morbid affair for the rest of the world and yet, when a court gives a verdict he is only put in an asylum and not in the gallows.Had another man killed for the sake of killing with the perception being to kill, he will go to the gallows, but when another kills with a perception of cleansing himself or such fantasies, he is sent to the asylum.

Shows how much of a value our society gives the word 'perception'.

And, how could it be otherwise, to us men of the practical world, the truth is only what we perceive it as and no man can be punished for pursuing the truth. This is also the reason why when a man handles a delicate matter in a crowd, he quickly weighs the effect of his action from others perspective and decides on the act that would be perceived to be the least harmful, or even better beneficial.

These bring us to a very interesting question - If perceptions differ, and differ big, and if the perceptions is the truth that a man knows, how many truths exist in this world? If there exists many truths and often contradictory in nature, then how is it the truth? If that is not the truth, then why do people give it the respect due to truth? Or do we all know nothing about the truth and just continue living life the way we perceive it with no care for the concepts of absolute truth? Does the above statement sound stupid?.....

hmmm a Lot more analysis seems required....

Grief

It was a scenario where the mind was not to wander about. a sonorous moment where you mourn for the dead. Yet, a distant relative she was and it was difficult to keep a mournful face. Every moment grew heavier and i was itching to get away. Social manner alone prevented me from doing so.

She was a grand old lady, who had lived her life (hope i could say that - though it ought to be her decision). Wealth of people all around her and even in death surrounded by servants to fulfill her every needs. her husband stood by in a corner in the house, his aging shoulders sagging. She had dies and he was feeling the pain. The sons and daughter in laws were present, tears trickling.
She was in a glass box on ice, preserved for her sister to come for the final rites. The mood was gloomy and even kids who barely understood the scene were quiet and brooding.

I wondered for how long, how long was this silence going to be maintained. After all she was dead and there was no changing that. The pain of the departing certainly present still, the silence was overbearing. Suddenly there was a shriek and her sister came in beating at her breasts and wailing aloud. a kid in the corner shrieked in terror while another slightly older laughed in sheer surprise. The kids mother cautioned them against such behavior and told that, people of the old age grieved so. she also told them that though that sounded funny and unnatural, one ought to forgive them.

And my boredom relaxed lightly, and i wondered - "was that true? did older generation always cry like that? if so was it a custom or was it really their grief coming out that way? i always thought that people of older generation bonded better and the pain of departing was greater and so their cry very vocal?"

Then again I remembered, the same aunty who had cautioned the children - she had wailed louder than any i could remember when my grandpa has passed away. she came running into my house then crying aloud. according to me she had over reacted then and according to her the dead person's sister was overreacting today.
guess hypocrisy apart, when a dear one dies one never knows how one expresses pain and when the same person watches another, it feels unnatural.

I understand that there are no generation gaps when it comes to grieving.
and though some come out of the grief pretty quickly and abruptly (like the girl who stood their crying in silence suddenly became bubbly once the body was taken away), i understood it is wrong to judge a grief from the actions they exhibit.

I have never been good with emotions - but i decide today that i shall not judge other by the way they exhibit theirs.

Vulture's Dilemma

With wings spread wide
Yet the feet planted astride
I scan the ground beneath
Vulture I'am, to prey on dead
Is my job indeed.

Yet i dare not - today
Sweep down the carcass fresh
It smells of man - in evil
He must have had lust.
Such is he - lying alone
Amidst a world of men
Yet shy away from him all
How then shall i alone fly?
Sold he his soul to women's lore
Tryst with theives he made
Killed he friendships many -
A traitor of very bad taste.

After thoughts of a hungry mind
My wings beat in rhythm
I shall die of hunger maybe
And yet better for my life,

Reality Check

Doing a critic on a book is considered difficult and it is awfully true. One begins to ponder on the book one reads and often finds that his concentration while reading is often not enough to do that. However, when it comes down to picking one book over the other, it becomes easy.
Guess that arises out of personal taste, while writing about needs more -you ought to see if your personal taste is really good enough.
Sounds silly? well, maybe it is. But think about it, you have a bestseller on your hands and you are really struggling to complete it. you find it utterly out of taste and yet the whole intellectual world and also the masters of criticism have embraced it. The urban man (or is it now the ubersexual man?) might say i give a damn, my taste alone matters. Sounds good, but then it still nags you - "what in the book made so many like it?"
It is alright to say that "this is me" and period. But, if one is to continue on the path of personal development, one has to think and the problem rises.
Let's take an example -
"The monk who sold the Ferrari" and "The Alchemist"
The latter, i managed to read twice and i still like it, while the former, i just closed it shut halfway through for life yesterday night.
Both are big sellers and the monk got the author of Alchemist saying - " A captivating story that teaches as it delights". But there seems to be the problem, it teaches and as per me, does so more than delighting. Both books talk along a similar premise and both have adopted fiction as the medium. The Alchemist is a fine book because of its subtlety while the monk goes ahead teaching and in doing so bores you with its garrulous explanations on the good of a system while completely forgetting the system. The alchemist does not preach, it just draws a line (guide line) while the monk goes ahead and makes a road, what more, it almost makes the road a one way with thousands of traffic restrictions. Maybe the road does contain all the restrictions and diversions, but then if a book is to titillate the mind, it has to allow the reader to expand on the concepts. Otherwise, it ceases to be a book of literature, fiction (or whatever you want to call it) and becomes a text book and that is the last thing that thinking man wants.

When there are such distinctions and the modern man talking about being so frank still manages to make them both bestsellers, one wonders, how frank we actually are.
Does it then simply mean that people picked up the books and made them bestsellers for that period based on a comparison of the books in the period? Sounds very dishonest, a modern man who says "this is me", "I am Frank", should not be typically doing it.

It seems like i am prattling, maybe, but what i find difficult to understand is - how is it that two books talking the same at such different levels, still be doing so almost equally good. These books do not even have the advantage that movies have... like one could take a real strong movie on prostitution and make it a hit while another could do a sleaze of the same and still rake in the moolah. 'coz there still exists such different target categories. but in books like this, one can rarely except the same....

Am i going wrong somewhere... i don't think so, I guess as ever books are sold more based on the talk on them rather than their actual content. There have been books that have become a major hit and people who have read them twice are still wondering what they read. That is the reality check. People are still in the clutches of fame (direct or indirect) and they just are interested in saying i too read that...

Would this change.. i am sure that it wont, at least not in my life time...

The need to write

So much to say and never found what to do with all of those words in my mind. The sheer inactivity, the inability to use the words put me under a pressure that suffocates me to the edge of life. Though, there it stops, Never pushing me over the edge.

It is like the Damocles sword, hanging right there. Kill me, kill me not... may be it is weighing out the options.

Sure enough though, it has learnt the trick from my own self. It was i who held the words at the tip of the tongue not knowing what to do and now it, in turn waddles me between life and death.

And with this war of patience waging hot, me completely at its mercy, i heard people speaking of blogs, and i thought - "Hmmm, now that seems to be a way out. I could write them words there for people to see.. and maybe then i would suffocate less".

So here goes... my blog, my words that shall slay the evil trying to suffocate me - hopefully.