An apology

Well, it just so happened that I was a bit ..too open in the last few posts I posted on this blog, Which isnt necessarily a bad thing, as I was given to understand, if one is writing in his diary.

But as it turned out, I wrote it on a publicly accessible domain, and one of the posts happened to have my name on it,so if you happen to google my name right now (as one of my esteemed friends did, but unfortunately he/she chose to remain anonymous when he/she brought it to my notice) the first link is the one to my blog, which I might add, is good enough to cause a miniature heartattack to decent folk, specially the last few posts.Humor, as some wise man must have said, comes in flavours, and I briefly forgot that though my posts are meant to be humorous, they might be viewed as offensive.

Ergo, my deepest regrets. If I have, by virtue of being too lewd , hurt any sentiments/feelings, my deepest apologies. Though I must add, that I personally dont see much harm in writing freely, though writing under your own name isnt always a good idea in a civilized society. Nevertheless, my sincerest apologies to anybody to whom its due.

Last but not the least, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Mongrels and other lazy procrastinators

Well.... so here we are again... I must tell the fictitious reader that I am deeply concerned that I am over shiting on my own blog.A shithouse can also be taken beyond repair you know. Why , I still remember the days when this place had a beautiful mahogany panelled...whatever..you get the point I suppose
.
Which brings me to the question, Why do we blog? It is, as many might (or might not) agree , a fad these days. I mean cmon. You honestly dont believe the bare your soul shit to the heavens shit? And even if some one were indeed baring his/her soul in the understood sense of the term, whatever would make some one read it. Here I am not taking into account the not so infrequent occurence of making your friends go through your blog with a beretta cocked at their temples (I being an eminent practitioner par excellence of this dying form of art) Indeed, In the words of Ace Ventura , "Denial can be a dangerous thing", something that you understand in its full glory only when you find youself in similar circumstances , with a cold hard steel barrell sticking up your arse. Whatever.
.
Those who do not blog on the other hand, find it a highly tiresome and gruesome and obnoxious (dear, whatever happened to my vocabulary) actuvity. But well, in the absence of good quality Females and/or pornography (good quality too) , what else can one do? Its a sad situation to find oneself in. Lack of females at this juncture in ones life can be deadly. When you have Hormones pumping through your veins (sorry, I flunked Biology) or wherever they are s'posed to be pumping through, you need an outlet for your carnal desires. well, almost literally, you need parking space. Well whatever. I can almost visualize some decent peace loving folk who might have ventured out onto these unchartered waters getting a heartattack of sorts at the level of detail I am going into. Well, i'll make it short and sweet . We all need SEX . A simple three letter word, but dangerously effective at quelling the need to blog.
.
Well.So where were we? Yeah, why do we blog. Oh well, coz we have nothing else to do...thats why. What did you think eh? I wouldnt suppose that we can fill in our dearth of good quality women, or good quality pornography by writing. Well, I dont suppose that women would fall for a guy because he can write (though lemme tell any girl who is reading this, and this is not self advertising or anything, that I am oozing in the primeaval sex appeal that is so necessary in order to take the sequence of events that eventually lead to ...whatever... or maybe more than one whatever. If you are good baby, I can help you get three or four whatevers..whatever). Oh well. see, nothing happened..not even a phone call to check whether I am worth it or not...damn
.
So now you see, why we blog? Because we are free-males. Not that we like it (aw shit...I hate it in fact..bitch) But well, whats there next to getting laid or watching some one get laid by a playboy playmate ? why writing about it of course. So there you are. We are rabbits residing in a happy world filled with nasty grey wolves, which I am sure is not too uncommon..whatever
.
ps: Anybody with good quality porn? I dont watch horses and human girls, or men and bitches, or elephants and 13 year old asian brunettes or whatever. I find it most disgusting

Munnar

I recently read a very illuminating article that compared blogging to fellatio. Apparently , the basis of the comparison, according to the autor of the blog (my face has a jim carrey like expession at the moment) is that both are ego boosters...so the aforementioned gentleman finds it imperative to denounce both varieties of hypocrites .

No, I dont know the person. I invite you to hunt him down , if you have the time. Recently , I saw a big debate on Youtube between some guy who claimed that hes the biggest porn star of the century and another who ran some kind of e-porn church.....Some anti porn site....That guy claimed that he is a "Porn Parish", and was supposedly passionately against porn...whatever, The civilized world is a real wierd place...heaven knows how we keep ourselves from going insane.

So recently, I went to a place that I was happy to find hasnt degenerated into a grotesque masquerade, as most things in our lives have indeed. The place is a remote tea plantation town, nestled about 5000 feet above sea level in Kerela, called Munnar.I am very sure that the rate at which they are cutting trees, there soon wont be any left. But well, thats besides the point. I probably never have breathed air fresher than i breathed while I was there. The fact that the breeze smells of tea (a very faint tinge of a smell, maybe even psychological) is merely an extra factor. I have often seen people (in movies and all) standing on a peak and spreading their arms and breathing in the air. I am always insanely jealous of people who get to do all these things... So I made it a point to climb as high as I could up a particular peak (which lay within a Mountain Goat reserve I visited) , and though I didnt make it to the top , I must say that it was breathtaking.Why, I even got a Nilgiri Tahr to pose against the scene of miles around ;))

Well. I am meandering, but I cant help it. For example, have you ever drove into a cloud while listening to Misty Mountain Hop? I assure you that it did indeed happen to me, and when I have finished convincing you that it really DID happen, I have also to tell you that it wasnt intentional. I just happened top be listening to some arbitrary playlist on my way to Munnar, when the car drove straight into what from a distance seemed to be a cloud some way above the road. So I was actually shocked (more like alarmed) when I suddenly saw that the car I was sitting in was driving staright onto that cloud, and moreover, it wasnt all that high at all, in fact it seemed to have totally gobbled up that section of the road. And well, you wont believe the next coincidence. The song finished just as the car was emerging from that cloud pocket. And the next song on the list happened to be Stairway to Heaven.

Did I just say that wierd things do not happen to me?

Well, since I am positively meandering, I will stop doing so. "Keep them short" one of my friends told me recently in relation to my blog posts. So I will.

And besides, if I am to believe Mr.Egotistical-Baboon-Catcher , I am merely posting this in order to boost my ego. I'd love to meet him one of these days

It is really exasperating to think of a suitable title to afford people aglimpse into what you have written!!!!!

I dont know why...

I just got an urge to write now...... I just happened to watch Runaway Bride awhile ago...a dose of mush after nearly three months of self imposed deprivation . I am not too sure lack of mush is necessarily a good thing for me, given that I happen to be a really mushy creature.

Ok...enough of this candyfloss yarn . I was just wondering about poached eggs and ponytails. I was thinking, that maybe having an above average vocabulary is not as nearly good a criterion for writing well as... well... as knowing how to write well,maybe? Or maybe writing what you feel about.

You see, thats the problem. The problem is that nobody reads your blogs until and unless its readable. So you write (ok I write) what I think what other people would like to read. But I forgot rule number one. The first and only rule of writing. You see, civilization, among other things, despoiled and laid to waste the immensely beautiful facts of nature,

And Imagination was one of them. When a dog barks on the streets, its because it has a discretely definable set of needs. Needs. Yes needs essential to its survival. But Human beings had something more. there was something more we were endowed with. Behavourialists viewed this extra thing as purely quantitative. So they said. animals can think. We can think more. So dont be too surprised is in the distant future, Humans plough the lands, while cows flog them.

But humans have something thats not discretely quantifiable.
Humans have Imagination.

But you know what, Since time immemorial Nature has attempted to bridge the great divide. Through our urges to impose uniformity on something thats essentially non-uniform. Its precisely our disciplining bent that makes us animals.

Yes siree.. So giving in to your primeaval instincts is not proverbially "Unleashing the beast". Trying to fit each and everything to the protype IS INDEED. Look at the animal world. Its ruled by order.Discrete order.
Dogs have certain howls when its hungry,certain others when its in pain. its just stimulus to response
Look at the animal world. Isnt it ruled by order?
deer eats grass. tiger eats deer. Would you believe me if I told you that I saw a deer eating a tiger?
You wouldnt, and I wouldnt blame you.
But would you doubt it if I told you that i imagined a deer eating a tiger?
See? Who tells us what we can think and what we cant?We can imagine as we wish

You know what? If indeed 1984 happens , Then it would be a demise of mankind far worse than George Orwell ever thought possible!!! For we would no longer be men. We would be animals.

And thats what I saw today.I had a revelation. Of sorts. I hope i'll have far clearer transmission when I recieve the ultimate revelation of my life . Heaven was cloudy today. So, to be very fair, the transmission wasnt that clear today. But I got the message fair and clear.

Dont write for others , a white winged creature seemed to tell me . I mentioned the white wings because Specifying only the wings of these ubiquitously invisible creatures has in fact led (in the past) people to believe that I am referring to annoying little pests. And they say ,"Dont listen to pests. Just spray a bit of Baygon on them. I have some at my home. You can take it home , and return it when you are finished. Thank you. Hallelujah."
And off I went on my pest extermination missions.

But I have seen today. I know who the pest really is.The pest , like what its feeding on, is in the mind. If the cabbage is within, how can the insect be without? No. its all in the mind. Its this annoying little pest, this li'l tendency of dechaosify chaos thats really the pest thats been feeding on my imagination. When I want to think, I think , but not what I was thinking, but about the words I am gonna use to make it look it more presentable.

Now, I no longer wish to make it ultra presentable. Just for the records, Its more of a letter to myself, a letter of apology to the creature I had kept in the darkest of dungeons in the remotest alleys of my mind. Yes, this is a letter of apology to my imagination. Who I have chained, poor creature.

Chained to the dark, Chained to the sky, The deep blue sky. U can see its silhoutte against the dark blue sky. U can see it writhing in eternal agony, A dangerous beast moaning in pain. Its dangerous, because if on the loose , it can lead to your isolation from humankind. Its really awkward. Humans are defined by the ever holding principle of "Cogito Ergo Sum". And yet, you feel at some level, that "jumping in the bandwagon" is, ironically, also what defines humanity.

So if you aint religious, U are a potato, if you were living in the 13th century.
If you dont write what ppl wanna read, you are an insane goat to be tied to a neem tree with a barbed wire in todays world.

But you know what? Its a sacrifice I make gladly. Hordes of demons and fairies, hellish jalapenoes and cloudy candy floss, fairies seen by the minds eye and nightmare that take you eyes out, await me.

Dreaming world beckons. Sandman throws sand into my eyes. I fade away.

If I died now, I'd die happy. I have rediscovered my best friend. He was just under the nets I had placed for him myself. but now i'll cut the ropes. I have my best friend back. mankind aint friends with me. So I cant help it if mankind finds me boring or wierd or any other thing like that , thats mankinds concern , not mine.

For i'll write as and what pleases me from now.And since we've gone a long way in proving that there is nothing called mankind , and identifiable human emotions and all that silly shite that really dont matter,Mankind can just as well go to hell.

Hallelujah

Stuffed squirrels ,cracked mirrors and other Shite

Its been a very long time since I blogged. More than a month to be precise. It isnt as if I havent had anything interesting happening to me these days. The problem, it seems to me, lies in abundance. Plenty is a pain indeed, and people yearn fot it!!

I have these really wierd ideas . But its as if I need to put them down in writing at that moment itself, otherwise swarms of other ideas come into my mind. I had this idea about squirrels. I really do admire them. They , to me , embody the very spirit of detachedness. They'll peacefully nibble at a nut for the whole day, while we humans crib and cry about our travails. You could even say that I am jealous of them.But just as I thought i'd write a blog entry about them, I started thinking of grandiose words ... "Effervescent","Transience",and all that shite that reallly doesnt matter. But words are dangerous things. They take you away from the road you were walking on, and put you in an altogether different city, familiar but different. So then I started thinking about how squirrels remind me of all those things that they should not remind me of, and then about why they should not remind me of the things I thought they should not remind me of.....You know, all that kind of silly shite.

So thats how it has been. A friend of mine told me to think about what I am going to write. Works for him. Doesnt seem to for me!!! I see these detached chapters of some great story, grander than you and I have ever read in my life. But I see them all jumbled up and mixed up, Chapter 49 after Chapter 2. And just like an ant on a rolling wheel, I can sense that there is something really huge going on, and it may be beyond me, but all these seemingly uncorrelated pieces of paper flitting by in front of my eyes are really meant to be held together by one cover. I guess thats what separates a great writer from ordinary ones(if you are ready to ascribe at least that to me). There is no Neverland, that magical place where you can go if you believe you can. Its right here, right now, scurrying by you like a squirrel. Dont try to grab it, just lose yourself in it. After all, reality is what we believe, isnt it?

So much for all that limbo. All that groping about for the torch is really a fruitless activity. All pretences at sense is really a wild jab at a demon that does not exist. Because that eternal quest of mankind to make everything everything sensible actually makes things more insensible. The truth of the jigsaw puzzle is not in the fact that they give a coherent picture when arranged in a certain way, but in the fact that they are meant to be jumbled up. Every piece has its own story. Look carefully. Each piece has a story to tell. Look at the edges. You'll see the places where the paper hasnt cut neatly, and how the paper tapers off towards the edges. That is its reality. Otherwise, if a picture is all that you needed, why not take a photo and stare at it!!!

Its possible that i'll never be able to write a contiguous line of action, because I stopped having continuous streams of thought a very long time back. Now i just have glimpses. These flashes of the world that i so yearn to be a part of, not knowing that I already am. I see these unconnected pieces flying like popcorn, not realizing that its my own life i am seeing. Sure its unconnected, but whoever said anything about an individual being connected!!!

So in away we are all like the guy in Memento...all of us lack ashort term memory...at least as soon as we try to do anything of substance...You remember your face when you see yourself in the mirror. You can recall you face. But is your own face imprinted in your mind in a way that it actually leaves its mark on everything you do? I would think not... Its not only easy to forget who you are, why you are thinking what you are thinking, and indeed what you were thinking, because its perfectly human to do so. The burden of mankind lies in its ability to think. Thats why we forget what we wrre thinking. There wouldnt be a problem if we didnt think at all!

And after all. All of us need mirrors. To remind us who we are. To help us piece together something that looks coherent, whereas nothing is. The mirror not only reflects reality, it constructs it.

Look into it. Is it you in the mirror, or are you a creation of it?