Shall I pray for you dears

‘Chammal’ is a word with beautiful connotations. It has just one use in our tongue, to describe a sense of shame or losing face before others. Unfortunately the meaning of the word can not be translated in full. As I said it has wonderful connotations. That is why the words beginning with ‘Cham’ are so dear to me. It has a kind of charm to it.

In my warfare with the perps there have been innumerable occasions in which the brazen idiots have tried to put me to shame in front of others. At the beginning, in my state of ignorance of the real nature of attack, I was baffled by the evil that certain incidents could generate in my life. They are not accidental as I soon found out. The perps do a great deal of home work on their subjects and carefully orchestrate events for such purposes. They make use of the data they have generated by all sort of methods from the near and dear of the target even

In all kinds of society people have an aversion to being considered paranoid in front of others and would reply to questions to show that they are not afraid of anything. Unfortunately they do not realize that they should be afraid for others. I believe that this is the method by which the perps try to alienate the close relatives of the target. They would shamelessly make use of the information obtained through such methods to put doubts in the mind of the target.

The targeted person would be aware that the information the perps are handling are exclusive and are known to a very few in the circle that he moves. She/he will think that those persons they had high faith have betrayed them to their enemies. This causes a rift among them further isolating the individual from the society and friends. One needs to be wary of this and try not to push away those who are near you because they had the gullibility to reveal something about you to such scum.
The perps of course have no shame to speak of. If they have any faces to lose they have lost it in their child hood. They inhabit the immortal realm of amorality with unbelievable impunity. To my mind it looks as if they have been brutalized in their childhood. Otherwise they would not be this brazen with their tricks. May be this is why they want to see others in the “Chammal” stage.

My struggle with the preps has entered a brand new phase now. They want me out of the office I am in at present. Pappedathy is organizing the attack as usual. There is something curious in the recent developments. They have posted a young fool to the office and they fear that I would destroy the precious “child” altogether if he takes charge here. There is something in the fear too.

He was instrumental in bringing missives from the high and mighty above me who sits at the center of power to put me in a spot every now and then. My immediate superiors had a great relish pulling me to pieces while this imbecile was sitting before them in their cabin and I was made to stand all through the tirades.

I am not the forgiving sort. They believe that I would make use of every opportunity to make him suffer. They may or may not be right in this. Only the future will tell us that. Any way because of this fear the guy can not come and join the office. They can’t hold him at the place he is now also because the post is lying vacant and the posting was made months ago.

They are in terrible quandary. They are unremittingly enacting skits in front of me to either make me go on leave or get a transfer to some other place. All their efforts have failed up to now. Now they have taken to threatening my life. This follows in the wake of using bawds and deviants to make me upset. They have become frantic now and are probably planning to do me in. They also have access to government funds to do it.

These are the guys with no “chammal” in them. If you have seen the intensity with which the poor fools enacted today’s drama, you would have been dumb struck. They are going completely berserk. One black lady in particular had the ugliest smirk on her face when I was coming out of the office. There was bawds and deviants outside arranged to supposedly “de -humanize” me.

It actually humanized me. I feel for the poor souls who have to sell themselves like this and for the sorry specimens of humanity that I have as my colleagues.

I have started praying for them now.

Aren’t we the thing now

It was not a bolt from the blue. It was not unexpected too. The local sillies have been working on it for some time now. They are devious. The honest and straight forward days of the pinkies are over and done with for ever. They are into wonderfully kinky things now. What was abhorrent to them in the days of socialist euphoria (Think of the high moral standard they used to uphold every where else than in the realm of international relations.) is the in thing now. They have whole heartedly embraced the “Pleasure Principle” and avidly support all sorts of deviant behavior.

I know of several such “up right’ citizens among the denizens of the lowly left. Their presence would defile the solidest of substances. They spread some sort of a disease which is incurable. I used to work with one of them especially. My heart shivers with revulsion when I think of him. I know that this is a very uppish stance. But even so it is much healthier than that of his. I can understand depravity, but I can never condone it. Not because it is vile but because it shows a lack of strength on the part of the depraved individual. I don’t think that these shoddy specimens of humanity have earned it congenitally. They have developed it themselves in their search of pleasure.

It is not even a conscious decision. It’s imbibed and followed blindly. That is what is hateful in it. These are not out and out morons. These are individuals with a semblance of intellect. No, I can’t say nice things about these, that is beyond me. It is not because I am a moralist, but it is because of the very reverse. These are the guys who have taken it on themselves to change the world for the better. How can they even think on those lines without managing to hang on to a semblance of decency in themselves?

When I think that I also used to take these repulsive cretins seriously I can’t possibly have any faith in my judgment now. Some might wonder why I sometimes deride myself to hell. This is the reason why. I had the ill luck to take some political changelings at their words and as a result had been sadly defrauded. Don’t think that by calling them nitwits I am belittling their deviousness and crookedness. The idiocy and imbecility that I am talking of is of another nature. It’s the worst kind of idiocy that is there in the world.

My wonder is how this vermin–in-the-poison can be taken up with the horrible belief that what they believe is one day going to save the world. This is his most ghastly form of slavery ever. Their barbarousness has not saved them from being the stooges of an ideology which is so utopian and defunct and meaningless and inappropriate that it is ludicrous that it would ever be a force in the world again.

No they do not mater anymore anywhere now. Some might think that my analysis is brutal. But it is the fact. No amount of reading Das Capital, as the Americans are now doing after the recent recession, is going to put the Red Brigade back in power. Their days are over. At the very moment the nuclear bomb was discovered the days of communism and its fond hope of a class less society went through rubbish chute.
It’s never going to revive. So you if there are people gullible enough to believe in such a fantastical notion, develop some sort of dialectics which would make you see the reality as it exists now.

Anyway these only bear very generally with what happened today. They did a ‘crab’ on me, did not approach in a straight line. I could see them circling around. The aberrant individuals have a style of their own in such matters. They are hand in hand with the group that is out to get me. This has been going on for sometime. They erred in their judgment of me and were led astray by one among them. He had an axe to grind and he made use of the organization he was in for the purpose.

He is a lowly character. This was evident to the discerning from the very first. He looks definitely like an anal retentive to me. One can understand just by looking at him that he had passed the stage of having any finer feelings for others or the world in general. It is not even disillusionment. It was total bestiality concealed only very barely.
This was deplorable, to say the least. Not because I was affected, I have seen others being shoddily treated by him before. He was the organizations darling and because of his wretchedness they had to stand by him. You can’t take sides where one of the has been done in by the life can you. They naturally took his side. Let facts go wander!

But it is the lack of insight that is worrying. I could be the only decent individual around in the set up in the sense that I have a pathological aversion to corruption. Of course these strange people thunder that they are against corruption at every opportunity they have. They are either the greatest dissemblers around or are so gullible and innocent to believe that the guy’s they are supporting is blameless.
Honestly I have started to hate the very sight of them. This has nothing to do with their political affiliations. The left is a non existent ‘thingy’ now in the world. It has run its course and is now defunct. Such as these would never grasp it because of an inability to go beyond the injected beliefs. All round them their laboriously erected citadels are crumbling. People are calling them liars and cheats to their faces. There is in-fight in their camps. Some of them have already espoused the cause of capitalism in a big way. Those who have seen the modern versions of the once idealistic (they called themselves “Materialists” then. Their modern brethren would qualify as the toughest specimens of it.)

There is one thing going for them now, the cronies are ready to work hard to make a living by collecting funds. If they show half the industry in their lives they would be successful in life. But strangely they would not. I have been places where they hold full sway in the past. The hot stars as well as the humble followers would be sitting around in the most unusual of places smoking ‘beedies’ and drinking foul tea all day long discussing world politics. Oh don’t make any noises about it. They know the world politics by heart. They can guess at the moves Obama. They would know what is happening in Gaza and elsewhere. But if you ask them if there is anything to eat at home, well that was what they were unaware of.

The times have changed and now they have become converted en- masse into pseudo-capitalists all of a sudden. They talk only of market now and of power of course. They have learned that power is money and they are out to make it. In the case of trade unions this has become more brazen. They have even taken to claim fantastical and non existent things as their victories.

They are at times unbelievable.

I have been ignoring them. I thought that they would never have the temerity to approach me for their fund collections, thought that they would at least have the decency to let me be. We both know where we stand.

Yet there it is. They came and did some “Crab” moves and there is money in their kitty. Good work really. Only it has left a foul smell behind.

Have mercy on us poor sinners

There are things and people who come to our lives quite uninvited. Perhaps we have caused it in some way. I too have had such experiences in my life. But in my poor enemy’s case this seems to be even worse. Invariably he does some silly thing and then start to reap the rewards for it. Mostly much in excess too. That is the sad part.

There is this story: The father tells his son to think thrice before doing anything in his absence and goes out.

When he returns he finds his son with his head locked in between the horns of their pet ox. The oxen sometimes have long curved horns as you know (Don’t kill me for writing this!). If you really want to, you can just squeeze your head in between them.

No doubt it could be a pretty thrilling experience too. Especially if the ox is a rowdy one. The poor guy would not get enough time to reflect on his folly, or so it appears to the rest of the world.

Anyway the father extricates his son from horns of the ox and asks:

Did I not tell you to think thrice before doing something?

The son replied.

What the hell do you mean? I must have thought at least a hundred times before doing that!

Well my dearest enemy finds himself in the same predicament. There are things which you can’t cure however you try. His pet personal silliness is one such. True he does not indulge in it as he used to do once. Old age has mellowed him somewhat.

His recent seriously imprudent exploit has left him high and dry on the land with no lady in it. Some kind friend of his called it “A humbling experience “. Without doubt, it has been a humbling experience alright.

I do find that his inanity has some hidden purpose behind it. It could be divinely ordained even. It must have some deep objective that I am not aware of. It might suddenly illuminate my mental space as if by a bolt of lightening and shows me for what he is. I am waiting for this to happen.

It could be an interesting revelation too. He might know that he has been doomed to fail all along. But like most people in the world he followed his fancy without thinking about the consequences and is currently having it very good on all fronts.
He does not appear at the work place often too. Sad it is.

They say land and lady is behind every trouble. I don’t know whether the feminists would approve of this saying. It’s a man’s world still isn’t it?

Anyway the lady has quit calling him Ente chettaaa now perhaps at his express behest. (Chetta in this case means ‘my very own sweet elder dear’. Actually ‘Chetta’ is a word used to address an elder brother in our poor tongue. But when girls call their lovers or husbands ‘chettaaa’ there is no blood ties implied. It shows nearness and respect and trust, I believe. I can’t get into the mind of a woman and dissect what is there. I don’t know if they mean something else by that.)

It is reported that she had inadvertently let the endearing name drop off her sweet mouth while the rest of the staff was having lunch. It spread like a wild fire, her lunch time lady companions spreading it with ritualistic fanaticism. I never could have learned about this unless one ardent lady told me of it even forgetting that we belonged to rival camps.

He has aged somewhat after the incident. Looks an old man all of a sudden. Honestly he is much younger than that. He is younger to me too. I don’t know how he learned about it. He can refute or deny his connection with the bright lady but a revelation of this sort has the added strength of making it crystal clear and establishing truth beyond any doubts what so ever.

I really feel sorry for him. He should have not let such things come out. Women are the most fickle of all fickle phenomena (Not all women mind you I have seen strong women). They are probably jealous too of the lady. She is new this environment and may have no idea how things work in it.

I also do not know whether the jealous ones are trying to make use of me to get back at the poor man. It is also possible. They might be aiming to eliminate all their threats at one go. I am their sworn enemy; the new girl has irritated them because of her youth and sexiness. The chettan may have been guilty of not showing them the kind of attention he had been showing before.

Anyway they could launch a grand offensive against this poor soul after this post. The only consolation is that there is nothing unusual in it. They are at it day and night.

The poor dude could murder me too, has wife and kids. Swami SaraNam!

Conclusions

Now life is what we call unpredictable. No, no, not unprintable as some believe. There are such bits too in it. Even De Sade found them hard to print. Or the forgetfulness on the part of Mrs. De Sade made it appear so. At one time people went for the curious and printed everything that is remarkable in life. Once embedded they lost the curio.

Yet there are still capricious things in life. Sometimes we think of one thing and something else invariably happens. Man and brother (let us exclude women, they are the most capricious of all. I go in their dread) that is the most outrageous of all.

Normally we don’t take kindly to it. We have our pride mind you……

And we say ‘crap’ like billions out there in the world, the world reverberates with the din, still our friend the God does not utter a single syllable. Strangely there has not been a recent incident where the guy has enunciated a word.

Why not say something like “There is no use in peace” or things like that. It might keep the people happy you know. Are the politicians better than this dude who made the world?

Remember he is the one who was with the word from the start or was it the other way round was the word was with God. Anyway some one was with somebody for sure. But both seem to be very reticent now for whatever reasons.
Certain of us seem to have got the wind of it.

There was even one guy who asked us to listen to the inner silence! Dear Satano’s what has the world come to?
Tell us, how can we listen to the bloody silence? Isn’t it an oxymoron?

The guy also seems to claim that he is God a la Nietzsche’s superman. It is not clear whether it is a la Christopher Reeves or a la Jeeves. There seems to have been some doubt whether Jeeves was a Nazi too.

Anyway if Nietzsche was not a Nazi he created the philosophy for it. Thus Spake Zarathustra.

Now coming back to this guy who is all for silence, what right has he to advice the rest of the world to be so.

The sheer audacity of it all. Not that there is some one called God; that we are sure of. Voltaire has proven otherwise. But that is not here or there. Even if the fellow is a figment of imagination it would not harm if we show some respect.

Well as an aside we also would like to be God would we not? It’s the most pleasurable of all occupations. You don’t have to do anything; you just sit there and keep your silence. C’mon what can God do other than play marbles with his aides in heaven. Do you think that he doesn’t realize the ‘complex” world he had created is not easy to manage?
Give the God a modicum of intelligence my friends. He is God after all. He did create us all in a fit of forgetfulness. Well he was not to blame. He had not taken his medication on that day, and every one knows what happens when that happens.

‘The poor chap’ as the English would say.

Well as you can see we have arrived at the conclusion that the world is unpredictable and God is highly predictable in the sense that he is not likely to utter a single syllable now by way of deductive logic. Don’t ask me where the deduction is. There could be some such thing somewhere. You can find it for yourself can’t you?

What in the name of .....

None takes philosophy seriously now. It has been sort of banished from the scene altogether. Our modern oracle is the science and it says you can’t look for absolutes any more. There are no absolutes; there are only relative truths, partial revelations.

But ever since the inception of quantum mechanics, the basic belief of science that the world is material has taken a terrible knocking. We can’t even determine the building blocks of the universe with its help. It seems that there are hundreds of primary particles in the universe, every one equally important.

What is more worrying is that our limitations extend to the instruments that we make use of. We can’t even see an electron in action, for to see it we need to use the gamma rays of radium or such rays but even weaker rays tend to disperse them completely and drive them out of our sight. What we relay on now is the pictures that an electron emission makes if they are driven towards a photographic plate to determine that they exist.

Science has not been able to determine whether the matter it studies is made of waves or particles. There is total uncertainty in the sub atomic world. At the cosmic level we see galaxies flying away at such immense speeds that the universe is becoming larger and larger by the minute. Einstein had once said the ray of light would have to come back to its source after 35 billion light years or so. It was assumed that was the breadth of our universe because the velocity of light was supposed to be the limiting velocity in the universe.

But no one believes it now. The universe seems to be much larger than that.
As the sciences do not provide any answers to our questions it was but natural to look for other sources of illumination. A good source would have been philosophy, but instead most people have turned towards theology for consolation. Well it is the easy way; you only need to have faith to go for it. The rest is taught you in ready made form. All answers are in the holy book. Philosophy is not okay at all, it takes up much time and who has time in this world?

The fact is that none is interested in the subject now.

We can’t blame people for that too. The sphere of human knowledge has become so vast that even the greatest of minds would find it impossible to attempt to learn the basic facts of different sciences. This is pre requisite before going for philosophy. Aristotle was able to do it in his age. Yet a little boy or girl in our times would be able to correct him in many of his assumptions. That is how we have grown. We can’t learn everything about everything in our small life span.

Science has divided the whole of human knowledge into small kingdoms and no one has the right to meddle in it unless he is qualified in it.

But yet we would like to know what this life is all about, would we not?
Let us ask Thales of Miletus about what causes everything.

“No doubt everything comes out of water and would return to water”
What if we ask the same question to Democritus?

“Atoms and space, there is nothing else, atoms and space”

Let us not consider whether these statements are true according to modern science. Some would argue for it and some against it. They would be right too. It is a matter of point of view. But there is something more serious in the above observations. Both our guests were trying to unravel what lies behind all the phenomena we see around us, from stars to a grain of sand, from man to microbe. They were after learning the essence of life and the world.
And this is what we are after too. This does not concern any of the modern sciences. No science has yet stated it is after finding the basic and general principle at work in making the world.
Some say it is lays the sphere of Theology. But we can’t leave it at that, can we. To us it is far too important to leave it to any reverend or rabbi or swami or mullah. Let us even grant that there is something in what these people say and teach. But they have learnt it second hand, and those that taught them learnt it second hand too and so on backwards.

So where do we stand? We stand at some place where the sciences can not help us and we do not really believe our priestly buddies can too.

This is what is called an impasse

We do not have time to spend on the thing too. We have too many concerns, too many preoccupations, too many commitments. We are rushed for time; at times we do not have enough time for a nice-

Yet we are intrigued. What in the name of god is the world about! This comes to us in our rare moments of our respite. What the heck, where does this come from. It is most disquieting of all feelings, this unresolved riddle of life.

We need to investigate it do we not?

I

A Play for Power

We are dealing with hearts that are black and thoughts that are lethal, yes we are amidst minds that are diabolical and destructive. Conscience is not even a legible and decipherable word for them. It’s a non existent territory. It’s something alien and repulsive. Power is the only value that they know of, that they work and kill for. When we talk of a scheme to swindle us off our inalienable right to freedom some think we are conspiracy theorists.

Conspiracy is not a theory, it’s a fact of life, its something that have been in existence in the world all along and it is always against people and against groups. There have always been side-kicks of the ruling who tried to usurp power in this way, in the subtle and concealed way, in the most heinous and macabre way. They grow in the shades of power like poisonous mushrooms. People think they are dispensable, but try to dispose of them, and then you will soon find out.

Crimes are not merely committed on the sphere of the physical alone, they are first fabricated in the realm of the mind, where they seethe and fume till they come out into the open in devious ways. Some say that Hitler’s followers were just following orders. It may seem that in a certain sense this could be right. But this obedience is the result of some thing deeper and vile in the human psyche.

We are all beset with the dark and try to over come it. Some are successful in curbing it to some extent if the conditions are favorable. There appears to be people who hang on to some shreds of ethics even faced with the terrible of all experiences. Yet these are few and there are others willing enough to call them cowards.

But once we are in the vicinity of power everything vile in us comes out. Perhaps there is some indefinable thing in the very structure of power which makes this possible. Power is heady; it satisfies a criminal lust in us. Our crimes seem to be spiritual rather than material. Those who have tried to investigate human criminal background tentatively suggest that it is somehow linked to our evolution as an intelligent species. We were perhaps breaking the bonds imposed by nature. We are the only species which kills its own members. Others species seem to be totally incapable of doing that.
Killing ones fellow is not a thoughtless procedure. It can’t be done by other species on earth. It requires the ability to justify the action, however nonsensical the justification might be. This in its turn necessitates a higher level of cerebral activity. Initially this might have occurred due to strife.

Strife is sexual in orientation as Freud observed shrewdly. It’s an effort to come on top, to lord over others, to make others squirm. Some derive pleasure from this and this alone. But the world has become changed. It is never safe to go out and bash people now. Only the lower intellects turn to open murder now. There are institutions and forums to answer before. Most of the criminals are caught. They are put behind bars or are executed out right. These poor souls have worked with emotions; they were drawn in to the cauldron of vice by imbibing the negative energy created by our psyche. Yet we shudder when we learn about the crimes that these do. We have castrated them brutally by allowing them to exist in a void without extending any sort of help.

We do not see the real criminals behind the scenes or more to the point do not chose to recognize them. Most of the poor bastards who are caught are pawns who vent the hatred of others. We created them.

We can’t shirk away from the responsibility and we can’t pose as if we do not know that such environments exist within society and that we teach children the wrong kind of values which they can’t live up to. Most of us think nothing of the value systems we were provided with. We regularly see them discarded, torn asunder, trampled under. We do not complain and more often than not we follow suit.

There is something wrong with our race that we can’t hold on to the ideals created by our own race. We have been trying to do this for thousands of years. But we are as distant from accomplishing them as were people during the Paleolithic age.

This has to do with power. This has to do with the bestial lust to control and manipulate others, to subjugate and rule, to overcome and direct them. I have always believed that those who want power are not after it to do something beneficial for the society. They are functioning with a congenital defect that we carry, of an exhibitionist affinity towards pure authority. This seems to be the most basic fact influencing us. Even the masochist tries to control his or her prey by engendering an emotional dependence within the other person.

Viewed like this everything is a play for power. Even surrender is a sort of talk of taking responsibility for the defeat and becoming morally stronger than the enemy. With all this going on within the individual, facts gets lost and fancies tend to sprout. This is a moral disease that we have to over come and curb finally. This is a great impediment on the society, crippling our efforts to break the rule of internal terror.
Great souls have always tried to instill confidence in us. But every time what was good in their teachings were taken over by the institutions which came in their wake and as institutions go they become corrupt and become unreliable. Even the kind words of Siddhartha were blackened out to create Tantra Yana and worse forms of magic. The followers of Christ fought among themselves and against other faiths, killing their brethren.

Before finding fault with conspiracy theorists, the others would need to go through the story of human adventure on this globe. It has never instilled confidence in the establishment and probably never will. Criticizing the existing institutions is not an effort to nullify or ignore their beneficial aspects (Which are rare though) but is an effort to bring out the ills of the system so that we can do something about it.

Parenting

Was he stinking that bad? No no he was attired in the best of cloths. He was scented and powdered. He had the best of manners. But that is not it, is it? There is something beyond appearances. Something which is discernible to the mind when you are dealing with a fellow human being. Something you gather from your experiences even if involuntarily that tells you the real story.

I was never interested in this strange being from the very first. He has very few thoughts on finer things of life other than that which went to polish his outer self. The absence of the inner being has left a gaping vacuum in his character. This is not obvious to the general public. People go by appearances. When they see a presentable façade they tend to believe that what is within has the same kind of finesse.

This sad specimen of humanity has a way of taking everything for granted. Though his moral level is that of the lowest scum that was ever born on the face of the earth he normally exhibits it as something unbelievably unique and likable. It sends the shivers into me. I have seen morally depraved characters, those without a conscience. But this one could have been a Penzaram if the circumstances were favorable, without the saving grace of keeping the promises.

He would commit any crimes with impunity; go to any lengths in moral depravity. It was a sorry day when I set my eyes on him. From his looks you would never guess to the extend that he has sunken. Though I was not taken in by his poses I had thought him as a normal human being and not as a monster in human form which he soon proved to be from the words that he let pass and reports of his colleagues and acquaintances. I was never very observant in that regard.

I had the extreme ill luck to meet this depraved character today and it has completely ruined my day. No amount of washing has taken the stench off me. I am still revolted and disgusted. It’s as if something slimy and terribly heinous has touched my soul. I feel defiled and filthy. I don’t think that I would ever get rid of the stench in this life.

No I do not claim to be so pure that the whole heaven would stand up and worship me when it sees me. Honestly to such a man creatures of this sort would not be a problem at all. I believe that in a certain stage of my life when I knew one or two things about life I also could have withstood such as him, for depravity as well as finesse seemed senseless to me then. But that is a different path and can not be followed by those battling in the normal world. Here one need to discern what is acceptable and healthy and what is not.

This deadly soul (for want of a better word) can not be accepted under any circumstances. He is sum total of what is ill and destructive in the world.

Interestingly he seemed to be on intimate terms with my inane colleagues and may be that is no wonder at all. It is a case of blood recognizing blood. These evil specimens have the same preferences in life. Well I would not categorize my in-office enemies in the same cadre of this monstrosity. They have a lot of ground to cover. They probably do not know what the thing is. But they have certainly shown promise in that line. May be with his guidance they would become even willing to sell their kids (He is very partial in that regard it is heard) as well that is if they have not already done so.

Well all types of people go to make a world. It seems we have to suffer these obscenities silently. There was a poet in our land who wrote the most ticklish sort of poetry ever. To all appearances he should have been the nicest individual around. Yet he modeled himself on Byron it seems, in his personal life. Not poetry-wise but lifestyle-wise. He once said that he had sex with a serpent. I leave the details to your imagination.

This guy could go one better and do it with the worm itself yet he would be partial to his own child in such matters.

It’s all about ‘good parenting’ you know.

Life

Not that I was interested, but one has to humbly accept what one gets. So I had no complaints. My ‘mash’ was delighted. He had his doubts on it. I too did not think that I would ever get the promotion. There was some foul play. Every time the DPC meets my name would not be included.

The thing is called the departmental promotion committee. But it actually is a dick and prick committee. All the dicks and pricks in the world get elected to it.

There are envious people. But why should my former boss be envious, I did not see the confidential reports he sent. But I know he played bad. He is like that. He never sees any good in anybody. Look what he has done to poor Andrew. He made him work his butt off. The poor guy would be sitting at his desk while we leave in the evening. He would be there at it in the morning too. In return he gets memos in plenty.

Badly delayed, Shall be reported to higher pricks etc. What in the hell is the matter with the guy. He is the ultimate jerk. Laughs stupidly like a hyena, but is not stupid at all. Our ‘hotpot’ says he is the shrewdest in the department. Well I don’t think much of him. He is as bad as the other one. They have fights all the while. One gets it up the you know what one time, the other does it the next time.

They like to play the power game. It keeps them interested in life I think. They can play all they want. But why put a spanner in my wheels. They have enough to play with already, is not there. The disgrace of it. He called me up the other day and began advising me.

“You are soon to get promotion…….

As if he was the one who is helping me out.

Then he came to the point.

“You know there is this work load. I am planning to make you acquainted with the ropes. Learn work.”


Well I got the promotion and he is cooling heels somewhere.

That’s life!

Going for your inner vehicles

I am interested in strange technologies that target human mind. Some of these could be mere figments of imagination. Some on the other hand are real and extremely dangerous like the microwave and electromagnetic devises that aim to maim the mind and take away our freedom. Though enough evidences already exist, the vested interests have kept these developments under cover and have tried to deny their existence completely by disinformation campaigns.

You see it is through our ignorance that they harness their power to rule us!
The effectiveness influencing our minds through overt and covert suggestions can never be underestimated. Have any one noticed how the US Presidents in a good percentage of the Television dramas from the US appeared black in the recent times? This is an example of overt messages that you can plant in human minds to alter or affect the thinking of the people. Some might say that it was a need of the times and the people were ready for a change and the media was just reflecting the mood of the people. But honestly it is not as easy as that is it. A little thought would convince you of it.

I am not saying this is a bad instance of the method of influencing people by the force of the media. This was a nice example. It created a climate for a marvelous change and whether there was an intelligent effort to make it possible or not is not important in that regard. But this should open our eyes to the real power exerted by such instruments of mass communication.

Anyhow what I am interested here is another quaint aspect of the research into the “unknown”. The Microleptonic field. This is the bio energy field that the Soviet scientists used to speak of before their sate fell. It seems that there has been some considerable research into this around the seventies in the USSR. The Micro leptons are said to be superlight weakly interacting particles which are 5-12 orders lighter than electrons.

Well the interesting thing is that these are the material with which our “Aura” is built. Now don’t run away. Human aura is not something mystical as the ‘very intelligent’ may believe. Hold your hands against a white background. You will see a faint out line just outside the fingers and palm. It’s no optical illusion. Its part of your bio energy field and it exists. You do not need a kirlian camera to make sure that you have a bio energy field.

The soviet scientists believed that microleptic radiation was emitted by everything and especially living things. They had also developed an apparatus called the photoleptonic apparatus to see these emissions by converting them into light. These energies were believed to be harmless till it was found that ‘metallurgical furnaces’ (It is not clear what is meant by this expression. I could not clarify it anyway) emit harmful radiation which affects humans in different ways.

They found 5 stages of effects of harmful microleptic radiation depending on intensity of radiation. In the first stage the subject seemed to have lost interest in the surroundings, and became irresistibly weak and tired. Logical activity of the brain was affected in the second stage. In the Third stage the subjects lost orientation inside the lab. When the forth stage was reached the diseased organs in the body began to fail. The Fifth stage probably was not pursued by the scientists……
Though they saw that machines beaming such energies could be built to harm humans they also perceived great potential for it in the field of study of telekinesis, invisibility, levitation and influencing nature.

The darker part of the revelation was that there were people working on the fourth stage of the effects of the radiation on humans. You can imagine what the purpose behind the efforts actually was. If this was the case in the seventies in the last century I can’t envisage where it is now and if the research is still going on in the field.

Well most technologies get misused in our world. If it exists now it could also get into the hands of the enemies of humanity.

They have not wholly disappeared from the face of the earth have they? They can’t even be called the human leprechauns.

The Sick and the Ailing

I barely knew him then.

I was new to the place and he was famous for his disappearing acts. He had just come back after one of his stunts and we got acquainted.

That is, some one said

This is ……

And I said smiling “Yes?”

And he said nothing at all, immediately attaching himself to some one else and moving away.

He was disturbed and would lie on the wooden coat in our room staring up at the ceiling. He would not speak. He was like a child and would even come and lie on any other bed uninvited. In fact he preferred to sleep in other beds than his own. He was ill.

We shared the same room.

I had long stopped being philanthropic by then. But had taken a liking for this strange character. May be because he was such a child. Or may be because of the wonder I felt at his foolish faith in others.

Can others be relied upon? . Only the crazy seemed to believe so. None can be trusted I felt, no, not even your blood relatives. None.

He would ask all sorts of questions when he felt like it.

“Why am I like this? “

I would look at him. I thought one should not ignore the emotionally disturbed. I tried to convey to him by my look that I was his friend and I was listening to him. He did not need such reassurances though. He would behave just the same to all. But others would make themselves scarce when he starts to pose questions.

I still had a streak of feeling then for my race, I was also his room mate. I could not avoid him like others.

On occasions he would look very scared.

“It’s as if something is burning up my heart!”

His face would look as if it was breaking in to hundreds of pieces

I would think. Who he is complaining to? I carry a cauldron of fire inside mine. It has demonic flare ups every other moment. It hasn’t yet destroyed me fully, but it will. In the end it will.

I had felt sure of that.

If he is near when he says those things I would lay a hand on him and say.

“You are sweating” or something harmless like that. That would not deter him anyway.

He would go on rambling about his feelings disjointedly. I would listen and pat him and would go on thinking my own little thoughts.

I felt helpless. He was never violent. His elder brother would come every other day and entrust his care to us. Watching both the brothers side by side was interesting. The disturbed one would look placid and very talkative while the other would look scared and troubled.

Who was ill really?

Once I thought of taking him outside. It is not that it pained me to see an active young man staying in bed all day through. No I had seen bad things than that by then. The world has a way of drying your feelings up. It makes you pine for the life of Mr. Hyde. You want to become completely insensitive to everything.

If you can trample a little kid underneath and still feel no pangs of consciousness inside you that is the way you want to be. Totally insulated from everything. May be it is a result of being inordinately sensitive once. You want to go the other way. Killing the human in you.

I knew it was a defensive mechanism. But hell I was comfortable with it then.

I had to force him to go out with me.

“You go” he said. “I’ll lie here.”

“I want company; it’s not for you alone.”

“Oh, you go.”

“Come on man, its only human to give company to your friend”

“You are not my friend, we just became acquainted.”

He had such very strong opinions some times.

“Okay you can show compassion for the desolate can’t you?”

“You don’t need any compassion. You are strong.”

“So you think.”

“So I know.”

Even his affected state did not dull his force of convictions. How ever erroneous they may be he held on to them.

Later some how he agreed and we went out.

He was listless and worried all the time and would not answer any of my questions in the beginning. Soon I began to question myself. Perhaps I did not do the right thing in bringing him out like this. It might not be good for him too.

His brother might not approve of it. What would happen if he does something? I began to worry.

“Tell me about her.” I said.

I knew that she was the cause of his sickness. I was afraid to broach the subject. Then I thought, why not, may be it would bring him back to reality.

“There is nothing to tell, she is a rotten bitch”

He said. He did not seem worried at all. There was no visible change in his dull expression.

“Poor man.” He reflected after a period os silence.

“Once some one tapped on the door while we were at it. It was him.”

“My God.” I said

“He was not supposed to be back then.”

“You ran away?”

“Where to? He was already in the house and we were shut up in the bed room.”

“Oh my holy gran mamma! What did you do?”

“Well the bitch, she was cool. She said.

Just a second **** is here. I called him you know. We are moving that shelf to the other side. Just stand away from the door.”

“No bloody shit!”

“No bloody shit!”

“Beats everything. My God!”

“We got dressed and moved the shelf making a lot of noise, and came out. He was in the drawing room.”

“I‘ll be damned. What then?”

“I was sick inside and was shaking like a leaf. But the poor guy came forward and shook my hands. I died inside. The bloody bitch. She should be stripped and led on a donkey through the streets and whipped to death.”

I wanted ask What about you? but thought better of it and said

“Unbelievable. He had no doubts at all?”

“None I think, she was my boss you know, and we had some age difference. Poor guy. Very nice man. I had met him once or twice before that too.”

“So that’s the end of it. You stopped seeing her?”

“No!”

“No? You are something, man!”

“She, she was like a vampire.”

I did not believe him. He was like a child. He would not just leave off like that. If the husband was a fool what broke up the thing I wondered.

“But it was she who jilted you isn’t it?”

“I wanted to marry her daughter. She consented at first. I thought I could do them both.”

I looked at him and stood quite. I am not going to shudder. I thought gritting my teeth. I am past such revulsions.

“That was an idea wasn’t it?” I tried to keep my voice featureless.

“Oh she would not give in the end. When I tried to force her into it she called me crazy. She did it in front of others. I was broken. The bitch”

“Bitches, bitches, bitches” I growled. I was not feeling well after we returned that evening.

I wonder if I ever would.












.

The Mystical Bars

I once had this weird experience.

I had broken my arm and it was being repaired. They gave me an injection of some sort. I must say that I disliked it intensely. I have been a control freak. I wanted to be always in control of myself.

Scenarios where I would loss consciousness and would be at the mercy of others never really have appealed to me. I would have preferred to be conscious while they were setting my arm. But they wouldn’t listen to it. And honestly the pain was something I could have done without too.

They wanted me to count to ten after the injection. I counted up to four or five I think and lost consciousness.

The next thing I remember was my totally altered state of consciousness. There was this tunnel which was not actually a tunnel. It was made out of some sort of luminous material with variegated of colors. I was not conscious of my body at all. There was not any such thing. I seemed to be like a point of consciousness with only the properties of vision and mind. I felt trapped inside this strange thing and wanted to get out of it.

I could turn and move and move at unimaginable speeds. I was searching for an opening in the tunnel. I was not at peace with myself. In fact I have never felt so frightened in my life. I thought that I would never come out of it and started frantically to move in any direction I could. The freaking thing would open up an unending tunnel where ever I turned and I would hurtle through it and it would continue without end winding and twisting and elongating. The moment I stopped moving the thing would settle around me or sort of wall me in. I changed courses every now and then. I was conscious of time and its passing.

I distinctly remember of an intense awareness of my existence and individuality. But I did not know who I was and what I was doing in that place. I had no recollection of my earthly existence. I desperately wanted to find a way out and I could not. I do not know how long it continued I can’t say. Then my consciousness came back to me and I was back in the world.

I think that I have written about this somewhere before too. Some thing recalled this experience to me.

Mystical experiences have always intrigued me. I may have had some such in my life too. But I have never taken them in the totally superstitious way that most people take them. I have always felt that if there are experiences that are not normally available to us through our limited perceptive capabilities they at least should be contained in a germinal form within us and everything that we see around us. Unless there is a blue print of the whole world within every atom in the universe they won’t remain connected.

In the last decade there were some reports that mystical experiences could be located to a certain area of temporal lobe in the brain. Scientists have claimed to have produced religious experiences in the brains of those who are not religious by eclectically stimulating this area.

Those on whom the experiments were conducted reported of some ‘presence’ within them during stimulation and the EEG is said to have recorded a “classical spike and slow wave seizure at the temporal lobe” at the very moment the mystical experience occurred.

This is interesting. Certain drugs seem to have the property of altering consciousness too. The experience that I had with one of them, was not very rewarding I must say. Yet it seemed to show some promise in that direction.

There have been religious schools in India that used to relay on a preparation made from opium for achieving such states. The philosophy behind it seems to be that if such experiences could be had without years of training and hard work in meditation and other practices why not go for them. The only problem could be that it would lead to slavery to the drug rather than the liberation of the “seeker” in the end.

But I am interested in the neurological researches into such states. If there is a seat of mystical experience in our temporal lobe and mystical states can be achieved by stimulating the area, nothing could be more wonderful to us than that.
It would considerably lessen the troubles people take to have such experiences and minimize the time to be spent on them.

Who knows, in the future there could be “mystical bars” where people go to have a ‘quick one’!

Any way I am all for the idea. We already have oxygen bars!

Revere human

Sixty five is not very old is it? It couldn’t be I don’t feel that old now. It was not like this before, a fifty year old used to look really old- with grey hair and a tired face, eyes looking terribly ancient and without any sparkle in them.

I have seen such people. I may not be like them. I still feel that I can rule the world.

How the time passes. It was yesterday that I left my home in search of new pastures. New pastures? It’s a cliché is it not?

Well whatever, I can’t bother about that now. I am mourning the passage of years. I feel like I am trapped inside a dry twig which could snap and crumble at any moment. Twig is bad metaphor, but I have to do with that, I have some experience with old and dry twigs, they disappears magically when you pick them up.

An old man could do just that. Turn into dust.

The physical and psychical, both the vehicles get tired. Perhaps they are bored, not tired. And wants to go away, rest.

Fatigue gets to metals too.

Some say after one’s past forty the body begins to shut down. Not that I had any such feeling at that time. But a doctor said so to me. Not about myself of course. My father was lying in a coma with a ventilator attached. He was only 73.

The doctor was trying to convince me to remove the ventilator and let him pass to the other world.

I would have none of that.

The doctor was brutal.

“He is a tired horse. There is no use flogging a tired horse”

I wanted to catch him by the throat and shout at him.

“You bloody idiot. It’s not some fucking horse that you are talking about. It’s about a man, a man who is like you and me. It’s not a machine which you shut off to save fuel and energy.”

I controlled myself with difficulty. I did not say anything and just looked at him and thought him dead.

He must have read my thoughts. He threw up his hands and left. I could not forgive him for what he said about my father. I wanted to punish him in some way, make him see that a being is different, that it has an identity. That every being was unique and can not be replaced.

The guy lying in the ventilator was not an expendable thing to me. I couldn’t artificially strangle him like that and cut off his life breath. He was not even a body to me. He was a collection of thoughts, feelings, actions and their effects.
He was human, and I revered human.
I don’t know if you have you lost some one you love, who has been in your life, who resides in your memories in innumerable forms? If you haven’t, you would not understand what I am talking about. Before my father went I was like god, nothing could have troubled me. I would have taken anything and everything.

Its not that he supported me always. But he was there. Sometimes the mere presence would save your soul.

My brother and sisters were more practical. They decided to cut of the life supply. It devastated me.

My poor father had told me a story about how his father died. The doctors had drilled a hole in his abdomen to clear the clogged bladder. He had expressly told my father not to allow any such procedure on him. He was superstitious and believed that he would die if operated upon.

He died and my father used to grieve about it always. The grand father was operated upon while my father was called away on some important business.

The same had to happen with my father too. He was not afraid of being operated upon. But he had lost consciousness and had not fully recovered. I felt responsible because I had to take decisions for him.

They wanted to do the procedure on him. I wondered why science has stood the same in all those years. I was in anguish. I felt a superstitious fear that he would die of it as he could not obey his father’s instructions causing granddads death. Such fear has no reason attached to it. It’s always irrational.

But I could not refuse. His bladder was blocked and it could have lead to complications. I gave my consent and he never recovered till the ventilator was removed.

No one knows what people undergo at such moments. You need to go through it yourself to know what it feels like.

Now that I am old all these things come back to me. I can still remember that doctor and have not forgiven him still. I could understand his professionalism, but not his insensitivity. Human beings are more than machines are they not?

They may die and perhaps death is ludicrous, especially to doctors, but that do not make the dying any less human. They are not just a bundle of organs, limbs and bones. They are living things, persons, and individuals.

Even the inevitable could be told in civil terms. Not because the one who is dying is any one important, but because that person has lived and life is always difficult, hard, and punishing.

A rundown humdrum thing

A knife was it?

Yet should it have been?

Shouldn’t it be something else, like a dagger, silvery and sharp, violently ready to go through everything farcical to reveal the hidden essence?

As if it is the real actor and all else are subjects.

With a mission of its own, deadly and subtle. Dreaming of flesh, soft fragile, supple and pliable.

It’s not of this world, mundane, life less

It’s made of magic

Defined by imagination

Sharpened by hidden appetites

It doesn’t stay concealed within its sheath

It’s ever plunged

Covered by gore

Caressing gentle substance

Safely home.



No, it was no dagger

It was only knife

It had its reason, it was available

It had immediacy, nearness

Though it was ugly,

Barely lookable, blackened and grimy

Covered in soot

With a blunted edge

And no thrilling point

But it was there

Perhaps for whittling,

Opening cans,

Unscrewing screws,

Cutting cords.

It had its uses, but none like this

It was not fit to kill the goliath

Or god

It had its uses, none like this.




A Knife is prosaic, pedestrian; it has no claim to beauty. It is quintessentially ugly

It is not revered. Its action lauded.

It doesn’t inspire, it dulls feelings, it smells of perspiration. It’s a rundown humdrum thing

Yet it was but that.

A knife, may be it was a pen knife, small with a rounded handle

With a nail mark on one side

Like a small flat fish in still waters

Not seemingly moving

But alive and present.

It has no meaning

Other than it was there

Visible and usable



Yes it was a knife

And nothing else



Note: Nothing summarizes total futility than what happened to Beckett.
I can’t approve of a knife as the final messenger of Godot. But there it was Beckett seemed to have conceded its authenticity.

Pater subliminal

Agreed, I am suspicious.

Well who ain’t for that matter, as America normally votes?

(And America voted- you are suspicious!)

The guy is playing with my life. It is subliminal.

It’s what?

Sub…

Yes

Limi…

Oh come on!

Nal!

What the hell is that?

Its technology dude.

Really and truly?

Do you think I am lying? Bro’ lemme enlighten you, lemme tell you of this indecent, I mean incident. The other day yours this dearly is a’ walking on road. It chirps.
It ips?

Chirrups man chirrups.

And what could that be?

Holy shit, are you for real man? Which is your constituency? You haven’t seen the “Four Rooms” and Tim Roth have you? Listen, in this world there are things which chirrup. Make screeching noises, like beetles.

So it would seem. What was the name of that girl of Lennon? Mia Faro?
Lucy Lee.

Bit young isn’t she?

Brother beloved, I am getting my choler up. You’re going to be the death of me.
Getting a bit wintry isn’t it?

Getting a bit win…….? Wha…..? Hey wait a sec. What the bloody hell do you mean by that?

You said you are about to turn you collar up.

Its choler

That’s what I said, collar

Oh?

Hah.

Anyway it was a sudden and loud chirrup. It got me by the balls.

It does that, does it?

I will let that ride. There was barely a perceptible interval, then it starts up again.

It could do that.

I mean, it’s all about sensitizing.

?

It’s intended to get you by the balls.

Exasperate you?

There is that of course. I mean, man these things occur and you start to perceive a design.

Isn’t it?

Aims to drive you crazy!

Tough eh?

Now he is into subliminals!

The..?

The same.

Tough luck bro’

Couldn’t be tougher.

What does it do?

It sends you hidden texts.

LuceIrigaray Irigaray?

Worse. It’s the pater not mater good god. It deconstructs the sub conscious. It invades your very oblongata man. It reads new content into the existing text in the below conscious curriculum.

Does interpellation occur?

Now, my fried it’s obvious that it is the very aim of the bloody tango.

Should sit and disc-us?

If it doesn’t pro-lapse.

Whew never thought it possible. He intrusive?

He is bad.

Could be the grand dad of Evil you mean?

Knieval.

We chase Aiswarya

The time people spend writing blogs!

And what do I do?

I spend it in typing!

Not that I am creating any thing great.

I go with the first draft to print!

And as Hemingway says

“First draft is shit”

Shit is bad, it is smelly, it is revolting.

Yet shit is fact.

There is no painting shit

If you can’t live with it, throw in the towel, say good bye.

For shit rules.

Shit is supreme

Shit is what life is all about.

Yet why write?

Hell, why not?

You know what unique is?

It is being where no one else is

It is being yourself.

Being original.

Bloody fucking original.

Well yes, even fucking can be original,

As some may know.

No one discusses it

Still we are at it behind doors.

We are minor vatsyayana’s

Casanovas

Honest Salman khans

We chase after the impossible.

We chase Aiswarya,

Luck, windfall, break.

Have you wondered how close these are?

Shit and luck

And how far apart?

Yet luck has something to do with shit

Luck is marketing shit

And succeeding at it.

We don’t discuss it

We produce it on the sly

We pack it in gilt

We display it in nice hoardings.

Once we sell it

We sigh

We even whimper with delight.

Whew, I sold it man!

Stupendous

Prodigious

Olympian

Oh yes you have a choice

You can either sell yours

Or purchase of others

Better sell yours

Give and take

Retribution.

Try flaunting yours

Others might like it

If they don’t

Scratch their backs

That is what life is all about

Getting others to scratch where you can’t

It’s called recognition.

Some call it patting

Pat away

The stimuli are there.

Me?

I will make

And never unmake.

They say

The story, narrative and the text are different

I like making

And sometime narrating

I will leave the Text to posterity.

And don’t leave early dear

I have always been troubled by subservience to authority generally shown by people all over the world.

This is the most perturbing single fact in our lives. Almost all of us are subject to this curious failing, even though we might deny it vehemently if asked about it.

Most of us think that we are free individuals operating in a free society and are capable of making decisions based on our conscience. There can not be any grosser misconception than this.

Strangely our educational levels seem to be inversely proportional to our obedience levels. We would normally assume that the more educated the individuals are the lesser inclined would they be towards obeying orders if those orders are against their beliefs. Yet unfortunately it works the other way round.

They are the most susceptible of all with regard to subservience to authority. In a way this could be guessed at too. The very conditioning they are subjected to during the years of their studies would determine their behavior in such situations. No one can acquire excellence in any field without compromising on principles. Once a person is termed as a rebel his career in that field would be over. So the “wise” always bend over backwards to obey their superiors. Most of us take some real shit before we graduate.

To those accustomed to order people about, this is a known fact. They would be sure that those they want to make use of would obey them implicitly even in situations where the moral and humanistic principles are grossly violated. This is the single most troubling fact of our existence. We are obedient animals, the more educated we are the more subservient we become.

In contrast those living closer to nature are often found unwilling to submit to authority without a fight if their conscience is affected in any manner. They have a freer spirit and would not be troubled by the contempt or disgust shown by other more knowledgeable (Submissive) people towards them because of their inability to obey “responsible” orders.

I can’t quote any studies in this regard as I have not looked into the available resources. Yet I have seen many such ‘country fellows’ in my village to doubt it. They would come up with the most direct and unanswerable arguments to the discomfiture of the know alls who are out to teach them and make them obey.

I have previously mentioned the studies of Dr. Stanley Milgram, a psychologist at Yale University in the later half of the last century, in my blog. The voluntarily chosen subjects of study were willing to electrocute some one just on the assurance of the examiner that he would bear responsibility for what ever happens in the experiment. (Those who want to know more about the study may look Milgrams name up on the net.)

The point is that our perception of our freedom is a myth. The subjects in the Milgrams experiment were chosen fro the general public by advertisement. They all came from different backgrounds. The payment proposed was minimal. But yet all partaking the experiment thought that once they have taken up a task they have to complete it. Any unscrupulous person can cheat us into a similar situation and make use of us to commit any number of heinous crimes on the humanity.
All the Nazi officers were pleading that they were only “obeying orders” and it had nothing to do with their personal feelings. As long as this flaw remains with us we are in the clutches of those who know about. Hitler knew about this human flaw. He was very explicit about it in his writings. He said that most of the people in the world are like women and would obey those who can give them assurance that their interests would be looked after. Most of the leaders know about this fact intuitively.

I feel that we need be aware of this flaw in our natures and consciously try to over come it by raising opposing thoughts to it. There is nothing sacred in this world other than our own freedom and our own inner most beliefs as to what is best for ourselves and others. Laws, regulations, codes and other such structures are not god given or inviolable. If they or the persons who handle them are going against the interests of humanity we need to question them and make it clear that we are against it.
It is also important to note that every law would contain provisions to safe guard the interests of the individuals coming under its purview. There can be no law against the individual as such. It is those who are in the interpreting business who hijack the law to suit their interests. You agree to abide by a set of law provided that it would protect your well being and your social commitments. If any laws or any interpretation of the law prevents this from happening you need to make a stand against it.

Actually those who misinterpret laws are conscious of their guilt themselves. If you make a strong and determined stand against them they would have to back down. If they have misinterpreted the law once they may have done it several times. This would be weighing down on their conscience all the time. If you take up a stand against them they will have to mend their actions to generate popular support. That in itself is a good thing.

Let us suppose that your boss regularly leaves the work place early and insists on the rest of the establishment on working after hours because that is how they propose to run their concern. Should you give in to this insistence? If you do you are setting a bad example for every one.

Question them on their behavior directly and don’t give in to their coercion. You would soon see that the poor idiot conforms to general code from then onwards even if seething inwards. I have seen it happen many times. In fact they are as gullible as the others; they have come up the way of compromises. If you think that you can’t order them about then you are in the error. Just state your point clearly while every one is listening. They would mend themselves in no time.

You see authority has only one opposition-authority itself. Say to your boss that you want to see them just before the shop closes for the day, in the instance that I stated above. There would be some commotion but stick to your demand. Say that you want to talk to them on something important. They will have to submit in one instance. Make it a daily event. You can see the poor slob squirming.

(I won’t advise it if you are too frightened. But actually after some time your boss would be so frightened of you that he/she would be willing to concede any of your demands if you let them live)

Anyway blind subservience to authority could be generally harmful. Let us be free from it.

The Sun Is New Every Day

This poor soul wrote a blog post about Hippocrates and Diogenes some time back. Well who knew it would affect certain others quite painfully. I had no such intentions at all. But it was made to appear that way by certain of my delightful enemies. Well, well, well!

Anyway the whole hell broke loose and some vouch that yours truly was seen running from scene so fast that only a blur was visible even to the keenest of the observers.( it’s involuntary, whenever a situation develops my first reaction is to test the strength of my heels.)

Well anyway I do not know what would happen this time, though there is no Hippocrates and Diogenes in it, it certainly deals with a Greek philosopher. Our Seaweed might steal it and forward it to interested parties possibly. He is very industrious in that regard.

The problems of having enemies to care for you!

You would not believe it. They are even into black magic now. The one thought they have foremost in their minds is about me. I can guarantee you that they do not think of their near and dear with the same intensity.

Well anyway that is another matter altogether.

Of late I am seriously thinking about marketing my brand name “I knew Einstein’ and sitting idle and pocketing all the money from the sale. Any takers? I often have such nice and wonderful dreams too -Living in a multi billion dollar house with a vast swimming pool and all the other paraphernalia. A mini theatre and a bar are indispensible in it as you know.

A top class chef also is a must. I don’t cook anything else than prose now (What prose man? It is gross!). But I like caviar and expensive wines though I have never seen any such in my life. I would like to live a seven star life, is there any more stars than that I wonder? Some might be itching to answer, but don’t, none of this is serious if you want to me to spell it out myself.

Oh god what have I come to!
Coming back to my dreams, I would like to have a limo though there are not enough god roads in our parts of the world to drive them on. Osho had about ninety expensive cars they say. Do I have enough spiritual wares to make it big like that? Who knows!

A chopper would also be nice to have when you are pressed for time. A personal jet would be handy too, if one wants to visit the other countries and spend a few weeks there, just to relax you know. Mauritius and the Caribbean would do fine.

Anyway I am expecting to accomplish all that with the sale of my brand name. (I can’t even laugh at my poor jokes anymore)
You might wonder what all this have to do with Greek philosophers. Nothing actually. Not a single thing.
Haven’t you guessed it by now, I don’t care for the beginning, middle and end and other such shit about writing? I did do such things years back. It was a bore, I am into expressionism now. I think that the shit I write would qualify as timeless world literature. Now about the Greek.

I have been reading about Heraclitus and am impressed by him. He was not a nice man at all and only approved of one philosopher in his time. The reason for his good opinion of the other guy was that the guy thought most men to be bad. Need more be said?

Strangely he believed like he great Buddha that the would is in a state of flux. But along with it believed that the primary force in the world was fire. Fire when cooled becomes water.

Cool.

Well why I am writing about him? Well why not! He deserves a mention like every one else in the world. He also said some wonderful things like

“Good and ill are one “

“You cannot step twice into the same river; for fresh waters are ever flowing in upon you."

"The sun is new every day."

I like the second saying a lot. It has always induced poetic fancy in me. There is some thing infinitely poetic about it -The ever fresh river, as a metaphor of change there is none such.

Period.

Really, who discovered the world anyway?

I read somewhere that a thing called ‘self-esteem’ drives some people to do the craziest of things, even to killing and hurting others either verbally or physically. No one like losing face and most react strongly against those who caused it.

Well I could be the only exception in the world to the rule now. The things that a few bright people have been doing to my prestige have been beyond parallel in the world. I was like a ship caught in a storm (Been never on such a ship in my life). All my sails were torn and my bow was under water and I seemed so far away form shore.

All the subtle elements of the internet seemed to be against me. Every nook and corner hid newer threats (Guy’s, don’t take it all seriously. I am trying to conjure up some words to fill up the blank spaces that I see in the post I am about to write)
The pain and torment I underwent then were unimaginable (Though I know that most of you can and are imagining it at this very moment. If you can’t, think of how Andy Garcia looked in “When a Man Loves a Woman”.

As an aside I never thought a Hollywood actor could do a Mamootty.

( Mamootty is actor nonpareil in our cinema and perhaps in the world. His face is so fluid that it would take you places without you being aware of it. I think only women can emote like him, that is, show fleeting and varied emotions within the space of seconds. And he looks the macho male otherwise!

You need to see movie’s like “Thaniyaavarthanam” and Valsalyam” to know what he is capable of. Even In a commercial melodrama like the “ Pappayute Swantham Apoos.”(Papa’s own Apoos”) with no story line at all he did something unbelievable when he was being told that his only son was fatally ill. He had taken his son to the hospital to check a nose bleed.

I still can’t think of the scene without being affected. From a happy confident father of a ten year old at the top of the world he becomes …….. Well you have to see it yourself and watch what happens to his face and his body to really understand what I am talking about. Writers talk about some one’s face becoming “black”, this guy could do it.

Even guy’s like Al Pacino and Robert De Nero would require digital manipulations to make such things come on their faces.)

Well coming back to my pitiable predicament, I used to toss and roll around in my bed trying to calm myself (I suspect I am over doing it now. Yet let us give in to the current mood. This can’t harm any one can it? It may even cheer up some Seaweed’s. I could picture them strutting about to morrow).

The way my heart beat on those occasions (I too have a heart, take heart my dears). The tears I shed (I have an eye condition; it waters every now and then.)
Huh?
Any how, being a very courageous person (*whimper) I battled it out with myself and survived. Some are still singing ballads of my great struggle with the unknown forces.
And I naturally mused, (This musing has nothing to do with the muse that I usually speak of, she seems to have completely deserted me of late)

- Well as I was saying I naturally mused that the world was a very cruel place where good people like me have to suffer always. What kind of a world is this, where sincerity and honesty has no place? Really who discovered the world anyway! Because of our very goodness we are being laughed at (You have to pretend that you believe all this, you know, it is an aesthetic responsibility on your part)

Anyway I need to heartily congratulate myself on my great self control. I held on to it even when I felt like it was trying to go on a tour some place. (That is, on every moment)

If you want to see the current disciple of the long dead Mahatma Gandhi, just come and see me. I am the only existing practitioner of non-violence now. Bring your pills though.

For you might have an apoplectic fit in the process, yet as you know nothing ventured nothing gained. You are seeing the only man in the universe who seriously thinks on non violence at present.

But don’t expect much by way of the “half naked fakir” dress code. Though I would have liked to go stark naked even, unfortunately none seems to have a high opinion of the said dress code in our land. It is only practiced in the Himalayas (Himavant as per T.S Eliot and his Waste Land) at present. Tough guys them, those Sanyasins. It is said that there is a totally sub zero ‘culture’ at those frightening mountains.
Anyway I have a different dress code.

You might even find this modern Gandhi wearing the dress of ‘sayipp’ (Sayipp = sahib, sab, sire, we the poor Indians once used to call our European masters thus.) on a very limited scale.

Our own Gandhi wore European cloths at one time I think. Later he wove his own dresses. We don’t need to do that any more. We have the Mumbai mills to weave our cloths now. If the world permits we would fill the world with cloth.

Well that is the tripe for today.

How the Guru comes into your life

There could be any number of tales in which an Indian boy leaves home in search of his real Guru. In reality life it self is the greatest guru you can have or more precisely your guru visits you in many guises unknown to you and leaves you instructions. This has happened several times in my life. I would speak about the first such incident of real importance that happened to me.

I was having a ball with my life in my youth after my studies were over, roaming our countryside drinking toddy and arrack and smoking weed and doing whatever came to mine and my dissolute companions minds. It seemed good to be inebriated all the time without having any responsibilities what so ever.

I did not believe in god and my reading had convinced me that the life is a meaningless phenomenon to be suffered till it ekes out of you in some way. It was a long wait for Godot (As Beckett says) or death and the only thing you could do is to fill it with pleasurable activities. There could not be any possible world after this and even if there was we would not be the same in that world, with the same problems worries and fears.

Spirit or consciousness or whatever there was would not have the same desires and the same materials to work with in the other world. So why fear that our deeds have an effect on our after life and forego whatever pleasures the life offers you. So I continued with this style of living till one day I found my father sad and broken about my way of life. He was telling my mother of the expectations he had about me when I was born. It wrung my heart though I thought myself to be immune from such feelings armed with my out look of life.

Perhaps it was after that I became troubled by a nagging doubt that this was not the life I was really after and I could not sustain it for very long. But I did not know what to do about it.

I went on with my lifestyle and kept out of my father’s sight for the time being.

Then one day as we were sitting in the shade of cool plantain trees waiting for our agent to turn up with the inevitable bottles of rum, one of my companions quoted a religious verse.

Some one had said “Narayana” while sitting down probably in derision. It was a name of Lord Vishnu who sustains the world.

The verse immediately followed.

Narayana ennu sada japichchal papam ketum pasi ketum vyasanangal theerum

Its meaning was that if you go on repeating the word “ Narayana” it will destroy all your sins , hunger and would do away with your sorrows altogether.

The one who said it was the grossest character around and would have no thoughts about spirituality at all. He was just repeating some thing he heard some where to show off before us or to say something interesting.

Strangely it struck home in me.

I got drunk after that and was quite inebriated when I reached home but the verse held and would not go away. I was not religious then and never was for that matter. I rarely visited temples or prayed in my life up to then though both my parents homes had temples in their premises. Perhaps the over-religiosity of the two families had driven me away from religion altogether. Perhaps it was further strengthened by my reading.

Any way in the next morning a curious thought came to my mind. If the name of “ Narayana” is so powerful why not try its potency by repeating it for a few times just as an experiment. I had no real idea what the name actually meant other than it was the name of God Vishnu. Now Vishnu, as depicted in posters and calendars was totally anachronistic with his yellow dhoti and the ancient weapons that he carried in his arms.

For the world I could not guess how an ancient god like him could do all that the people believed he could. This was the world of nukes and supersonic jets and space travel. What could a poor Indian god do to help you in it? Yet I wanted to check it out too.

I stayed at home that morning resisting the temptation to go out and get drunk. I did not know the times I should repeat the name to complete my experiment. A thousand looked not enough; ten thousand looked more like it. I decided to repeat the name a hundred thousand times to make sure that it could produce some effects in the physical world.

Now I needed some proof that it has some power.I thought hard. What do I want to accomplish with it?.

Well I had this habit of dreaming with my eyes open, some what like the character of James Thurber (in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty I think). It had proved to be the greatest impediment in my life. I was ever going into day dreams and was always vacuous than I really wished to be.

I decided that I would recite the name a hundred thousand times at the rate of 5000 names per day and would complete it in twenty days. If the name had any efficacy at all I would like it to remove this curse from my life. It appeared to be reasonable project to me.

I dropped all else and started on my adventure immediately. When I mentioned it to my mother she gave me a string of beads which was used by my grand father for the purpose of keeping count. I soon found out that completing 5000 “Narayana’s” in a day is no easy task. One, after some time you begin to wonder what you are doing, the name becomes a meaningless sound and two it conjures up images that are absurd and laughable.

Being unaware of its real meaning( Nara= water, ayana= journey , because water is considered the source of prana the life force, the word actually describes the movement of life force in the universe and its mover Vishnu. In fact the word Vishnu also has a similar meaning)

I would unconsciously break it in to two parts of nar, aya = filaments in my language and ana which is the stem of a plantain leaf in my mother tongue. The combined effect was that I was picturing a Plantain stem turned into its filaments during my japa. It would either irk me or make me laugh inwardly. But I persisted with the effort. It was only later that I looked it up in the Seed-word-thesaurus in Sanskrit and learned its real significance.

As I said I persisted and after some real hard work completed it on the twentieth day.

From the fifteenth day onwards I felt the curse of my Walter Mittyness departing from me. Any how it has never really troubled me since. And those twenty days at home also got rid off my companions of those days, and I began a serious effort to get back into life.

May be the name had nothing to do with it at all. It may have been the mental effort and discipline that had done it. Yet it all came of the words of a dissolute character. This surprised me at that time. I have listened to hundreds of wise saying in the past but none of them struck home. But his words did and reformed me.

This is how the Guru acts. He came to me then through the words of that no good bum. What the guru does is to point you in the right direction without you being aware of it. The trick is to watch out for the instructions and act on it. Actually the guru is within you. He brings things to you. You need not search for any guru in life, anything ( sathyakama was advised by all the elements and animals he came into contact with)anyone can be your guru.

'Glass Bits'

When I was idling after my studies and all my good friends had already been employed and were at other places I often found myself in the company of certain unruly characters in my village. They were very basic in their approach to life and were totally linked to the desires of the flesh. We had studied together at school and were all known to one another.

It was not a posh school and children from every conceivable back ground came to get educated in it. It was the democratic period of our educational theory and practice. Every one was provided with the same educational opportunities and it was up to the students to do whatever with it.

Well we of course did much better at school than others from the lower strata of society. We went to study further and as most of my friends did by that time, went on to become employed. I was too lazy to sit for competitive exams and was thus was left behind by my friends. I never wanted to be employed in my life.

I was all for the adventure of doing nothing and my father felt rather strongly about it. There was some friction at home over it and so I had to escape into the open before my father warms up to the subject every day. I would slink out through the back door early in the morning and would spend wherever I chose till sundown.

I had light years of time at my disposal and no deserving friends to share it with. I did not know what to do with it. All the time they were there, those that the people call losers and I was drawn to their company out of boredom.

Nothing great could have come out of those friendships, but being ever the unwise character I went along with it. Perhaps I had some thoughts of getting a closer look into the lives of those below me in the social scale. Any way other than receiving a few rude shocks about what happens at that level I was not provided with deep insights into human nature by it.

We almost always visited toddy shops in the neighboring villages. (Toddy is a week alcoholic beverage made out of taping coconut palms and culturing it in giant earthen or wooden pots. I don’t know how the culturing process take place, but I have drunk a lot of toddy in those times. )

Going to the neighboring villages was for my sake. I was the son of the manor and can not be seen drinking lowly toddy at my village. At one such place my companions played a prank on a poor black smith. It was about noon and we were alone in the toady shop having a good time. The toddy is very week and you would not get high on it even if you drink gallons of it. It would come in small earthen pots and it makes a lovely bubbling noise when it is place before you.

The black smith came in just then. He was probably out to relax after toiling hard at the smithy all morning. Immediately he was seated and was served my companions winked at me and went out.

Now the toady shops are little thatched huts. There would be a row of benches and desks on the two close to the walls. The walls are made of bamboo mats or thatches. You can hear what goes on at the other side of the thatched walls like you are hearing it face to face.

The black smith had sat on the opposite side away from us. My friends moved to a position on the other side of the thatched wall directly behind him and began conversing in the slurry tones of the drunk.

“I don’t believe you” One said.

“I can prove it to you” The other said hotly.

“No way, that can’t be possible” The first one was adamant.

“I say to you that it is true”

“No way”

“It is made of iron I tell you”

“No no that can’t be possible”

Now our black smith was unperturbed until he heard the mention of iron. Even then he took it bravely.

The conversation progressed. I did not have the full dope on the situation and was as curious as he was I must say, and was eagerly waiting further developments.

“Ok let us check it out” One said.

The other agreed hotly.

“Let us”

“What if he is not wearing iron underwear?”

The first one demanded.

The black smith choked and spat out the toddy he was drinking and started coughing. He was becoming alarmed and was looking behind him wildly.

“Then I will do what you say” The other said.

They were both making noises as if they were going to come in through the door for the examination. Now absolute panic struck the guy and the moment my companions moved away from the place behind him he went on all fours and burst out of the shed through the thatched wall and ran for his life.

I could not help laughing. The poor guy’s face was absolutely going to weird places!
My companions came in laughing their head out. They had run after him a little distance.

Well these were one of the minor pranks of those irrepressible characters.
Of course the barman was not amused, but he only remonstrated.

“You are hitting me on my tummy” He said morosely. He did not even demand money for the spilled toddy

These companions of mine were known as ‘glass bits’ in our locality. A piece of glass lying in your way (we don’t normally wear shoes in the village) would cut you up every time. If you try to pick them up to chuck them somewhere there is a chance of getting a cut on your hands. In short you avoid having any contact with such “glass bits”

Well really, what is wrong with being cut up now and then?

Don't want to do a Yayati

Since I seem to be stuck with this blog till the worlds end I think I can’t manage with out a change in strategy. I am running out of ideas too. I haven’t written anything for years and years (not even a letter mind you) when I took up the challenge to write something every day for a period of six months.

Well I did not do that bad at it considering the odds I was up against. In fact I was having a whale of a time doing the silliest of things with the blog and was keeping my wonderful enemies interested too.

Then the inevitable happened. I forgot what the blog was about and side tracked.
No wonder, the moment I ‘intelligently’ (god save me from such intelligence again.) involved myself with the common net- life a subtle change had come over my sworn enemies. They are currently encouraging me to do more such intelligent deeds. They are even openly enthusiastic about my intellectual caliber and the extent of my knowledge and the like.

It has come to this, to being patronized by my deadly opponents!

Well I seem to have some ‘idiocy’ left in me still and have been managing to hold out from such temptations again. Once has been enough.

The internet is the playground of the young. People like me, who have begun their slow slide towards the inexorable, have no business in such a young environment.

Not that I am totally wizened internally. I could even be younger than most of the “Young and Serious” dears on the net. But that is another matter altogether.

Like Yayati in the fable (He gave his son his empire to rule in exchange of twenty years of son’s youth) I do not want to usurp the dreams and exploits of the young. In fact I never wanted to. I had clear notions regarding why I was starting a blog. I should have stuck to it.

I am past that age which hankers after fame and money and influential connections. I may go for them if I had a point to prove even now. But at this late juncture of my life I have little to prove to any body.

Well what is the use? One becomes disillusioned with the world after one is over thirty I think. Not even success has the same sweetness anymore. Oscar Wilde intuitively said it all when he wrote “The Picture of Dorian Gray”.

We all project our younger selves into the world even when we are old and wizened and keep our real selves behind doors in the attics of our minds. Wilde had the delightful talent to convert the sordid in to the sublime.

[A story has it that the Byronic Mr. Wilde was asked if he had anything to declare at the immigration counter and he replied.

“Nothing but my genius” and walked out.]

Unfortunately I do not have that too to declare. If I had I would have been terribly bogged down and would have been tottering along (probably much respected by the rest of the world) with the whole weight of the universe on my shoulders.

Well any way, as I said I seem to be stuck with blog now and have to do something to keep it going.

I require a strategy to cook up something every day. This is not in expectation of any further readership at all don’t mistake me. I have now the entire readership I intended when I started the blog. But yet I have to give them something to puzzle over every day. That’s becoming trickier every day.

I am not the proverbial juggler of the ancient who can conjure up anything out of the thin air. Yet I have had a go at it more or less. I have tried the most prosaic to the poetic and the most honest to the cruelest and the most sublime to the weirdest in my search for topics. They still keep my exclusive readers interested.

Only they could know what I was writing about. Mostly every piece would have some reference to what had passed between us on a daily basis.

Even though we have this antagonistic relationship with each other we are still trying to please each other and keep ourselves engrossed in the game.

Well what else is there in life other than these little games?

They help us to pass the time.

Ancestry

For those who have no ken, most Homo sapiens have

“dho haath hai”

-Have two dangling non-prosthetic limbobrumbo’s. I mean hands.

Don’t ask me how many hands the other species have. There may be as many hands as there are organs for all I know.

Just leave me out of it.

The bother. I would rather not touch upon it (on it?)

I recall something from my student days.

“Don’t you dare!”

A girl says to my friend.

“No problems” My friend says.

I see his hand magically reappear from some where.

Not even a slight flush on his confident face.

We were both sitting and the girl was standing in the narrow gap between our seat and the next seat in the bus with another girl. The bus was always over crowded in the evenings.

I was holding her books and bag (and the books and bags of every girl in the neighborhood, being the nice guy. They came up to my chin; I could barely breathe and move my limbs.).

I was not out to please them by any means.

Once they see my face and they dump every bloody thing in my lap. Being mates in college and being from the same locality I could not chuck them out of the window too.

So I bore it like many other boys do.

Silently.

It’s a bloody curse, being decent where one should not be. It comes of a strict upbringing. My friend was better off. He came from a family of libertines.

He thoroughly enjoyed his evening’s escapades in the bus.

Even today I can’t understand what pleasure he got out of those little intimate incidents in the bus.

Perhaps violating something is sweet to some minds. I had other views on them then.

Girls would smell good in the mornings, but after a day of collage in the tropical climate their hygiene invariably goes down a notch.

(Most of the girls wear their hair long. In the heat their heads would sweat and the hair would get plastered on to their backs dampening the back of their dresses. They would start to sweat profusely. The sweat-damp hair is no funny thing to withstand.

You can bear one of them if you try your best. But being surrounded by dozens of them is tough.

At such moments the only thought I ever would have is to “escape” as a funny character in one of our movies keeps shouting through out the movie.)

But that friend of mine reveled in those situations.

Did I lose out by sitting idle when anything could have gone in those days of my bus rides to college and back? I can’t say. Even conductors collected the fare from the foot board as the students would be so tightly packed inside the bus.

What if I was a libertine?

Some girls might have said “don’t you dare” like the one who put my friend to his place in the incident. Well he said that was because he broke an unwritten rule. Nobody touches the girls in one’s own class. He did it on that day.

He could not pass a chance up. Strange guy (Or perhaps I was the strange one as some discerning souls would no doubt discover! In these wonderful times unless one is thoroughly sexist one can’t live).

He is married and is running a family now and admits his mother in law is the “goods”

You see god has long been dead.