It all started with this idea of growing wise (no wonder those four jutters are known as wisdom teeth). My parents took real good care of my dental structure so that the appeal on the face maintained itself. There was this one tooth (obviously the dumbest of all wisdom tooth) in the lower right hand portion of my jaw which aimed a bit too high and propelled out at an angle. There was an unprecedented hole that formed between the pre molar and the tooth where all the rut used to rot and their family started clocking population exponentials. A dentist did warn me about the dire consequences but me and my overconfidence didn’t hold long, I had to show it to another one after 2 years by then the fortress of the enemies were built real strong. I had got a route canal done to one of the pre-molars, now the effect of toothpicks damaged that tooth and bedlam broke loose. I consented for a local anaesthetic surgical extraction of the devil of a wisdom tooth. The operation, I thought would be a small one so I didn’t take any one with me. The doctor got on with his job and my mouth weighed over a ton, lord jesus’ crucification walk was revisited, my mouth was gushing with blood. Lo and behold! I heard a nut crack in my mouth – the tooth refused to surrender and broke in half. The doctor used all his days of weights and gymnasium training and dug in to excavate the remains of the dodo of a tooth. I gave into the pain and went into a trance. On waking I was supposed to fill the pockets of the doctor who made the lower right half of tooth a cotton plantation. I paid the bill and walked to an autorickshaw and was intercepted by the protocols of being seated in the auto, the driver said, “Sir, wear (where) your shoes”. I realized the pain made me float in the air, I trudged back to the battlefield and picked my shoes and walked hand in hand with them.
For a week my food pipe was cleansed by all possible liquids and ice-creams became the Pharaoh’s curse. I was done for, I vowed not to go to that dentist again. During the 4 months respite between Jabalpur and Mysore, I got myself a memorial bridge constructed within my mouth at Gangtok. To this day the bridge stands and would for a long time to come, but everytime a soul touches the hardened base of the bridge, they feel the shivers run down their spine and in a bid to escape fear they plunge right into the doom of my stomach and out from the colon as nothing but mangled waste.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Monday, April 03, 2006
Impressions
It was another struggle deep within oneself. Fighting it out, though one wasn't upto it. Fighting it hard and fighting to no end. That grit feeling of confidence oozing from every cell, contributing and coupling with a fight in which one was dragged. In such times of strife one's capabilities were given the acid test . He kept breathing without a blink of what went on.
Gadgets desperately trying to record movements within him but unable to draw a clear picture. His life was not dear to him but to many who kept him dear. All foes turned mellow and his supine form and the curve of a smile melted many a hearts that opinionated him. He was oblivious of all this, he himself wasn't aware of where he was and what he was. A figment of thought or something transcedental. Bordering on the shores of life and death, he was merrying with the times again least aware of it. Where was he?
Many came and patted his hand, ran their fingers through his tousled hair which wasn't washed. How particular he was about his crop. A soul touching it would invite wrath unmatched and things would turn awry. Now nothing, not even a twitch of the finger. Just silence with the occasional beep. That hand which was a guide to many was now lost and resting. Where is that energy? Which made it sway with grace mesmerizing not only the near and dear but strangers too. It has been over two months since he was rendered immobile. His horrifying blunder brought him down to this fight for sustenance. Was one error so costly that he who meant the world to many was now valued more than ever. Death, dark, defying and dingy loomed over, with the passage of time. It was a coma and the red factory was pumping forcing the hope factor. A person with a perfect posture while standing was rendered to a spineless state.
Providence in the fall of a sparrow was correctly mentioned.
He was to succumb to the wrath sometime or the other. How people, who saw him splayed on the road, narrate - A shaking and utterly battered form gave out one last cry of desperation and was still thereon.
So much for silence, the beeps changed their timbre yet he did not move. Hey just lay therewith that smile. All were stunned when things were declared, he had given up. Yet the smile was there, what a sight it was- a body bandaged from head to toe save the jaw-line and the dental structure exuding the smile. He was no more, but he lived on in everybody's minds (even yours now)!
Gadgets desperately trying to record movements within him but unable to draw a clear picture. His life was not dear to him but to many who kept him dear. All foes turned mellow and his supine form and the curve of a smile melted many a hearts that opinionated him. He was oblivious of all this, he himself wasn't aware of where he was and what he was. A figment of thought or something transcedental. Bordering on the shores of life and death, he was merrying with the times again least aware of it. Where was he?
Many came and patted his hand, ran their fingers through his tousled hair which wasn't washed. How particular he was about his crop. A soul touching it would invite wrath unmatched and things would turn awry. Now nothing, not even a twitch of the finger. Just silence with the occasional beep. That hand which was a guide to many was now lost and resting. Where is that energy? Which made it sway with grace mesmerizing not only the near and dear but strangers too. It has been over two months since he was rendered immobile. His horrifying blunder brought him down to this fight for sustenance. Was one error so costly that he who meant the world to many was now valued more than ever. Death, dark, defying and dingy loomed over, with the passage of time. It was a coma and the red factory was pumping forcing the hope factor. A person with a perfect posture while standing was rendered to a spineless state.
Providence in the fall of a sparrow was correctly mentioned.
He was to succumb to the wrath sometime or the other. How people, who saw him splayed on the road, narrate - A shaking and utterly battered form gave out one last cry of desperation and was still thereon.
So much for silence, the beeps changed their timbre yet he did not move. Hey just lay therewith that smile. All were stunned when things were declared, he had given up. Yet the smile was there, what a sight it was- a body bandaged from head to toe save the jaw-line and the dental structure exuding the smile. He was no more, but he lived on in everybody's minds (even yours now)!
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Nature-I
The fear of walking into the dark is an issue that remains pending to be pondered over. Pitch dark with no glint of light from any corner. All your eyes can do is scan all around in a circle to see nothing, if there were no sense of direction you would go astray. Terra Firma feels dearer almost like it was you sole hope. The pupils have gaped to their maximum; you can only force them such that they tear apart. Light is what you yearn for and feel that the dimmest of them would be a soothsayer, one that would increase the count of your dependency, the terra firma would be pushed back in its value and that dim ray would notch up its value and you eventually do, but you hear some voices..........
"
Terra Firma:
You seem to be nothing, I envelope so much you're taking over me.
Ray of Light:
Hey, I didn't mean to do so, can I limit my extent? You only see a part of me but I extend further. Come where I am and see my existence and expanse. I have a stronger hold because you bank on support, and I support supports.
Terra Firma:
You really seem to be haughty and prejudiced, don't I keep you aloft, if not for me and my support the gravity who mark you, isn't grave in the least, where would you be?
Ray of Light:
Don't know how to address you but let me call you Firm-og. Listen, you are confined within the blanket above but I come bounding from places far away and need none of you to keep me aloft. It is for your mortals that I come here.
Terra Firma:
Firm-og, what sort of the name that is? How about I call you Rol-at? You're sure true with what you said but try penetrating into me and what lies beneath me. You've been of great service by keeping those who trudge on me (scorn me, spit on me and always kick me) happy. I really don't understand why but in places you take your cover of them and instill fear in them.
Ray of Light:
Rol-at anything dear compatriot, call me anything. I am with them always, we must be together in thoughts. I might be insignificant in your trudger and your eyes but in a few hours I am going to be all over you. Your value is on me, your looks are highlighted by me. More you support more you are valued. Just being in mass doesn't do you good, I provide the needful and you bloom and bossom. The mortals appreciate you.
The mortals do have their ways, it was bequeathed on you to be the way you are. I suffer, I suffer the pangs of being restricted without my knowledge I get cut out by the menial of clouds, I, in the modern age am just a finger's push away and yet I am silent. We do get our releases-you tremble out of anguish I brighten out and char and yet our charm holds.
Terra Firma:
I agree, you sway my thoughts, indeed you have much more experience. I'm ever bowing to you but in the bargain I have stooped forever. I do have the jutters on me but they are few and negligble in height.
Ray of Light:
Soft Frim-og, your complaints are all valid but remember you are in every mortal on you, they become a part of you in total submission. They are you and you are in them. They fall upon and unto you. You are the actual ruler.
Terra Firma:
True it is and all that you say ascertains your stature. In this harmony we must dwell and our conversation being kept apart, let us return to the mortal who sparked the conversation and show him what life actually is.
"
He moved on hurtling towards the ray of light in search of life ever giving and bestowing.
"
Terra Firma:
You seem to be nothing, I envelope so much you're taking over me.
Ray of Light:
Hey, I didn't mean to do so, can I limit my extent? You only see a part of me but I extend further. Come where I am and see my existence and expanse. I have a stronger hold because you bank on support, and I support supports.
Terra Firma:
You really seem to be haughty and prejudiced, don't I keep you aloft, if not for me and my support the gravity who mark you, isn't grave in the least, where would you be?
Ray of Light:
Don't know how to address you but let me call you Firm-og. Listen, you are confined within the blanket above but I come bounding from places far away and need none of you to keep me aloft. It is for your mortals that I come here.
Terra Firma:
Firm-og, what sort of the name that is? How about I call you Rol-at? You're sure true with what you said but try penetrating into me and what lies beneath me. You've been of great service by keeping those who trudge on me (scorn me, spit on me and always kick me) happy. I really don't understand why but in places you take your cover of them and instill fear in them.
Ray of Light:
Rol-at anything dear compatriot, call me anything. I am with them always, we must be together in thoughts. I might be insignificant in your trudger and your eyes but in a few hours I am going to be all over you. Your value is on me, your looks are highlighted by me. More you support more you are valued. Just being in mass doesn't do you good, I provide the needful and you bloom and bossom. The mortals appreciate you.
The mortals do have their ways, it was bequeathed on you to be the way you are. I suffer, I suffer the pangs of being restricted without my knowledge I get cut out by the menial of clouds, I, in the modern age am just a finger's push away and yet I am silent. We do get our releases-you tremble out of anguish I brighten out and char and yet our charm holds.
Terra Firma:
I agree, you sway my thoughts, indeed you have much more experience. I'm ever bowing to you but in the bargain I have stooped forever. I do have the jutters on me but they are few and negligble in height.
Ray of Light:
Soft Frim-og, your complaints are all valid but remember you are in every mortal on you, they become a part of you in total submission. They are you and you are in them. They fall upon and unto you. You are the actual ruler.
Terra Firma:
True it is and all that you say ascertains your stature. In this harmony we must dwell and our conversation being kept apart, let us return to the mortal who sparked the conversation and show him what life actually is.
"
He moved on hurtling towards the ray of light in search of life ever giving and bestowing.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Phasing the day
It is a lull that besets when one has ample time. Well that just struck the note whether amplification of time is actually a harmful thing- sitting doing nothing makes one realize that one is getting vestigial, not only in thoughts but in action. I need to motivate and I do that every morning taking a deep long breath but when I walk out the environs play pranks against me. That gleaming droplet of sweat that breaks out signals the start and then surrounded by the dust and filth I trudge. It becomes a rat race, everything goes against you but you still tend to pull on because you have no other choice. Why isn't everything in life a multiple choice question?
Once you are seated you have the tremendous pressure of not doing anything and feigning that you are at work and have to be so, you can't prance around tear your clothes and hair and howl at the top of your voice. You can't afford all the gadgetry to keep yourself entertained. You can't always have people around you.
In all these moods the one thing dear to you turns out to be slumber and whence you set in to that world you are bound to get back to reality with a start because, the practical and prudent you is always alert and reminding. It leads to regrets and retrospect. You yearn for rest and a solace and that too never comes by. It is always mundane and cold and slaps you, your wants pull you to an abyss where you yourself loose sight even if you are blind, you lose the sight of thought. Ah sight of thought lost, you are oblivious of everything you are in a trance, you meditate. Contemplating on all that has been running on you cutting through your mortal self like a saw and shredding every form and piece into rugged elements. You rise not from ashes, like the phoenix, nor from the dust but from the battle with you, you rise out like a lone shining star visibile only to you. You feel that surge of confidence, flowing with a craze to propel you out of this disdain state. Everything is in unison to make you ready for another day.
Give it a thought, the stranger you frowned at, also went through the day and faced the same and he too would be liberated at least for a wink of a moment and both of you trundle on the rickety roads with inertia and momentum realising that the day has drawn to an end and you have another coming tomorrow and the worried warrier will wake up to the call yet again and keep you going.
Once you are seated you have the tremendous pressure of not doing anything and feigning that you are at work and have to be so, you can't prance around tear your clothes and hair and howl at the top of your voice. You can't afford all the gadgetry to keep yourself entertained. You can't always have people around you.
In all these moods the one thing dear to you turns out to be slumber and whence you set in to that world you are bound to get back to reality with a start because, the practical and prudent you is always alert and reminding. It leads to regrets and retrospect. You yearn for rest and a solace and that too never comes by. It is always mundane and cold and slaps you, your wants pull you to an abyss where you yourself loose sight even if you are blind, you lose the sight of thought. Ah sight of thought lost, you are oblivious of everything you are in a trance, you meditate. Contemplating on all that has been running on you cutting through your mortal self like a saw and shredding every form and piece into rugged elements. You rise not from ashes, like the phoenix, nor from the dust but from the battle with you, you rise out like a lone shining star visibile only to you. You feel that surge of confidence, flowing with a craze to propel you out of this disdain state. Everything is in unison to make you ready for another day.
Give it a thought, the stranger you frowned at, also went through the day and faced the same and he too would be liberated at least for a wink of a moment and both of you trundle on the rickety roads with inertia and momentum realising that the day has drawn to an end and you have another coming tomorrow and the worried warrier will wake up to the call yet again and keep you going.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Cross overs!
It happens so many times in life that you are in limbo. A limbo that demarcates the success from failures and when in that limbo, you are practically handicapped not knowing where to steer yourself and more than often cross over to the side you never wanted to be in. Tasting the mud and grovelling in the sands with your face all stained. Stains so permanent that they transform into scars which eat into you forever and a searing pain that rips your being apart yet you are not dead.
A craving to get to the other side becomes a part of you and instead of that you yearn to get back to the limbo to make way to the side where you see success shining high. It is visible and most of the times stares you at your face, jeering at you and making you realise that you couldn't manage it.
Well for once you do make it over and see how green the grass is solely becauseof your absence and overwhelmed you heave a sigh of relief but ready to go back to the limbo and make your way comfortably back this time and it's your turn to carry the scars aloft and show that you are made of mud that is quintessential.
A craving to get to the other side becomes a part of you and instead of that you yearn to get back to the limbo to make way to the side where you see success shining high. It is visible and most of the times stares you at your face, jeering at you and making you realise that you couldn't manage it.
Well for once you do make it over and see how green the grass is solely becauseof your absence and overwhelmed you heave a sigh of relief but ready to go back to the limbo and make your way comfortably back this time and it's your turn to carry the scars aloft and show that you are made of mud that is quintessential.
Friday, February 10, 2006
The S factor(y)
It's such a wonderful way in life to start a day with the freshness of the morning and to end it with the wariness of the night. Yes I am attributing the adjectives to the hours of the days just as an escapism and elevate the stand of the human being!
In order to compensate to the heavy post of last time I had decided to write the next post only when I get a gimpse of success. Now there is a clarification to make, for me success is not a measure which is evaluated or puts me ahead of others but it is a source of satisfaction, that feeling deep within which induces confidence into every cell and you can brace against all odds yet again. Yet again? yes, you are right yet again because after every even number comes an odd number and so the cycle will continue to eternity. The moment you feel you are happy and things are going your way, be ready the tables might turn and the milk will be spilt turning you into a cat to lap up and make good of the milk. That's optimism and in no way a pessimism.
In all this don't forget to make hay when the sun is out, enjoy those thrilling moments of success (which I read satisfaction) and feel good about yourself.
Humour derives itself from the Human(pun intended)!
Right now for me life is good and to continue with this feeling I need to be good to life!
In order to compensate to the heavy post of last time I had decided to write the next post only when I get a gimpse of success. Now there is a clarification to make, for me success is not a measure which is evaluated or puts me ahead of others but it is a source of satisfaction, that feeling deep within which induces confidence into every cell and you can brace against all odds yet again. Yet again? yes, you are right yet again because after every even number comes an odd number and so the cycle will continue to eternity. The moment you feel you are happy and things are going your way, be ready the tables might turn and the milk will be spilt turning you into a cat to lap up and make good of the milk. That's optimism and in no way a pessimism.
In all this don't forget to make hay when the sun is out, enjoy those thrilling moments of success (which I read satisfaction) and feel good about yourself.
Humour derives itself from the Human(pun intended)!
Right now for me life is good and to continue with this feeling I need to be good to life!
Friday, January 27, 2006
Pain
Had started this blogging long back but the break has been a real big one. Have been pulling through life and training is what I am undergoing right now. Its been over four months since I was initiated into this training and it just seems like there is no end. I thought I was good at software but I have come to realize that the thought was just another reference to the vast repository of overconfidence that I seem to have picked earlier. I am always made to grovel in and taste the mud and realize that I am nothing but a big loser in life.I don't understand how and why people conclude that I am a fighter or an optimist. I see myself unfit for any of those roles as well. What an irony, overconfidence has made me realize that in effect, I lack confidence. Another analogy to add on to this is that, I thought I was no loner and had good friends around me, but now I realize that I am not only the loser but a loner as well. That hollow feeling deep within makes me immediately jump on the fact that things are slipping away and the lubrication is so much that ultimately the brittle objective shatters into pieces and I am down with a long face yet again. Oh the pain is severe and the loss of blood has ceased because there is none left. I am always at the brink of losing out on a well constructed platform, irony is the word that ensconces in any endeavour of mine. Is it the Ire-on-me that leads to this irony in my life.
Pain is what I ultimately gain out of everything. In spite of all this overconfidence and optimism OOze out of all the wounds to put me back on track and make me realize that "it is never too late".
Pain is what I ultimately gain out of everything. In spite of all this overconfidence and optimism OOze out of all the wounds to put me back on track and make me realize that "it is never too late".
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