Quicksand!

" My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.

I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream. "

- Dylan Thomas

When your mind is overcome by your heart, your thoughts become a shaky edifice. It shakes so bad that you reach a point where you want calamity to cut loose and consume your beliefs - ending everything. A sincere soul lays wait for its mortal end when it knows there could be a billion butterflies beautifying the scenes of the other life. A life where you would want to live with the best of your memories captured from your dead past. Immortality is only sweet, because you enter it through the gates of your death, walking over your own funeral pyre.

Getting sucked into that void, the quicksand of thoughts, where humane will fails and babels of imagination crumble - is painful. But one must destroy that pot of rotten old ideas that had defined one's being so far, breaking dogmas and set conventions, opening up to the newness that is life, a life free from the perils of mechanization. Because mechanization begets boredom that starves and murders love. 

So where do I rest my thoughts? Do I allow them to fall down and become broken pieces? Or do I metamorphose? There is confusion and trouble within. Then vaguely comes clarity after much delay. Then the smile. So - metamorphose - I choose to go with. Into a being that never stops to grow and be impressive. But straightforward in its simplicity and kindness. Not to give in to high-mindedness, yet to stand apart in humility. To rebel, to rage, to fight and to die. For the weak, the loved ones, the poor and the dejected. 

Why don't we go to the shore, get into the waters, stand still and allow the waves to roar over us and caress our thoughts? Why don't we just allow love and other beautiful things to rule our lives! Why. Don't. We.

Bean, Butterflies And One Long Banana!

I can see your mind dancing with an YAY sound. Oh no, stop it! It reverberates. Yay. Yay. Yay. And one final very long irritating yay. Would you stop doing that!, I shout again. But you wouldn't listen. Since when have you become such pervert! - I want to know. Pull your thoughts up from the dregs. It is just a story. A story with three different species, yes of course with one human in it. Do you not worry - I shall definitely take your thoughts down to the muck. The muck that you always love to sniff and smell. But wait, don't do it all by yourself. Let me teach you how to do it, so you do it well.

The guess is right. Bean is the human. Oh yes, the same Bean from the Pogo Channel. He, duly, is the hero of this read. Mister Bean. 'Duly', really? Hey hey, can't jokers be heroes at least once! C'mon, be fair. You cannot just laugh them away all the time. They're important as well. Very important, particularly for this read. Tune your mind and say, Mister Bean the hero! Ah good, that's how you say. MISTER BEAN THE HERO!! See, I made you say; so now - its my turn to yay.

Back to the story. This happened in a forest few days back. A dark forest. A forest where there was no one. An empty dull forest. And Bean went in to say hi to the Banana. Yes. The One Long Banana. They said - there was no other banana like this. Because the color of this was black. Pitch black. The other day, this came even in the news telecast. The papers read that there was just one such banana in the whole world. Right away, Mr Obama announced in the Congress that the United States need to send in the SEAL squad to rescue the banana from the banality of the forest. He wanted the banana to remain fresh all the time. So it was decided that the NASA would provide all the technical support and Nolan's producers would fund the project.

Lo and behold, Mister Bean reached there before the SEAL. And lo lo and behold, the banana - the One Long Banana - was lying dead and wasted on the ground. Surprisingly, butterflies were swarming around the fallen rotting banana. Not the bees. The butterflies were beautiful, unlike the special banana which was pitch black. They were in multiple colors. Blue, green, red and some more weird mix. The Bean who went to say hi and eat the banana, changed his mind. He wanted to catch one of those butterflies.

So he ran after them. Ran so hard. The thing with the butterflies is that if you go near them, they would just fly away. And the fun run started. The scene was so amazing to watch. Bean and the butterflies. Just one Bean and so many butterflies. And the running behind. But he couldn't even catch one. Every trick was failing. When he ran back, he stepped on that rotting One Long Banana, fell and broke his nose.

Mister Bean with a bleeding nose. He was lying down. He and the One Long Banana next to him. He looked at the banana like a husband would look at his wife wanting more. I shouted at him - 'You idiot Bean change your expression!' Now he knew what to do. He took the banana, peeled its pitch black cover and held the lump in his mouth - with the major chunk projecting out.

The trick worked. The butterflies that were scattered came one after the other and sat on the banana. Bean went ecstatic, but was in control. He wanted more. More. More. More. He closed his eyes. Opened. Some more, he said to himself. More. More. More. Now, there were a hundred butterflies sitting on the One Long Banana which was sitting on Mister Bean's mouth. Swiftly, the idiot pulled both of his hands and tried to catch few butterflies. He did catch a few. They were in the palm of his hands tightly held. He was so happy. But lo - when he opened, all were crushed and dead.

Moral of the story, if you want to eat bananas don't run after butterflies. Most of us start sprinting and half-way down the track we want to jump into the waters and try swimming. Hopelessly funny, some of our interests are! However confusingly complicated our lives sometimes can become, in the course of pursuing our interests - let us not cause harm to others at any point in time.

Peace. Be happy.

In Honour Of All Women!

I am a man and I respect women. All of them - right from who you spitefully call a prostitute to the one who is praised as an angel. Yes, I respect them. Friend or not so friendly - I respect them. Moody or free and jovial - I respect them. Quiet or talkative - I respect them. Attractive or not attractive - I respect them. I have never been into a love affair with anyone all my life. But that has never stopped me from quietly observing them and taking note of the beauty that emerges out of the complexity of their nature. They are exquisitely beautiful - everyone of them.

Some lose their temper fast, some have a bad ego, some appear cranky at some point, some are overly sophisticated, some don't like men at all and some think they are always right. So what? Let them be. Aren't outbursts quite natural even with you? I have always believed that there are reasons behind how one reacts, even though the way they react may not appear to be so nice. Because you would be astounded yourself to find that deep down - they could all be so loving and kind. If you still allow yourself to be carried away by a few bad encounters you might have had in the past and continue treating all women like scum, there cannot be a man as wretched as you. Truly, you have to open your eyes to see the many that are always smiling, the ones that are serene and believe in peace and the quiet, the genuine lot that are sincere with their words and would do anything for love, the pure-hearted that are incapable of duality and masking their intentions, the kind ones that are quick at lending a helping hand and those that are faithful.

The bias that clouds our judgments needs to disappear; or we would only complain and frown all the time. Few idiots get into relationships with a set intention to say goodbye after they lose taste. There are some who call off weddings in the last minute (citing silly reasons that do not even remotely relate to adultery) and live their shameless lives as though nothing ever happened. There are also a vulgar few who get married and then look out for other flesh. I sincerely hope they make a law to emasculate such men in the public. 

A real incident. The story of a very kind woman who was married for over 25 years. The husband called off the marriage - because, at fifty, he gave in to lust and wanted young flesh. After the divorce notice was sent, word spread and everyone around got to know. They were all very supportive of her. Her brothers took her to their place. They made plans. Plans to kill the rascal who ditched the wife of his youth. But oh dear, you should have seen the way she screamed at them with tears flooding down her cheek. 'Don't you dare even think of doing such heinous nonsense, he is my husband!' were the words - stressing on the 'MY'. I was there. Shocked. To say such things even after being cheated and left stranded alone - could by all means be only one thing. Divine. My eyes almost watered listening to those words. She still lives with a hope that her husband would one day change and return to her.

To truly understand the heart of a woman, you should talk to your mother. I sincerely wish every man be taught to cultivate the habit of being kind to all women. Kind to them, irrespective of whatever lifestyle they might lead. They deserve respect. Sincere respect. For just being who they are. For just being. WOMEN.

Decadence!

The most cruel of all despotisms rests in the oscillating state of our mind between what we believe to be good and bad. For our mind can inflict such nasty duress if we are caught at fault by our own measure of morality. Some have become total lunatics walking nude on the roads as madmen and some have ended their lives committing suicide - not been able to overcome the pressure.

While there is a general belief that morality is a totally relative measure, there ought to be a basic objective sense to it. For I am a firm believer of the beautiful blend that subjectivity and objectivity can generate. Such a thing is necessary for the world to truly progress. For - if there is no practical referendum, we would run into unwanted issues. Because the offenders would easily find an escape by presenting their suggestively bohemian tendencies - as their sweet intellectual excuse.

You would be baffled to listen to few of the stories that float in the city because of the yo-yo IT lifestyle. Hear it firsthand, it would be even more disconcerting. Debauchery is on the rise. The orgies of the mind tarnish the purity of thought. People are willing to experiment before any serious commitment and there are provisions to try out what is fantasized in the private. The moral decay has reached a point where we have learnt to say chills and okays to detestable acts of uncontrolled passion. May be we have gotten used to so much perversion that our minds have struck a sorry compromise - only to enable more decay.

Whatever be it, surprisingly goodness has still not reached its expiry. I was really ecstatic knowing how Mr.Satyarthi made us all proud last week. Trust me, there are so many nice people living their silent and modest lives - adding beauty to this world. We see simple deeds of kindness bringing smiles to the hearts of many. There is a group in Bangalore - that works to rescue girls taken into flesh trade. You should listen to the brave stories of those young girls and the way they were rescued. I know of a man who shared a note with me which reads as follows.

Dear Men.
Every woman deserves to be loved, not to be lusted after. Love doesn't mean that you need to straightaway try getting into relationships with every woman you see and that, it should end in biting each others lips and dirtying your bed. Do not add blemish to the repute of the real men the world still houses. There ought to be a basic sense of respect we need to show towards all women. Talk, do not flirt. Joke, do not hurt. Compliment, do not fantasize. Correct, do not judge. Help, do not make them indulge later. Be considerate. Be good. Be a man. Not just to those you know. But to everyone.

Dear Women.

Think not - that every man is after your private parts. That wearing skimpy dresses would impress all men - more than sexually. But be sure that almost all men would fail the test of bed. So, be mindful of your steps. If there be an ugly past, do not allow yourself to be taunted by it. Let not your initial defloration provoke you to more promiscuity. Forgive yourself. Do not repeat the mistakes of your past. Be wise. Be happy.

They say, compassion is the basis of morality. So, let us love. Let us not dwell in the past and accuse, but forgive. Comfort. Console. Spread smiles. Feed the hungry. Light lives. Accept everyone into our fold with open arms. How else could we wage war against decadence which needs to be defeated and burnt to ashes! Let us fight. Fight, till we die that valiant death.

All The Small Thrills!

I am a peaceful person but that does not discount troubles in life. Last week, I was threatened by a man who claimed to have been to jail five times. One thing led to the other; and another; and finally I was caught in a situation where I was alone with him and his associate for a good four hours in the dead of the night. I asked him why he had been jailed five times. All the reasons he gave me were political in nature. He had not killed anyone or bombed a building or molested a child or raped a girl. But he derived his happiness from the fact that he had just led the life of a prisoner once upon a time. Basically he thought, that could scare everyone and that - that gave him a revered image in the society. While I shall restrain from disclosing what led me to these people and the rest of the story, I have to tell you that we departed on a good note exchanging smiles and hand-shakes.

Speaking of hand-shakes, I remember a weird incident during one of my bus travels from Palaghat to Coimbatore few years back. There was this gentleman seated next to me. He seemed to be a well-mannered person, spoke impeccable English and started the conversation with a good hand-shake. I had thick beard then - with the usual villainous grin. He said that he was a weapon dealer and asked me if I wanted weapons. I instantly knew that he mistook me for someone else, but I continued talking. We discussed about all the latest bombs and guns available locally. Not to make him feel bad - I asked for his number, told him that I would give him a call if I find need and got down at the Ukkadam bus stand.

Ukkadam bus stand. Sparks in me a different memory altogether. My brother's new bike was stolen by a rival gang. We were searching the bike in every nook and corner of the city. Next to Ukkadam, there was a place where stolen bikes were dismantled and the parts sold at a very cheap rate. The place - as expected - was very spooky, with all the ill-mannered people there. I picked up a very bad fight with those men and got thoroughly beaten up. That was when I realised - the shaktimaans and the superheroes were only TV characters.

Getting beaten up. It surely teaches you more than a few fighting lessons you pick from such experiences. It definitely smoothens your social behavior. Helps you keep your calm and know when to time your rage so the opponent is totally decimated. I was beaten up two other times by the RSS men, received serious threat calls thrice; and there was a group that sought to kill me with knives and I made a miraculous escape. I prefer to keep the reasons behind these - forever in the dark.

The dark. It was one in the night. We were walking. My friend and I. We heard a woman's cry and proceeded in that direction. Saw a drunken man mercilessly beating the woman and her small kid. We looked at each other and plunged into action. Beat that guy properly till he fell on the ground and could not get up. The woman was crying even more loud. She spoke in Kannada. Said - the man was her husband.

Husbands and wives. Have you ever seen wives pumping up their husbands and instigating them for a fight? This happened in Madiwala over a silly vehicle parking squabble. Close to ten men from their houses in the street came out - with their women howling at us asking their men to beat us. Just four of us. After a few punches and kicks, we somehow made peace and left for Nandi Hills.

I can go on and on. But before I start boring you, I shall stop here. You might laugh at these or you might feel what stupid of a guy I really am. Or you could have faced fascinatingly better thrilling situations. However be it, these things help us understand and appreciate our world better. Though you might choose to disagree with me because you feel that there is some degree of danger associated with each of such incidents, these - I feel - are absolutely necessary to make the person who we really are and to truly acknowledge that the world we live in - is perfectly lovely and amazing!

Why is the world round?

I am generally not a bull-shitter. But this time - absolutely could not help it. Had to write this. Because all my prayers to fall asleep at least before three in the night are never heard almost every single day round the year. So I thought. The rascal in me set the neurons in my silly brain into that stormy rebellious motion. A simple rage. An easy question. Why is the world round? 

But no answer. Well, certain things have no answer is what we have been told. Or so we were made to believe - right from when we were kids. The beginning of each of our times. Would that stop us from thinking the things that we, by societal dictum, are banned from thinking? Nay, a hell capital NO is the word. The right word. So, back to the question. Why is this world round?

This had not stricken me as hard as this. I know what you're thinking. No, you don't have to stress your mind in that wrong judgmental angle. Oh yes, I perfectly understand. Your next question is - Dude, what happened to you and what is wrong with you? I can sniff that dirty trail of your thoughts. But no dear, I don't drink or smoke or do drugs. Girl(s)? No time for that! Oh, guys then? No thanks, I am straight. Sincerely straight. Oh got it. Are you in love? Well, who in this big round world is not? May be there lies the answer. But dear, infesting your thoughts with love - to find an answer to a pressing scientific question - is definitely not the right move. It would only lead to much confusion. Tell me - why is the world round?

Now the converse view. Had the world been flat, would it have created the scenic beauty and the evergreen imagery that we romantically call - nature - for our hearts to joyously revel in? The mountains, the rivers, the dry land, the forests, wild life and the oceans duly reveal that there is no fun in the world being just flat. But why? Is flat the correct opposite of round? - that the connections we make here and the reasons we build - suffice to quench the question that burns my sleep away. Why really is this world round?

In Solidarity With The Gazans

It was a long time ago. The time when the supposedly civilized men of the world fought the ever-ridiculous First World War which took the lives of countless many. Bombs fell everywhere. Little children, women and men fell dead. Heaps of dead bodies. Blood. Bitter wailing. Barbarism. Somehow, then, came the eleventh of November, nineteen eighteen. Had Germany not faced trouble with its own revolutionaries, the war would have continued a few more weeks leading to a few more million deaths. The story did not end there.

The Brits took away the southern part of Ottoman Syria and called it 'The British Mandate of Palestine'. But they were unable to curtail the ever-bursting conflict within the region. It was then the MacMahon-Hussein Correspondence was devised in favor of an Arab Independence - provided the Arabs fought the Ottoman rebels. In parallel - was signed the secretive Asia Minor Agreement. The Arabs did not understand the deception. Result, the people of Mandatory Palestine who craved for freedom and a peaceful living were duly betrayed.

The Balfour Declaration was then announced. This added to the confusion. Had they read even the slightest hint of the deception, they would not have allowed themselves the embarrassment of a British Civil Administration starting from 1920. The Arabs were good people. The war had just concluded. The confusedly religious Ottoman state had not done any good to them. All that religion could do was to leave them with bruises. Their eyes searched for hope and just that. They were waiting for good days to come. 

The Yishuvs were, then, a feeble minority. Only 25,000+ of them. The Brits, as always, were ever cunning. To destabilize the Arab Pro-Independence wave and to further their interests in the most acceptable way possible, they accelerated the Jewish migration. Then came Zionism that forwarded the outrageous notion that a Jewish homeland be created within The British Mandate of Palestine. The increasing Yishuv population were majorly Zionists. Now there were over 600,000 of them. And the conflict started.

We know the rest of the story. The State of Israel was formed in the land the Arabs had been living generations after generations. The MacMahon-Hussein Correspondence, they finally knew, was farce. Their hopes were heavily mocked. Since then it had only been humiliation every single day. They were given a small strip of land to live. The Gaza strip. Hence the name, the Gazans.

There are arguments made in favor of the Jews. We see news articles about the social work Israelis sometimes do in the Gazan camp, asserting to us that the Hamas are the real villains and the Jews, the angels. There are also other 'scholarly' readings that state that the Gazans - if they be in power - would never have done such high humanitarian work. How comical can our news articles glibly get - to prove the unrighteous right and the deprived wrong! Whatever be it, nothing can erase the fact that the Gazans had been betrayed the freedom they very much deserved.

Yes, the Jews did suffer a lot under Hitler's regime. But that doesn't sound reason enough to displace close to a million people from their homes to make space for the Jews. What the Gazans are going through now is worse than the holocaust days of the past. If it is right for Netanyahu to arrogantly state that he would not accept any ceasefire even if he faced international pressure, how is it possibly wrong for a common man to resort to arms when he sees his child bleeding to death? I stand in solidarity with every Gazan fighting - with arms or without.

Over this issue, the Christians and the Muslims exchange hateful words - to this day. The bitterness centers around the fact that the Muslims hate the Jews and the Christians would not dare speak against them. It stems from the generalized belief that the One they worship is still the God of (present-day) Israel. Few Christian TV channels frivolously speak of how few rockets launched from the Gaza strip deviated from their directions, not hurting the Israeli camp - praising God for that. How badly would God mock at your dubious divinity and the verily sanctimonious outlook! When news channels show Gazan kids dying in large numbers, they complain that the media coverage is favoring the Palestine and take pride in the amateur weaponry of the Hamas - producing ungodly explanations to exalt God who is love. He would certainly detest all these exaltation! Not one word against the Jews, because they are God's people, your minds sometimes warn. How ridiculous! Aren't you supposed to love? Love immeasurably? And, aren't the Gazans also created in the image of God? Why don't you stop tying religion into this and support the ones who are truly victimized and are at loss?

The intent of the theme called the pan-Islamic brotherhood, though progressive, have lately faced a lot of criticism because of the fruits it has produced. In the Kashmir valley that is sinking now, hundreds of Muslims turned up few months back to protest against what is happening in Gaza, but they cut loose and like mad men - randomly threw stones at whatever they thought was owned by the Indian Government. What pathetic relation their derisive religious minds had made! You do not like something happening in the middle east, and you damage your nation's property! Why don't you set fire on yourselves!!

We have to understand the fact that the world cannot be run on a religious agenda. The outcome of such attitude would only bring about chaos and produce a failed state. Dawn would one day enchant our eyes with its lovely rays when people grow in their thoughts to comprehend that God is beyond religion. Let us dream of a world where wounds are healed; where broken cords of love are mended; and where peaceful co-existence is still a rich possibility. May our dreams come true, I pray!