Me: Finish eating first! Cannot breathe and swallow at the same time.
Me: What?
Me: Trying to eat bread with a fork? Look, all the crumbs are scattering on the paper and table. Dirtying the paper. Write with what? With a fork in the tongue?
Me: There is no fork in my tongue?
Me: Finish eating first. Have been eating for quite sometime now. Too much eating leads to constipated thoughts like these.
Me: Hey get it straight! Why don't we write tonight?
Me: Look, there's something in your mouth!
And these days, there's always something in your mouth.
Reading and writing are like breathing and eating. Read too much, and not pause to write, or write too much and not read are for a while pose equal threat to the steadiness of the hand. The first might lead to no thought, while the second leads to superficial ones. Empty the plate often, and wash it dry. The film of staleness shrouds the fine crockery art.
Noun: A noun is the name of any place, person or a thing. This is what I learnt when I first learnt English constructions.
A noun is a word used to name a person, animal, place, thing, and abstract idea. Nouns are usually the first words which small children learn.
There are many different types of nouns.
Proper Noun: You always write a proper noun with a capital letter, since the noun represents the name of a specific person, place, or thing.
Common Noun: A common noun is a noun referring to a person, place, or thing in a general sense. A common noun is the opposite of a proper noun.
Okay that should be enough. Other nouns don’t concern me at present. I just want to ask you what noun classification you consider yourself in? Now before you bare your weapons are tongues at me, this is aimed at a particular group. Yes, the blogger pals who don’t mind capitalizing their names, or ‘I’s. Please, it might not affect you, but I think it gives an impression of self estimation and ‘esteem’ation. It’s your first benchmark for me at least. For the love of the language, and if not for its sake, for the sake of identity, don’t be common nouns. Rather, be proverbial for someone if you can be. Come on now, you can be that too.
In the past, I have met a few people. People who’d mean nothing more than mere names. We meet them every day, as passerbies, daily wagers hired for some work, or just a name flying around in the hot summer air? Let’s say, I have met many rohIT’s, mohIT’s, sohIT’s and mudIT’s and many other names. Let’s say, I have met many who are just ‘IT’s to me. Now mind it that they are different from the Rohit’s, Mohit’s, Sohit’s and Mudit’s who are proper nouns to me.
That’s all for now, or maybe too much for a naïve to utter.
A strong sense of identity gives man an idea he can do no wrong; too little accomplishes the same.
~ Djuna Barnes
She keeps the secrets in her eyes
She wraps the truth inside her lies
Just when I can't take what she's done to me
She comes to me and leads me back to paradise
She's so hard to hold but I can't let go
I'm a house of cards in a hurricane
A reckless ride in the pouring rain
She cuts me and the pain is all I wanna feel
She'll dance away just like a child
She drives me crazy, drives me wild
But I'm helpless when she smiles
~Back Street Boys
There will be no introductions, there will be no names. Let a single word stand up to the whole ensemble of the myriad plethora of them. Let the word be ‘She’, let this be for ‘Her’, and if it is you, then let it be for ‘You’. Is She my friend? Probably not. Do I know Her, no I don’t think so. Does She know me, most probably, not. Hence I take the liberty to talk today.
This is for Her who puts up a brave face. Not because She is happy, but because She dumps Her negativity in some places at night, or before the next day begins. Some places She calls, ‘Her Blog’ or ‘Her Diary’. If you sift through those pages, there is no pleasure, no signs of it in the present at least. You might find some smiles in the distant past, but even during the penning of that past, the past’s past contained happiness, and that past contained only negativity. Be it yesterday, today or tomorrow, she’ll always talk of the past. Why, because happiness was expended throughout the day and negativity never found a way out, so the ‘Her Blog’ is basically a trash can. And why do we, the people flock there? Because Her love is a symphony even when the strings air only melancholy. This is for Her, because She dumps Her negativity there, and never cares to look at its aftermath. There, Her negativity is incinerated into ashes, which many readers carry along unconsciously, the part they have had a share in or felt touched.
This is for Her who wants to grow up and rewind in the same thought and breath. Not that She is the only one, but because She pouts more thinking of what She has not, which is very small than what She has. I know Her and I don’t know Her, sometimes it is frustrating. She’s a darling to many and She can’t take it, why? Because She thinks this is what people do to other weak people, because they are weak and need support. Gosh, She has a high head! She wants to be loved, in secret. She wants to love secretly. She likes dangling between the uncertainty and the surety, like plucking the petals of a flower one by one, ‘He loves me’, ‘He loves me not’. Oh, look at Her smile when ‘He loves her’ and look at the hope with which She picks up another flower when ‘He loves her not’. To Her, because She is confused but hopeful nevertheless. Girl, there will always be a jerk, (I’ll call him so for making you wait even if he were a ‘arte de perfecto’) who won’t be that weak in the knees, who might hesitate to say those three words to you, just don’t cry when he really does, he wants to see you smile, the way you do when ‘He loves you’.
This is for the girl, who laughs a lot. Not because You have a lot of friends and what they mean to You, but because of what You mean to them. Your ever lasting smiles make You an easy choice to be friends with, and You being a constant chatterbox ensure an engaged company. But girl look out if Your smiles are being taken in the wrong sense as are taken too often. Beware that Your ease to befriend be taken as desperation by many, too easy for them, too naive. They speak both high and low of you. And when they do, I sincerely wish that You find someone for once (and let that once be forever), who’ll look beyond that smile, into You. The world might be crippled with degraded thinking of misusing God gifts, but it isn’t devoid of good people either. Don’t trust too easily, wolves dressed as sheep run amok. Don’t let Your smile be defiled and devastated by the infidels who are just waiting in the shadows, bidding on your benevolence that You’ll just run right into their lair. This is for you.
I've heard bad things about the city and i'm told that they're true
Better watch out for those guys out there they're gonna hit on you
So don't talk to no strangers - no it ain't your style
Don't give up when the chips are down - just turn around and smile
~Bryan Adams
And this is for Her, who doesn’t know what it is, this place, to me. I just might set this place on fire someday, so that it remains untouched, unharmed, in peace.
I ain't lookin' for prayers or pity
I ain't comin' 'round searchin' for a crutch
I just want someone to talk to
And a little of that human touch
~Bruce Springsteen
P.S.: Maybe I would write of more ‘Her’ and more ‘You’ and more ‘She’, but not today, not now.
P.P.S: Do take the liberty to use a ‘He’, ‘His’, ‘Him’ if you want to, the ensemble comprises of him too.
आज कुछ असमंजस में हूँ कि अभी कुछ देर पहले ही तो परीक्षा कक्ष में कलम से कोरे कागज पर किसी और का ज्ञान अपने शब्दों में व्यक्त कर रहा था | नीली स्याही में एक रात पहले का बटोरा हुआ ज्ञान, सब उढ़ेल दिया, अब कुछ किंकर्तव्यविमूढ़ हुआ सा इस गणक यन्त्र को ताकता हूँ | कुछ लिखना है? शायद नहीं, आज थोड़ी ठंडी हवा में भ्रमण कर स्वास्थ्यलाभ कर आते हैं | बस इसी जोश में आज न लिखने का निश्चय कर अब बाह्य दुनिया कि सुध लेने निकला हूँ | आज नहीं लिखने का मन है, और मन को मनाने का आज मेरा मन नहीं है |
Summary:
After having scribbled in the examination sheets today the shallow knowledge gained overnight, I am in no mood in gathering my thoughts to write sense. The breeze is enchanting and the woods are calling. I think I’ll take your leave today.
·The slurp sound of sucking air they make before any liquid intake actually happens. I’d burn my lips from the heat than savoring the taste in that fashion. Eventually, the sip contains more air and a little liquid.
·Scratching of metal.
·The sound of a snoring SMPS fan, especially when they start making new sounds.
Aesthete:
Pleasurable most of the time
The tapping sound of the shoe while walking.
The no-sound bliss of a summer noon. No birds, no wind. Complete stillness. Bliss, harmony.
The sound of flowing water when listened close. I’ve done it once, but there is music to flowing water even when we are underwater.
The sounds of horns, except intermittent horns in traffic. Please, I wish I could just step aside and let the road runner behind me pass through.
The smell of petrol, gunpowder, eraser fluid…see? that’s why I don’t fuel my desires, I know they are not very healthy.
Happy Deepawali to all of you lovely people. I like the sound of the rockets whistling on a Diwali night!
Do share with us, what sounds annoy you, and what weird tastes you savor.
I: How did you know it is me, I had not knocked yet?
Master: As if you don’t know! Well, you have some questions, don’t you?
I: Ah, you know everything. Then do I need to air my thoughts, you already know what I seek.
Master: Well… yeah… I created you, so of course I know it, but then, why did I create you in the first place? If you keep asking questions in your mind and only I do the talking, then what fun would be it? I did not create ye all to hone my commentary skills.
I: Okay, okay… I got the point.
Master: So what troubles you this time?
I: You know me, random things concern me most of the times, and I need to run to you most of the time for the answers. This time I was thinking…about judgment….
Master: Soo…What about it?
I: Well, when do we get to decide? And when do we decide it fairly? Being human, it is very complex to decide between the heart and mind. Reason, is often derived from experiences, but then, all experiences are novel in themselves, looking alike, but all different. How do we get to see things, while staying unrelated to them? Like seeing from the outside?
Master: Young one, what makes you think so? What troubles you?
I: Master, you have stayed alone for a very long while, you know how things revolve when we start looking at things from our past, when we are alone. Family, friends, people we’ve met, incidences, decisions, regrets, faults, happiness, successes, everything, every deed no matter how trivial it might have seemed back then, rises from somewhere, like a chest of memories has just been unlocked. Let’s say, I also got some free time to kill.
Master: Well thank Me for my being lonely, or else you could have never made it into the world. Rather, this world wouldn’t have been there. But yes, I get the point. So, why do you want the answer to it anyway? I forgive often for follies, don’t I?
I: Hah, you kidding me? You sit behind these curtains and don’t allow me in. Always saying that I have a long way to go, and when I am trying to arrange for some transportation for the journey, you are puncturing my tires by this hypnotic talk? This isn’t fair Master! You forgive because You, are You, Our Master!
Master: You are such a baby; I was just trying to wiggle your cheeks, they are sooo… human!
I: That’s not funny, I am a baby anyways. Do you want me to throw in a tantrum or you answering me straight?
Master: (Sigh) Judging is not a very enjoyable experience. It forbids you to let any emotion from indulging in what you intend to judge. Like a glass sheet. You need to be aware of everything around it, and still remain aloof of everything. You should feel no pain, no pleasure, no feeling at all when you sit to judge something. It’s like being an aggressor, ruthless, always looking for weakness, fallacies, and at the same time, searching for the good points. It’s benchmarking against your own self. You cannot judge what you have no idea about. To be rational, you have to do away with pain, pleasure, emotions and regressions, and to judge, you have to be at least one step above of it.
I: So what about us? No one can be like you, imparting justice that is really, just. Our prejudices hold us, our hearts sway us sometimes. How can we rise above that? They say that when in conflict flip a coin, as it gives time to know what we wish to see.
Master: Oh I see, I gave free will to men so that no one follows the rulebook. This saves me the pain of drafting one. This thing called heart, though another faculty of mind messes up with this free will through emotion. And for that coin flipping, I would suggest using a blank coin, the one with no options.
I: How? I mean how are…
Master: Now I ain’t here to spoon feed you with every answer, am I? I have given you a head start, now you wade alone. I’ll just recline and watch you learn. Use your brain, child, the brain feels no pain, neither pleasure!
I: Whaaat? But Father, that…
Master: Blasphemous, Leave now, there’s work unto you, be blessed and wake up now, its day break.
But hope, sometimes is more nauseating than frustration,
“I am with you, my friend”, No, this cannot be,
Because the blame is all his to take,
He knows it, and I can’t lie
So I distance myself from him.
I don’t feel anything, am I a hypocrite?
I wield different faces for different people,
I sympathize to him, and I feel somber,
On the next curve is revelry, and all is over?
I avoid him, a friend; solace is all I can give to him,
When he is troubled and I feel suffocated,
I can’t face him, because then I have to face myself,
So I distance myself from him.
It was written quite long ago, when there had been such situation. Its incomplete, and I don't think I would be put words into it neither improve what I had written before. And I don't feel like its poetry and won't be tagging it in that category either. Its a conversation.
I felt shackled, for being so minute, for being just equal to nothing. People sympathizing with the sufferer, and still not helping him in the way they could have, just because it might endanger their reputation or they may enter wrong books? I feel it’s better to fight on the friend’s side, on the side of righteousness. At least in the end, there won’t be any guilt that I did not try. I know I may falter on my own sayings when I say this, but that is something I loath myself for. But at least, I feel guilty of treason. What about others, who watch like mute spectators during the showdown and boast of deepest philosophies and principles?
A perfectionist, who has never done anything perfect yet! Even during the nine months that he spent inside his mother, he was busy experimenting with different angles of entry into this world. Eventually, he ended up in coiling up the umbilical chord around the neck. The immediate outcome was the distortion in one ear’s shape, which slightly elongated in the process of straightening out the curl.
Blessed by a brain that took motivation and praises as fuel, he understood only when taught with soft words and appreciation. One slap out of the blue and it washed away every bit of information he possessed with the tears he tried not to show. Fortunately, his mother understood this quite early, when he was learning to write the number ‘3’.
It was the lust to reach to the next level, to do everything to perfection drove him. Not a very bright student, let’s say, an upper mediocre. Brought up in a small hilly town, his parents brought him all luxuries that they thought appropriate. Teachers helped him indulge in extracurricular activities. He obliged, performed satisfactorily well. Acted, danced, recited, mimicked, sang, orated, debated, studied and managed a good score in every field.
Cheated, only to realize its vanity and decided to avoid it. Tuned to the theories of discipline, he found it hard to make many friends matching his type. Circles shrank, and the walls grew taller...
For those whom Blasphemous has allowed into his circles, this is all that he might not have shared before. So next time, they may not hit back to read something they already know in the same raw form as he likes it to be. For others, you may stay tuned. Oh, and 1 more thing. Blasphemous invites you to ask questions here itself, as they are more easy to answer after a deep thought and much more easier to write in plain language.
