Archive for the 'My Life My Voice' Category

I wait

I wait to write,/ for the where could i perfect embody./ i wait for that perfectness.

Incessantly blind to the truth of amaranthine perfectness. Pulling cover over the uncomfortableness that each moment, as it is, is in its perfectness, as events, love, energy and life correlate to form each ecstatic emotion. And the capturing, preserving of this moment is what I find agony in, and what I should be finding agony in.

I wait to write. Meanwhile, ships rip the seas in which the dolphins swap their fins. Crazy ants go walkabout in the sub-Saharan Autralian leaves. Suns revolve, planets emerge, some guy on a wheelchair says that time expands.

We, lost mortals, playing with grains of sand on the cuckoo beach, whilst the ocean of us and I lies ahead, and we refuse to see.

Elephantian dreams shattering like expectations in realosphere. Where do you put your belief in? A question so radical in this world of the present, time.

I await to fly.

next change

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Next; change.

The class scapegoat representative to the student council was sweating it out in front of the 20 strong line. He was trying his best to look perfect, to be be the leader whom his kinsfolk, like me, right now standing behind him, are to follow. He was at what he did best – drum in the brute rhythm of the eight numbers, followed by a count-down, and a “next; change”, while demonstrating the perfect method to perform the physical exercises we are to perform. His female counterpart was doing the same, in front of her own 20 strong line. Physical Education class. Grade seven.

I remember that we never used to look forward to the first part of our PE classes. It involved a twenty minute long drudgery of going through seven to ten forms of stretching exercises, supposed to warm-up our bodies. Our PE teacher gave this pristine responsibility to the MSC (‘Member of Student Council’, also acronymed by kinder folk as ‘Mother of Stupid Children’), who took it up, the exchange now reminding me of a likeness to the colonised taking up the responsibilities the colonisers handed over to them – proud, exercising power, but ignorant of the fact that they were slaves being used to perform otherwise unattractive tasks to the whims of a self-established higher power.

The next part of the PE class is what everyone looked forward for. The PE teacher would come out with footballs and throw-balls. Kick-the-ball-around-and-sweat-in-the-devastatingly-hot-sun time.


Next; change.

Sometimes, our lifes are so simple. Its a simple next; change. Where we know what is the ‘next’, through lifelong brainwash and psychological feeding. We are made aware of what is the next, homogeneous inside the cartloads of information fed into our all time ill satiated minds. And ‘change’, its just a simple order, ordering us to move on to the seemingly undefined, but veritably quite pre-defined, next.

For people who are knowledgeable about the next, which is not an elite few, mind you, seeing that the whip-holders of the change constantly propagate the next, life is simple, easy, and non-chaotic. You can enjoy life in quite many ways – since the whip-holders define enjoyment and access to it, your abiding to their whims will definitely gain you privileged entry.

Its like a traffic light. Red, stop. Orange, fire engine. Green, go. Safe, non-chaotic, streamlined traffic. You are a perfect citizen.


But sometimes, life is not that simple. I wish it were never that simple. Where the ‘next’ is unknown, and the ‘change’ is not an order. Rather, the change is a dive deep into the unknown realms of the next. With trust centred not on an establishment, but your self. A steep dive into the dark cold exhilarating next, hand-in-hand with your beautiful self.

Because at one point in humanity, the hound was raped, and the heart slaved. It was from this point that self gave way to system, in the guise of selfishness giving way to selflessness. Every raped hound should come to think again, why?

And they will, oh rulers of the world, oh holders of the whip, oh dictators of the proletariat, oh Augustus of Rome, They will think again why. And that why will be powered by the love of the indomitable Spirit. That why will roll back the ages of education, which you indoctrinated in the name of your systems, and like a revolting ocean, made of the slew of individual waves which had their goings tough when you were the ocean, they shall lash the waters back against you, and ingest you, and love you. The hounds shall awake from the years of post traumatic stress following their rape. Beware, the light. And beware, the carriers of that light.


Next; change.

Toodles to where it all began..

I remember.

I was excited. I was at it for almost an hour now. I’m glad that my parents are in the other room. I wouldn’t want them to know that I was online for almost an hour! Dial up is so expensive! I hope it won’t show too much on the phone bill..

But its ok… Right now, its this moment that matters. This moment. I might be caught in lust, momentary infatuations.. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing it. But never mind, I can’t stop… Anyway I had done so much.. Why not do a little more and reach the.. end.. or the beginning..

I was excited. Every time the 56k connection lagged, I sighed, I prayed deeply to all Gods introduced to me by people around me. I was so close… so close..

And yesss! I was there! Wow! Amazing! For the first time… wow.. This is what I had always wanted to do.

I was excited. I called my best friend and comrade-in-action…

I was 11 years old.

I remember that time, when I was so excited. When I had made my first public online presence. With a huge URL which no one would know, or remember. Something like http://www.geocities.yahoo.com/geocities/users/….. And I had some ridiculous id, which I, then, thought was cool. Something like bwmo….. or something. But all that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was there, up there, on that huge being which I thought was so cool, which I wanted to get to know better, and conquer, which had become my latest companion, and my best friend in a world where I had none.

And it had all started with this service called Yahoo! GeoCities.

It has been a run since then. For almost half a year, racing with my friend to make the better website. Adding bouncing hippos, and falling snow, mouse overs, and colourful text.. It didn’t matter that no one knew about our ‘websites’. Did not matter that no one, but we ourselves, used or visited those ‘sites’. After two or three GeoCities websites, we moved on to other hosting firms, using software to make websites, as opposed to the web application, learning code, designing, making better websites, programming, making concept ideas for websites, designing and working on them, blogging..

But it all started with Yahoo! GeoCities. And I remember.

And my remembrance will it all be. Goodbye GeoCities. And thank you. For making my world for those many years. For making me live.

[For more information, visit Yahoo! Support Pages. If you want to see a website which was on GeoCities, visit the Internet Archive]

On Respect

I wish, I wish, that there was more love in this world. Because, love then gives birth to respect. And respect to humanity, and more love.

But what is respect? Or Respect?

Is it spending a moment of silence because of the death of someone close? Or is it being silent for a moment, or more, because you have nothing to say or speak or sound? Is it restraining yourself from blogging because a friend passed away? Or is it you had nothing to write, because a friend passed away?

Is it calling your father by a respectful name because you are expected and used to doing so? Or is it putting in your entire heart and body and soul and love into calling that name, because it means so much?

Is it fearing the powers of nature? Or is it loving Her, and being humble, before Her who is so humble?

Is it being humble? Or is it humbled?

Is it setting aside something you so wanted to do for somebody else.. Or is it not feeling like doing something you so wanted to do, for somebody else?

More questions that I put before you, my Love.

And while you’re at it, please also try to explain through life, what is love? Is it like artificial intelligence where the program is programmed to behave in every possible imaginable event is termed as intelligence itself? Or is it like intelligence, that which is unexplained and infinite?

Love you.

Mmmmm

Its amazingly funny how things in you can change, and you never realise it. Its just been three weeks in Norway, and I’ve picked up the habit of saying “mmm” for the most life threatning to the most trivial things.

Its not a simple mmm. Its an mmmmm which comes from deep inside – from the very bottom of my lungs. It comes out very deep, like the end three quarters of ‘Om’.

Today, I commented on a dear friend’s blog, and though I loved the post so much, and was very moved by it, all I could say was “Mmmmm”.

And I’m so very comfortable doing it. The first few times I did it, it was like I always wanted to do it. It was like finding a friend who was I was so close to in a past life of mine.

Wow. How things can change… And how it escapes you… Ironically ridiculous, when I think that just three weeks back, my every prayer, and my every hope yearned that I am in control of my change.

I’ve started letting go. Of so many things. Things which I would have held on to, dearer than life, if  were a few thousand miles away, in that place I call home. I find peace by connecting to the Self. I almost don’t cry anymore. I give a hug to myself, console my self, counsel my self, forgive my self… Its a whole sociosystem right inside me – so many people running around…

I’ve been trying extremely hard to give space to others. Because often, I’ve found myself way too dominating. Should have been more careful. Because now, I find that I cannot make that space for my self myself; I have to be offered. How pathetic.

I don’t talk anymore. I cannot talk if I’m not being genuine. And I can’t be genuine if I don’t talk.

The things going on right now would have bowled me over, a few weeks back. But its so easy here, to get bowled over again and again deep inside, and not let a single soul outside know an iota about it.

And after all this, oommmmmmmmmm, and everything’s alright. Everything is in the picture. Everything I see, is the way, because thats the only way it can be. Peace.