The juicy meat above

withholds the fibres of memories.

of being held above the window

beneath the pink sky

above the thatched huts,

like the floating fleece.

Hard grounds, a broken nose,

And scared knees marked my growth.

Pheripherally loved,

Periodically loathed,

Befriended during junkets,

Appointed in haste

Left as an afterthought

The above i foresee.

Accustomed i am to my ways

Though these change.

i mark these fibres

with a cut for every measured time 

and  wander along, carrying them.

Laying them near the shore

Only to be washed away

And gather them again.

I was talking about this, rather i have talked a few many times than it should have been thought or spoken about. It is about my light purple couch and me. We have a love and hate relationship. I sit on it in the evenings when i am back and i blame it for the inactivity in the last evening. It is simply an endless cycle...like everything else.

Life is a cluster of infatuations, and the couch at the moment is one, and i am simply not yet satiated.

I come here in the evenings, and perform the daily web, carbon emitting rituals, by searching google for the world smallest economy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niue) and pitying my account balance at the same time. I dream of myself (at times ) of being the poster boy of my family (for which one has to be a optimal hypocrite no matter what your background is ) and at times breaking every norm set (for which one has to be a optimal hypocrite no matter who you are ). It is completely incredible that one says that one is driven by his own passions and commitments when most of them are set by the times that one lives in. Every motion, stinging nose hairs, sweating eyelids are simply grains filling up the remaining time. They are controlled by precisely randomly timed infatuations of animated beings.

If everything is so pointless, then just make it more 'cheerful pointless'. Back to the couch.

I have moved into my new home two months ago. It is a place for me, it can be made warm and can be kept damp and cold. The way i want it to. I have three plants. They are all green inspite of the biting cold outside. Additionally there are two racks, wooden. They have a dark brownish tinge to them. They hold my few possesions: books, keys, files and folders. All my possesions rise in signifance and gleam their importance from time to time. My bed is white with a white linen and is creased with white stripes. I have two persian carpets, i love them. All in all, i look forward every evening to meet them. They are my first possesions, modest ones or not.  To remind me of home a linen on the wall hangs with elephants lightly embedded in fading colours .

The balcony at my place to its side oversees a river which has a grey bridge over it. The waters flow, lest they be frozen. Every morning a silver layer of mist awakes from the river and kisses the withered plants so as to remind them of the oncoming spring, though the same might be a bit far away in time. 

The last five minutes

If I had five minutes
With no one around
Nothing to worry
No work , Nothing to do…

I would clean my place
in the first minute
Smoke in the next
looking at the sky
and maybe smile...

With the third,
I shall halve it into two.
One for my friends
And the other for strangers.
For both are alike,
halved as the minute,
as the known
and yet to be known

Thirty seconds will pass by,
alike the years of youth.
And another equal measure
to mourn the passing

With the last two
I shall lay and close my eyes.
In these moments behind the lids,
eons march through …

Not a random thought

One can react only if one chooses to, but when one from the time of existence is exposed to reactions of people to discrete situations; then this one adapts to those reactions.

Example could be death. Though it is known heuristically that all die, one reacts with sadness to the same, and if one does not, the next level is absolute mystery that eventually has further adapted to anger or diappointment (read reactions) over any conceived absence of reactions or the conceived less proportionality of the same.

The choice of anything is governed by its consequence. This consequence can again be made a 'choice' by selecting the reaction to the above governing consequence.

One has choices leading to consequences which are nothing but choices again. Perceived consequences are results of constraints called as rules. But rules themselves are collective choices made over a certain period of time.

And further even if we accept a choice based on consequences, then it is done only to lead further favorable choices. Here favorable is subjective.

Deutschland!

Germany has killed my imagination, with its rows of cars, with its rows of stacked cars, with its rows of parallel parked cars...
Reading the sentence above, you could guess that i do not have much imagination left  in me now,neverthless i write...
This is a beautiful place, the heaven of engineering that was branded as the sick man of Europe.
The bearer of European torch and bearing still the stain of Nazism in its inner collars.
I am here for the past 8 months and i have seen some places in Europe. What bothers me is that i saw these places but I only saw them. The moment i arrived , i got the picture of a sci-fi movie where everybody was eaten by zombies. There were facilities, transport, cars and trees. Only two things were missing: Garbage and people.
Later i came to know Germans ship their garbage away, but i am yet to find out what happened to the people.
There is a sense of coldness in here, in the weather and in the ground
The weather is awful though except during a few months in a year.
As i came into my university, the atmosphere simply seemed to be an extension of the above, and there were no gates, literally and figuratively.
This is  how I feel and is my perspective. 
Trains run to the minute, supermarkets are full, and it is 'the place' for meadows, lawns and to breathe. But there is this chaos missing, it seems to have been closed in this huge closet with engineered locks, emotions locked into beer like the fuzz in the beer(only with the opener missing,.... like forever).

One thing is for sure, i am not facing a integration crisis, as i simply know people in numbers and quality that i am usually used to, and i am also happy that i am not stuck up with my old-buddies. It is not the point of stating this situation as a duality and clinically coming into an inference whether i am feeling black or white here (read not skin color).  Though the post may incline you towards stating the same as a rambe (which it is ).. this what i see with my optically corrected glasses....

There is here the sense of detachment i really wanted, do i want to be here? i do not know...

Time: you lost it now, now, now...

Time is absolute,it does not fish in flowing waters alike our moods. It does not love you or hate, it dies when born and incarnates the very second, it is stupid to think about time as you loose it when you think, no action can be important "at a time", as nothing is important to time than itself, it neither awes at your actions nor does it stifle your ambitions. Time is indivisible, it exists in its entirity, even as you name it, write it, say it, it dies and is reborn. Even if you conquer it, you lose what you simply gained; time!

You read the above, you lost it, you did not, you still loose it.

My Staccato

I sway as i type to this rhythm
I close and sway my eyelids along
I dream with my eyes open
Lest I miss reality

I do not feel the seconds passing by
I don't feel the burning beat in my heart
I do not feel the heat in my skin
I see my past,
for i know not any other
it has been a dream
What was it about?
How did it become?
Why i see it as a dream i know not,
But it has been what it has
So be it.

I feel cocaine retreating
I feel liquor flowing
I feel the fumes enabling me to breathe
doors close and open
Windows move on, they rest not
So be it.

I want to make a void and live aplenty there.
I want to write on no one
I savour not time
I do not count moments by time
I count them with me
So i will.

YOU were not there before
YOU will not be after
This is your chance for you to be YOU
Take it or surrender
So you shall.

Why Should you be Greedy?

The world will not have skyscrapers if it was founded and run on the principles of Buddha
You and i cannot post on the internet if all of us would have sat behind the forests and meditated of inner peace. We would have not advanced this far if we concentrated on the only desire to limit the same...We would have been marred in innumerable crosses if we wnet by jesus and ofcourse gandhi was shot for his shortcomings...and so was Martin Luther King!

Who proposes this morality of self-containment and satisfaction and who follows it.

The best improvement of the society can only come when the induvidual recognises the need for it and does not wait for communism, democracy to take the reigns and lead him to better life, nobody can do the best for you than yourselves, one man's faults can be the perfect action for the others, the hour has arisen to recognise the induvidual and the the induvidual has to recognise himself as the highest important being and NOT HIS DESIRES, by this i mean his sole strength must not be towards temporal gains and fleeting prestige but to make a epitome perfection of model himself and worship the same, in short your ambition must be your GOD and you must work towards it, this will negate the ill attitudes too, the upliftment or the instant destruction of the induidual will directly depend on his ideas and therefore he cannot blame anybody, he cannot say reservations, he cannot say caste, this might be utopia??? and you thought to be selfish is easy? ah!...



GREED cannot have a negative connotation if you have the ability and will to work towards the greed to make it a reality...

duh

When you are true to yourselves, it will be difficult, but it will be a life and not hypocrisy.

We are in a country where the poor is pitied, we are in a country where the oppressed is asked to raise his voice, we are in a country that secures seats even before the he person for whom the seat will belong to is unborn! We are in a country that had socialistic ventures till 1976 and the hypocrisy was whitewashed by the emergencies of 1976 and where the term “Socialist” was added.

Our society is not guilty of anything as a whole, it collects and pounds filth of guilt in some pockets and chokes them. It diffuses guilt when you are rich, when your family had a decent living a few years ago, when you are intelligent and deserving in the family. We feel that society is a line of skewed socialistic drums. Granted that the intention is as noble as the word ‘noble’ can get, but the ways and means that you take to achieve are skewed beyond recognition of this nobility, benchmarked…

Wake up in the mornings and i get to see the ceiling, i want to find it changed...and then i go behind the sheets and through the weaver's hole i again look through...i need to find a change in the ceiling...i want water to drip and wake me up every morning, i want the paint to peel with my months and years...alas it stays new and sometimes novel but yet it is not changing...i am becoming afraid of getting stuck...it is fun to catch a bullet when you are running...when you are not static...it might just miss you...

My Colored Glass

I see what is there
Beyond the smiles
Beyond the curved corners
behind the hedgestone

I see want i want
Snow fields and wasted twigs
Pine trees withered
She sipping wine

I see what i saw
Beetles, peacocks and cranes
Agony tree and washer's stone
The one legged bitch

This is my colored glass
I wear it all day
Wear it all night behind my pillow

The Premonitions

It is like a drowsiness that consumes you…enters from the air of doubt that prevents you from trying out new things and if you do the same frightens you of the consequence, I feel like using expletives here but then I think I will remain ‘civil’ as long as possible. I have plans, I have love, I have spleens and yes I have confidence, just one to take care of three things…I am failing many times now, I have never had these bullies around me, I feel like I am being pushed around by MYSELF, and I feel nobody is really responsible for what is going around me, and if it is supposed to be the omnipotent omnipresent God than I will kick him in his ass, I am sick of fate, destiny and karma, those are for people who have loads of money and they feel like they are not still happy or content that is because they never will be, you should be not content, you must direct your unsatisfaction and greed into ways that will actually benefit you, are those karmic superstitious yogis hearing???? I do not know, I might fail, I might fall so low that I am not going to get up or I will rise and belt the ass of all those apathetic bodies who cannot think or I might just have no one around me. Now, at this moment I do not give a rat’s ass to anything, anything that I loose or gain is again in my control but at this moment I do not care, I want to be with myself, I simply do not care, people can wait till I come out of this or they can just take their train, I will not lend money to home, I will spend more on my phone bills, I will feel miserable and will not shed a tear, I will smoke and I will drink and I will be the pink unicorn one day. In the end everybody wants something from you, else they want you. I am sick of this, yes maybe I am immature so what I will grow at my own pace, maybe I am idealistic. At the moment I feel like summoning the delusions of a guardian angel and belting her so severe so that the angel runs away so that I am my guide…

Go Back...

Walking out of the womb,
Clutching the cord of curiousity,
He takes his first step.
Unsupported, Unwithered of yesterday's innocence,
He takes his first step.
Not knowing the causes
Not knowing the consequences

In his own microcosm, he lives...
The others do not matter.
their loss and their wins,
are theirs, not his.
Never shed a tear or smile,
Not knowing the causes
Not knowing the consequences

What can change him?
Fear, Love, Defeat, coercion?
Why should he be changed?
So that it benefits you?
Benefits your kind?
Why do you perceive else?
So that you recline?
So that you are rewarded?
So that you are dead?

Go back to your farms,
Go back to your sickles.
Go back to your factories,
Go back to your Machines.
Go back to your houses,
Go back to your wives.

Go back, as He is long gone,
He remains no more.
He went when you were busy
He was standing beside you
He wanted to meet you, talk to you
He wanted to cry and say that he is no large
As you are is He, He was no master.

Go back He is long gone
He was other's delusion.
He varied in another's dreams.
He long went, into the last hedge that burnt,
Into the last dry well that was buried.
He remains no more.

Go back to your fields.
Go back to your factories.
Go back to your homes.
Go back!

Just Be.

I walk on the water
towards the horizon.
I seek to melt and become one with you.
I seek to fly alike the flamingos.

Fly alike the flamingos,
wrapped in their pink underneath.
i look the silvery streaks
on the water beneath.

I walk on the water
to see myself with the flamingos.
I bath in the flame of horizon
wrapped under the flamingos.

I seek horizon,
where sky and earth ends to itself,
never to rise,
never to fall,
only to exist...

I fly with the flamingos,
I walk on the water ,
To find this horizon.
where, the skies cease to fall,
the earth ceases to rise,
Are in a ease to be...
Just be.

Digital Delusions

He sits in the chair partly incapacitated due to his age. I can imagine him sitting at his balcony and picturing the birds and the very few people meandering through the roads below as purposeful. He is not sure of his digital camera...but then he just knew that ways of buying and selling were the same and hence he bought it..his veins know the slight pain and clot they have to adhere along to help him take it near to his eyes...He sits in a cold chair heated by the heaters...he sits along the balcony...maybe a little behind and more ahead. I cannot see him and i haven't but i would certainly like to.

After clicking the pictures he places the camera and looks into the shots taken. He has shot many times...he had shot at flying birds like he was doing now and he did not like taking pictures of people...he never shot at people as he had done that many times...
The air gains weight with its numbness and a cold more colder seeps around him. He is used to that...There is not much of a sun shining, just enough to give hope. He might be a bit numb to hope by now.

Yes he is the old man, the left overs of mighty ruins. He is a soldier of his leader alike to the footmen of Ozymandias.
He is someone who walked the long miles in frost and of Frost.
He is someone with a metal plate in his head.

The delusions of WW1 and WW2 are with him now...they had been submerged and dissolved in the ever running moments of time, experience and people. They submerged in the peace after, in the economy after, in the comforts after. But they always came up when there was silence, and silence is eternal...it is the foundation...a necessity for any sound to exist.

Silence identifies Sound.

And now when that silence resurfaces...he is in many delusions as there are noises and images in his head. Only for his head.
And just like wines get better under earth, silence becomes cancerous under head. Imaginations get skewed, many colored glasses gain priority...and when he finds a head without a metal plate, a head with out inorganic screws, a head without delusions, he pukes...
He pukes it to the very earth that gave him, to the very nation that grew him up amongst the snow, shine and beer.
His eyes become clear. He takes his camera and he shoots at the birds again and he is not unhappy.
He sees the bird once more as it still stands and hasn't been fell...the wrinkles adjust enough for a smile on his face
He looks at his camera...he does not have to load the trigger...it was automatic...
Maybe he fears of the coming years...but he is imprisoned and more safe than any birds in his own delusions...
And when he has more of them...he just pukes

He pukes in Bavaria, Germany

Some Pictures of the trip described below

With no intention to arrive

March 24
6:30 am

Alarm rings, and with contempt I snooze it off …only to be woken up by Gaurav, my room mate (who henceforth shall be G). We together work 24 hours a day…him during the nights and I during the day (hmm mid-mornings maybe)…An Impulsive thought: This will not be just another day…after having been an agony uncle and ‘in agony’ for sometime I decided to tear up my daily routine or any routine I had for the ensuing weekend. Yup, a trip, to run away from the honking and bonking cars, chattering keyboards and my mouse which clicks alike dripping water… With these thoughts blipping in the first few seconds after my sleep and forty winks, my day began at 10:30 am.

The Plan, The Strategy, Ya-da, Ya-da…

For the next 90 minutes G and I went around as recruiting troopers in our living quarters but to no avail…they simply were not infected by our enthusiasm. In the end we met one Mr. I-tell-you-where-you-can-go who told us about places surrounding Bangalore namely the Coorg district, Chickmagalore district and of course: Mysore, its surrounding areas.

A skim and glance look-up on the internet told us that Chickmagalore would be a more viable option and we narrowed down on the places in that district. Chickmagalur is a supposedly called a calm and serene town…the latter adjective, ahem I am skeptical about it. Chickmagalur district is a coffee plantation site in the State of Karnataka, India. It is located at 1900 meters (approx) above the sea level and the district encompasses some of the beautiful temples built at the time of the Hoysala Dynasty that ruled South India in 16th C.

The places we chalked in our ‘Desire’ map were Kudremukh (an iron ore deposit), Bhadra Wild-life sanctuary, Kemmengundi (hill town), Sringeri (pilgrimage). The only information in possession: Chickmagalur is 247 kms from Bangalore (Capital, State of Karnataka…the Silicon Valley, Pub City and Traffic Ravine of India).

3:45 pm approx

After having a terrible Chinese lunch, G and I took the auto to the noisy Majestic Bus Depot and had a phantom thought that empty places would haunt us instead of buses (to Chickmagalur).




Yes! There are buses every one hour to Chickmagalur from Bangalore!

With an optimized budget in our hands we got into our seats. My broken Kannada saw us the way through in getting the required tickets and also know from a passenger nearby that it would take us 6 hours to reach there! Well since there was not much to see in the town of Chickmagalore, we had to go some place elsewhere. And now that it would be night by the time we reach we decided to stay put at Chickmagalur.

On the way the ‘Desire’ map was under continuous editions. We cut its corners and flapped its ears and it pretty much had a circular shape when we were done discussing.

We arrived at Chickmagalur at 10:50 pm and settled in a lodging facility which was already occupied by a mosquito army and we became its Fish ‘N’ Chip…L

March 25
6:30 am

Chickmagalur is a small town…with filth and petty shops selling all the things one might not need. At the time we ventured out none of the shops had opened apart from a few tea and biscuit vendors…on enquiring we came to know that shops opened by 9 am.

After my sleepless night and a contradicting one for G (looks like he is insensitive to mosquitoes) we hurried to the bus stand and decided to go to Kemmengundi a hill station situated 55 kms from Chickmagalur town…

The lazy town had its effect on us as we slowly sauntered to find a bus…here again the seats, ceilings and windows were reserved by the mosquitoes. On enquiring the locals, taxiwallas and the-guy-sitting-drinking-tea-smoking-beedi one comes to know that one has to catch two buses to reach kemmengundi. The route: Chickmagalur-Lingadahalli-Kemmengundi.


KemmenGundi

We boarded the bus at 8:15 am and after 15 minutes the place around us started changing and I started having a deja-vu but nevertheless refreshing…the petty shops started retreating back, driven by the shrubs that were growing bigger as we moved on…the wheels trembled as they grained on the remaining asphalt. After the mini-infantry of the shrubs, giant banyans and eucalyptus tree advanced alike the cavalry to remove traces of any commercial leftovers strewn on the ground…

Humans do live but they have to co-exist here.

Smoke from a boiling pot of hot water seemed the only trace of inhabitance around and Lingadahalli was no where in sight and we cared less.

At 9 pm after 45 minutes of a shot-in-the-arm bliss we arrived in Lingadahalli and so did the cows, shops, a small bus stand and its people trying to conquer the whole place by their mere presence.

We received a merry welcome feasted on fresh fruits, stocked our water bottles…adhering to the Indian Stretchable Time (IST)…the bus to kemmengundi scheduled at 9:15 am arrived at around 10:30 am…It was the only bus for the mornings.

G’s Spirits soared higher with the bus, and he was photographing every other cow and tree on the way. I dozed due to drowsiness of last night. We crossed villages like krishnarajapura, Ballavara on the way…

Not to mention, the nature can turn you green with envy, and we were kind of intoxicated and all we could do is hear to moans of the bus and nature belittling us with its silence, the weather was cold and everybody was silent and people called in and called out of the bus at various intervals and we never knew/bothered to ask when we would alight.

And when the time did come we were caught unawares. The bus stopped near a gate…this gate was the entrance to kemmengundi…now whoever could expect a gate for a town! Paying the entry fee of Rs.5 each…we walked through the entrance…

The roads and quality of the same improved and there was a horticulture nursery and trees attired us for the skies…

After we were done with taking-room-settle-down syndrome…we went to the near by map board and realised that kemmengundi is surrounded by hills…further one can go to forests in Muthodi for which one has to hire private transport from here. The hill station had only one phone to talk within the country…our mobile phones failed to pick-up and retain any continuous networks…we bothered about it and then turned numb as we started our hike towards the gardens in a terrace cultivation style.

We further hiked and found ourselves at around 5000 feet, our enthusiasm made it up for the thinning of air out there.

Two main places to look forward at kemmengundi would be

The Shanthi falls
The ‘Z’ Point

A hiking of around 12 kms will lead you to Shanthi falls followed by another 3 kms to ‘Z’ point. We reached atop of the hill and were happy, exhausted.

This place is smaller than a town or even a village when compared to inhabitance rate…there are no ‘people’ living here. There are horticulture nurseries, officials, caretakers, one telephone exchange, around 6 lodges (2 rooms each), one mini bus parking place, one small hospital, a broken watch tower and around 70 (caretakers, officials inclusive) living on a continuous basis. A preserved piece of land…

Sunday, Bloody Sunday…

After a deep sleep under the cold breeze and blankets we woke up like on any Sunday and rushed with the morning chores to catch the bus back to Lingadahalli. We were to go to Billibajangara Hills, Belur, and halebid before returning back to Bangalore. Huge distances were to be covered and a lot to see and do. But the day had something else in store for us.

There is only one bus from KemmenGundi to Lingadahalli in the mornings and people depend on it heavily. Owing to our strict budget we included ourselves under the mercy of public transport. A ledge gave away, or so the bearing in the wheel and the only bus, the hope to wheel away to the nearest place Lingadahalli was 25 kms away, had broken down on the way.

We looked at each other and muttered under our breath, ‘It happens’ and went for a stroll outside the gate of kemmengundi…and then realised that Lingadahalli was 25 kms…the disguised chance showed up as the sun struck mist and the clocks struck noon. We decided to take a walk along the jungle.

A few errors here: we did not get enough water as we thought it would be just 30 minutes of a journey in the bus and in all the excitement of a mini trek we forgot to go back and buy new ones. Sun started to beat upon us and we started sweating in our backs. G was more excited to sight any wild animal by chance but I washed his dreams by reminding him that they come out only in the wee hours of mornings…but nevertheless we walked with feet on ground and our heads brimmed with wonderland images…and of course with an Empty bottle + A black bag.


I was a bit tired and numb with no more plans popping. The ‘mind and desire map’ shriveled with time and so did our strength…8 kms non-stop walk on treacherous slanting roads…and 17 more to go with no water/shop in sight…

In a way it is said reality digresses itself to suck upon myths, legends and stories and make them loose their identity. Here it’s true…As we hiked, on the way we chanced upon a petty stream from a narrow water fall behind a bridge stone. We took our bags and sat there… filled the bottle in the stream…yeah this was mineral water too…

Trekking on further we come to know there is yet another waterfall, a tourist place…yep that meant food and more water…but we weren’t sure of how many more kilometers…The name I guess was Kallatigiri.

Farishta….

Screech…dreeuuulllllll….a car stops by…whisks us by saying they are giving us a lift till the road that would lead to the waterfall and speeds. G’s thoughts play all the Hindi movies and kidnapping sequences, and I plot ways to escape…Scrreeech again, they say 2 kms to the right and you have the water fall. “Good Humans”, muttered G with myself nodding my head. 4 kms done!

We walk up another 2 kilometers to reach the fall, and it’s a fall with a temple of VeeraBadhreshwara below…the water that falls on the steps of the temple has many ingredients namely: water, fishes, plastic covers, pan and gutkha packets, rice, soap, detergents, shampoo, left over pieces of cloth and of course people still adding to the mélange…yeah it’s holy…so G baths in them, I wet my feet along the streams contributing our bit.

Time: 3:00 clock

13 kms to go…

Oh there were a lot of trees, only if I knew their real names and listen to the stories they bear.

A guy in a blue shirt starts to follow us and asks if we are trekking around, I nod my head…he speaks on in Kannnada…G looks to me for translation…

We find out that he had a squabble with his friends only to end up being left in the way… time passes by and we walk…

We reach the village Ballavara by 4:30 pm and still we have 8 kms to go…Blue Boy goes home… exit!

We reach leveled roads and hike on to rest after a non-stop 7 km stretch …Land and places turn arid around and sun starts to set…wasted lands and ravines emerge out of the greenery we left by…we cannot say where the mud wins over its conquerors.

We are tired…we talk about real estate and prices only to fall in silence again…we see yet another 5 miles to go…we sit down and are intoxicated by weariness. Every step gets counted…we walk on…


Farishta arrives again in the form of a tractor…and we get on to it…and we hand them some cigarettes and they are more than happy to drop us at Lingadahalli…all’s well…we arrive and yet life and moments have their twists…we are even to witness an ‘end’ here…

Temperate

Happiness, exhaustion and ruins of our enthusiasm is what we have now…we snack at a desi tea shop nearby and G wants the bus to come…its 6:30 pm and the bus to Chickmagalur is slated to be here (at Lingadahalli) at 7:30 pm…an hour amongst mosquitoes, commotion of the village market and silence beyond that…

I sit and wait and G walks around trying to contact people through the few phone booths around…We walk again to have another tea…asking every person around if there is a bus at all to Chickmagalur…they give affirmative noises and nods.

Sudden commotion brews up in the mini bus stand and all the people gather around…striking match lights at the place where we previously sat 10 minutes ago…G walks up to see if the excitation is caused by some thing or the other that fell out of our bags…(we are tired, disillusioned!!)…

We come to know a patient who had arrived from a nearby village to see the doctor had died in waiting…there is silence…and whole market is filled with hush and the dusk dawns meanwhile…I shift my legs uncomfortable and bus arrives…we sit inside and the seats are filled with few murky strains…the very trees that enlivened me lurk as shadows along the sides...

The run back to Chickmagalur ensues and we are there by 9:30 pm for dinner…we buy our tickets to Bangalore…smiles vanish and exhaustion overcame us…the ride turns rugged…foots swell…and we grin and wince at the same time…but I know there is a peace beneath us…what is it? It’s a smile…a smile beneath the wrinkles of exhaustion…a smile blend with the above experiences however small they might be.

Uncertainities

Thanks to orkut.
I had to scrap a friend and i was about to write the same lines, "yes life's on...guess things are fine...take care". But then, hey! I stopped and for a difference i wrote something that i have been feeling much of the times, i wrote him...
"Dude, hmm quite unnerved by the uncertainities of life :(...guess it will be fine but lets see:)"
Now this friend of mine thought something is seriuously wrong as i seldom put forth such a statement in public scrap books...and he wanted to know more (typical humane attitude) and he asked me what it was and i never replied....

Guess we all have this questions like a noose above our heads....should i do A or B...what they will lead too...why not do something different? But then what if i fail when i do that?...so the questions go on...
I would not want to crib here in this article as it leads to no where....

What i am calling for is...everyone has a want to achieve something...to prove themselves to their selves and we wait for opportunities...Most of the times we regret for things that we have not done than of things that we did. Why not give it chance...put in all your effort and the physics of energy will take care of it. I did that once...and i got it...but it required all my focus and in the go i lost contacts with a few very fine friends of mine. Yes that only emphasizes that u lose some to gain anything...but then how much do u want ur needs...is the question here...

Trust me or rather trust Paul Cohelo for this line which i summarize..."when u aspire to be something/ want something, proportional to the intensity of the want the whole universe conspires around you to get you that thing".

And well if u feel like "am i being selfish"...trust me everyone is, in some way or the other...

We are, We are ALL INNOCENT :(

Venue : 189,000 kms of the coast of google shore webland.

Time: 0.000034 secs after midnight

Event
The single agent of the deterministic thread finds out the goal and the search thread lands up on the below....

The humans had perished, there was none in the planet, none of the humans...not the jesus or the caricatures from the denmark or the non-believers...the museums had been marooned and the space was pointless...the pagans became the stones they worshipped and the rest floated like the mighty air around they believed in...well when this would have happened...did the much talked about flying sphagetti monster ate them all...or did the hitchiker's deep thought was all done and through with the experiment...? Proof was found and u know what some how...damn somehow people became happy and everybody smiled...they found their faith and they also found their caves...they found the oil and they found the green papers...they had everything...some one found purpose...it was in the cleavage of his ass that he did not try to look there all these years!...the purpose was in the ass!...and yes he found it!...and someone smiled reading this...and he had not smiled for a few days now...everybody smiled...omigosh! even the ones who did not want others to be happy...damn he smiled too...because he knew when he did not want people smiling...he just had to close his eyes...damn it was right there and he did not know that...anyways he found that too...he smiled!...even the guy was happy when he knew that the vibrations in his vehicle can form skin collagen fungus as when u touch the vibration...dry skin withers and then they float in the air and in a possiblity when the earth's atmosphere comes in contact with the meteroids and then splits a part of it into the space which then strikes at mars and the same in turn happens and the fungus in the water of mars is returned back to the earth and another guy in west of africa gets the fungus and dies in the same instant when that guy's engine revs up and he is all set to go to the disneyland...the guy who found this was happy as...its not everyday u find something like this!

and the thread was too happy that it found this document and ceased to exist too...hence
Moral: please fight, go to wars...be jealous...blame and unleash the hell and heaven on urselves..worry...because if u try to be happy always and harmless...u just might become extinct...

HAPPY QED: Man...can 'not be extinct' from the above.

But if the above QED proves to be true then man is happy so...the opposite might be true also...
--I hang the scale in the balance...wink and sigh and then run away---