Posted by: R!P | April 16, 2010

.. On perceptions and reality

Once upon a time, long long ago ..
Was done a test, in the town of Hithero ..

Here I tell the tale of the test ..
So the questions on me, be put to rest !

There were four blind men who lived in a small village. They generated energy, generally electric. They were dedicated hard-working folks, honest to their work, dedicated to their service and in constant pursuit of truth.
One day, there came an elephant in the village. All the villagers were amazed at the enormity and strength of the beast. The blind men also went to the fest. Upon reaching, they took to different directions across the animal and started to describe.
“It’s like a rope” said the one near the tail.
“No, no, it’s like a tree, definitely like a tree” replied the one touching the feet.
“Oh no, what are you guys talking about, it’s like a fan?” The one near the ear replied.
“I am stuck with fools. It is like a sword.” cried out the one touching the teeth of the elephant.

Which of them is true? can you say ..
A rope, A sword, A fan or A Tree ..

It’s all of them or none, be it may ..
As it’s their perception, not reality !

P.S – Inspired by a biased opinion !

Posted by: R!P | April 14, 2010

If .. and why

Antean looked off the cliff at the setting sun, “One day, I will be a soldier.”

“Never say that again.” Nicol burst out. “Taking up a sword is the final act of desperate men, when all else fails. For all wars are about vengence, and to forsake your life, for another’s cause is utter disdain to god’s gift.”

“Oh, but bravery never goes unseen. A soldier is held in high esteem, in both life and after. And a soldier fights for his own cause, his own faith.” Sara was livid with anger. “A nameless face for life has no worth, you live and you die for the self, a shame to one and all.”

“And a faceless name on a memorial is worthy? I wonder who even remembers the ‘martyrs’, but for their hungry children and their helpless wives. For one’s own faith, one need not fight out, as the war lies within.” Nicol was adamant.

“There are two kinds of men in the world, ones to take up the mantle and live with their heads held high, prepared to fight for their beliefs, And ones who pretend to care not because they dare not .. ” Sara retorted. “You have to take a side, what you will be.”

Antean turned as both the alter-egos awaited with bated breath for his response, and with a contorted smile replied.
“I will be an engineer. For then, I won’t have to decide without data, won’t have to tell without facts, won’t have to bear the fruits of my deeds .. for then it is not my instinct that will count, but my skill. And skill I will acquire for everyone can .. I will be one of the herd.”

Nicol and Sara jumped off the cliff and the soul-less engineer walked off. His results were out. He cleared the JEE ..

Posted by: R!P | April 8, 2010

Did you hear …

In class III, I used to believe that NEWS was the acronym for North, East, West, South. It sounded clever, almost grown-up. It said that NEWS gives the complete picture, it covers all directions and perspectives.
I liked it better than “News is the plural of ‘new’.”, which dawned upon me in due time. This knowledge deglamorized news, yellowed its aura – if I may say so.
This was a time, when news was within its time – when you found about the day, after the day in the nightly news or in the morning newspaper. In front of a discolored screen, came and sat a middle aged balding man, “reading” news. And then came Aaj Tak. Breathtaking, fast-paced “news enactment” ! And it claimed to be sabse tez!
There were – and have been – sprouting distant and near cousins to Aaj Tak, congesting the 24-hour day with as many channels ! Further degradation has been prevalent ever since, what with, today morning, a prominent news channel showing a four blocker screen with equal coverage to Sania-Shoaib-Ayesha menage-a-trois, the IPL tamasha, Inflation-marred common man and the naxal uprising. Mere gossip, fanatical sports, national calamity and plight of the man .. all in a single view !
I wonder how the viewer keeps pace with the changing expression of news-reader and news. So, from now, it is not the news, but the views that I heed to – both mine and of others ..

Posted by: R!P | March 17, 2010

Dream And While

He awoke suddenly, with a parched throat, a sweating brow, a deep beating heart and something crawling on his legs. The cockroach was inching its way up his calf. He felt disgusted and shook it off with a loath that was bound to creep up to his mind during the day. He looked outside the window, it was almost morning. The orange sheen of the emerging sun slowly eating away at the dark. The cockroach’s carcass was withering against the wall, creating a shadow, a dark shadow of hatred. This hatred accompained him every day.
He often wondered why he plodded on, why – for a dry piece of bread and a glass of cheap rum at the end of the day, he was killing his soul, ever so slowly. Why did he not leave? He was not always like this. There had been a time, when he was so aware of the strength in his arms, the power of what he was doing. He felt like the hands of God, carrying out his job. giving out justice. He never looked at their faces, never long enough to see whether there was remorse or fear or emptyness or resignation.
He covered that face with the black cloth and pulled the lever. That was his job, God’s work. He just saw the sin, never knew the sinner. Untill, one day, when he could not bear to pull the lever, for the face behind that veil of death was his own. He was an executioner, an honest executioner and even, today he would not deter from what has to be done.
He awoke suddenly, with a parched throat, a sweating brow, a deep beating heart and something crawling on his legs. It is just a dream – he soothed his inner self and just brushed the cockroach away. I am no sinner, said he and picked up his toothbrush, off to another day.

Posted by: R!P | March 10, 2010

This too shall pass

K.S – I saw a happy man, and that too when I was not.
And how I wished to deny him, the happiness that he got.

R – It is natural, is it not ?
Happiness for self, is seldom sought.
It is sorrow of others, more often than not,
That causes merry, when it is brought.

K.S – But then again, if he is sad ..
I would love to make him glad ..

Is it possible, what you say ?
To make it happen, and not just pray ..

R – I can do it, give me a ring
And happiness to sorrow, it will bring ..

Also, whenever you are sad,
It will make you happy and glad ..

K.S – A ring it is for this young man,
Lets see him do, what he can.

And R scratched the ring, King Solomon was mad,
but as soon as he looked at it, he became glad !
For the ring said,

A message that keeps you on the ground whether you are in seventh heaven or buried under gloom !

Posted by: R!P | March 8, 2010

The doc says ..

Contd from here

I am in the front of his office. Dr. Naitik Pradhan

“Is the doctor in?”
“Yes. Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes, I do. In the name of Saumik Rajan.”

I never give real names at my psychologist’s office. It’s a safety net. A pre-emptive strike against madness. The doctor knows me in person, but not my real name. So, even if I am mad, he doesn’t know whether its Saumik or John or Rohit.

The painting on the wall is an illusion. It is a window that opens into a window that opens into a window. The sort of 3D pictures you get in e-mail at work every other day spending your 20$ an hour day glaring at a computer screen, fishing for work worthy enough, or people worthy enough. I love it.

Black Cushions, a couch, steel grey tables, shiny glass tabletops, dark musty curtains, and a rocking chair. That is predominantly all of it. There is sheen all over. I am afraid to touch anything. The couch looks like it has never been sat upon, and if I do sit here, my ass-prints will demean its eternal silent beauty of sorts. The place is flawless. At one-and-a-half-thousand rupees an hour, I too would have a flawless office ! I would. I hear the flush sound from the adjoining rest-room and the doctor emerges.

“Hi, Doctor? How are you?”
“Burp!” Naitik let out a repulsive burp.
“Chicken curry for lunch” I thought but did not say out loud. That is a problem with psychologists, they think all humor is a defense mechanism, or attention-seeking means. But, some humor is just for the sake it, hilarious quips on others for a personal smile !
“I am well, just a little upset stomach.”
“Ahem, try Pudin hara. It helps me with my troubles.”
“Okay. Can you spell it?”
There I was spelling a stomach ache medicine while shelling 100s of rupees on an hourly meeting that was supposed to help me ! Darn.
“So, Saumik, how have we been? How do you feel? Have you started the treatment?” And he pored over the prescription from last week looking for what had he prescribed for my non-bizzare delusional disorder. It is a rare disease, equivalent to mind-fuck. I am slowly losing the distinction between reality and illusion and apparently should cycle – yes you read it right – to cure it ! I mean, cycle .. pedaling a cycle cures my mind !
“I am feeling better doctor. No crashes or insomnia attacks over the last week. I have been cycling and it does help me focus.” I told him what he should hear. If I don’t get treated, I don’t get free. Any price is small for an hour of free mind ..

Posted by: R!P | February 22, 2010

The villany untold ..

He was whistling, merrily driving away, on the calm sunny morning, content and happy. It had been more than a month since they were together, and he loved her company. Just being around her, he would spice up, energetic and full of life. The passion in him had been ignited. They would spend endless nights together on the silent calm streets of bangalore, unmindful of the patrol, engrossed in each other. And today was the first service. He adored his bike with an intensity that knew no bounds.

Life was a merry-go-round and he could feel the resounding echo of the whirling engine on that clear calm day, oblivious to the evil designs that were hatched in that sharp meticulous mind. The volvo sped up without him noticing it, its red symbolic of the villainy that lay underneath it all. He ignored the black devilish smoke, the astounding speed with it caught up to him, he was engrossed. And in the rear view mirror, suddenly appeared a splendor, a Bajaj splendor – mind you not the adjective, the noun, not the joke, the clown. It was over to his left. They had surrounded him. He tried to peer into the eyes of his adversary, but couldn’t, his gaze averted by the antiglare glass on his helmet. And then, he swerved to his left as the bus swerved to its right, holding him abreast, unable to move out. He was shocked, so much that he even whispered the shout !

S.B – *smile, smirk smirk* (thinking).. of all the interviews to be, and pink bandages !
S.S – *agony, pain* (thinking) .. of all the interviews to be, and pink bandages ! (realizing) *smile*
S.B – *agony, pain* (thinking)

– Dedicated to the hair-line fracture that wasn’t meant to be ..

Disclaimer – The plot is fictitious, I assure you. All characters are unreal, even their names and feelings are totally made up !
Believe me, this is so far-fetched from reality – reality is like a dot, not even visible.
It is untrue.Period.

It is a joke, nothing but a joke.
Alas .. but thats the irony ! Please mind not.

Posted by: R!P | February 19, 2010

Out of my mind

S: Hopeless.

R: What do you mean ?

S: The ending, there is no ending. It’s empty .. it feels empty. Utterly meaningless.You ramble on and on, and just let it be .. you have to have an ending.

R: I hope by ‘you’, you mean the story. I would most certainly dread my ending !

S: Yes, the story. It’s absurd. It ought to have an ending. I would rather start with an ending and work rears ..

R: I tried that, then the story had no begining.

S: Absurd. It has to have a begining, a middle and an ending.

R: Why? I don’t want it that way.

S: But everything in nature has a begining, a middle and an ending.

R: And so I despise nature. Will you publish it or not?

S: Are you out of your eff-ing mind? (points to his head with a finger, suggesting madness) I would not at any cost.

R: Ok, and by the way I am out of my mind. Don’t make fun. Ever.

Posted by: R!P | January 18, 2010

The first report card

I was browsing through old books at my home, the first one where I was born, tempered with incessantly, constantly teased, experimented upon, basically brought up – and I came across my old report cards. Now, I know I haven’t done much to brag about since then, and it was a long long, really long time ago, but the narcissist in me urges to put it up. I know, no one will bother to read or comment, so – ‘ibn-e-batuta, bagal main joota’ – that was just to remind you that this phrase is as meaningless as my post !

Posted by: R!P | January 13, 2010


“Oh, Happy Birthday”,
Said she, all glee and gay …

“So, how many years, you say,
Your hair I see, so many gray”

“Will you please stop rhyming,
There’s an age for these things

And by god ! Excellent timing
the joy that your voice brings ..

Alike a wasp or a bee
The buzz and the stings ..

And about the age, I don’t say..
If knowing it matters or not ..

All I can do is .. to almighty pray ..
That more than whats gone, I have got.”

Said I, with the coffee I pour,
A couple of days to twenty-four ..

A new year, may it be sweet not sour ..
May the pain be on the face, not at the core ..
May it bring peace, harmony galore ..
Oh my, what shit I have in store .. πŸ˜›
Its difficult to rhyme with 24 .. !!

P.S – I challenged myself last year when I wrote a beautiful piece (yes, modesty is not my biggest virtue) on the day which I repeat below .. I know I have become more centric this year, yes both physically and mentally, the eccentricity just seems to be wafting away, out of me .. This year I plan to work on it & oh, on the gray hair too πŸ˜€

When I was 23 .. I wrote this.

As he looked out of the window,
he saw light..
It was to his heart,
a pleasant sight ..
The gloom surrenders
To a future bright ..
He saw hope and strength ..
No struggle no plight ..

Was it the truth,
Or a bright seduction ..
He wondered if,
It was just the reflection ..

His hand raised to let it free
To face what was of him to be.
And that is how it feels to me,
As I turn 23 .. !

And nothing happened. So, now I just stop looking for meaning. I am growing ..

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