SAT DOWN AND WEPT

I was roaming around in BTM Layout, unsuccessfully looking for a doctor who won't mind working on a Sunday evening. Bought 'By the river Piedra I sat down and wept' by Paulo Coelho from a road side bookseller. Actually, I had started reading 'Midnight's children' just the previous day. Anyway, decided to complete 'By the river ..' and started reading the same evening.

Big disappointment. Pages 50-67 were missing in the book. I was not in a mood (or state, I told I was looking for a doctor) to go and get the book replaced. Loss of these 17 pages didn't matter much as I continued reading. (Is there a philosophy hiding here?)

I finished it the next day. I had 'deja vu' feeling when I read the way the protagonists (both of them) think and act. I had thought the same thoughts and done similar things too. I am planning to do some of them in future. Many of us (I'm under no illusion that I have a great readership to this blog :-)) would feel the same, I think.

Whenever the word 'ridiculous' was used in the novel, I couldn't resist remembering one of my previous posts.

I tend to agree with Paulo when he talks about love. But not when he talks about faith or God or destiny. Not in a mood to discuss about this more, now. Will be back, for sure.

To close, one statement from 'Midnight's children'. (not in exact words)
"You turned your back on us, and now claim that we are behind you"

Good one, isn't it?

What he said, groping

Taking off glasses
estranges places,
reduces literacy
to the largest print.
Lights loom, dead
oranges in a fog.
Faces move
under water.
You no longer see
eye to eye.

A hand wrapped in a glove
can no longer pick
a dime off the floor,
or a carrot-red
hair. Or thread
a needle. Or feel the fuzz
on a peach
or a familiar cheek.
You see, smell, hear
what you cannot touch.

That drug
for the racing pulse
puts sleep
into walking,
moves the sidewalk
far away and slow
under someone else's
feet. All day it's late
afternoon and 3:20
always in the radium dark.

Loving someone
not in love
is to lose one's glasses
underfoot without a language
in a village
fair, to wake up without fingers,
to drug the heart
and slow down a world.

- A. K. Ramanujan
From 'Collected Poems'

makes sense...

RIDICULOUS

I was going to tell and I felt ridiculous, I promise. Is this something that is to be told? Felt, isn't it? The very fact that it needs to be told indicated what was in store for me. But, one has to do many things even after knowing that the result is not going to be favourable. Waging a losing battle. There is no other choice; as I told earlier, there is no looking back. Go along the way. Don't retreat and regret later. Get killed and rest convinced.

So, I was going to tell and I felt ridiculous. I was telling and I felt ridiculous. I told and heard 'Ridiculous!'.

Killed and convinced.

'ini ennaip puthiya uyiraakki, mathithannai mihath theLivu seyvaay' (mahakavi Bharathi)

IS THERE A WAY OUT?

I had gone to one of my relatives' house on Saturday. After lunch, I was alone watching TV. K.Vishwanath's 'Sippikkul muthu' was being telecast in RAJ TV. I could watch only half of the movie as I had to leave from there.

Watching the movie made me cry. It's not just 'tears-in-my-eyes' stuff; I was literally crying. It was not for Kamal's character in the movie or the hardships faced by Radhika as young widow. Being selfish as I am, I can only cry for myself. I cried for my lost innocence. I cried, detesting all the knowledge i have gained; all the calculations my mind can do in a second; all the books I have read; all the things that this world has taught me; all the things that I have willingly learnt.

Worst of all is, I cannot decide to be innocent. There is no looking back, is there?

Humanness and the Self

There was a review for 'The Prophet' (Kahlil Gibran) in Metro Plus, a few days back. I don't remember who had reviewed though. The reviewer had mentioned about two more writers in the review. Below are the excerpts from the review.
"Gibran, Rumi and Rilke make a little bridge outwards from the cocoon of self-reliance and self-help that we seem doomed to weave around ourselves".
"Reading them, you can feel how the pain of suffering your humanness is the mystical journey most near you, the most accessible".

This interests me, as I wonder if I am in a self made cocoon. At the same time, I wonder if I have already crossed those bridges only to reach this cocoon. I have read 'The Prophet' and I liked it very much then. Probably I have to re-read it and try to get Rumi and Rilke too.

CHANGE / EVOLUTION ?

I went to a book shop (Prism) in Jayanagar on Sunday. To my surprise, I went to fiction first and then to Philosophy section. This is the first ever time I have done this, while buying English books. With Tamil, this happened a year back, approxmately.

So, I have come to fiction from Philosophy, I believe. Two years back, when I bought 'Total Freedom' by JK, I felt like a drug addict who consumes more drug though he wants to get rid of it badly. I dread if there would be a day in which I would find that all my thoughts were taken from some book I read. That's a nightmare.

But, till today, I am buying and reading more and more.

Midnight's Children (Rushdie), Collected Poems(AK Ramanujan), Commentaries on Living Second Series, Third Series (JK).

Shop owner gave me 10% discount, when I didn't ask for any. I had fought with this old man once before and my last punch line was 'You know what, you just lost a customer'. As usual, I find it meaningless now.

And, I didn't buy clothes, though I had gone to Jayanagar for buying me some shirts. All the shops are crowded and those lights and crowd put me off. I will buy when I really very badly need them. This morning I had to cut the hanging threads from the bottom of my pant and the shirt has worn out in its collar, it is torn too. I can manage for some more time?

AFTERTHOUGHT

My previous post...
I realize it is not that easy to say 'Good Bye!'.

As I do all these, I see that there is something inside me that looks at and smiles at me. It is that 'something' that keeps me awake and alive and safe from going insane. But, how different that 'thing' can be from me? It's me, again, isn't it? I am just a collection of these various 'things'. So, drama goes on. But deep inside, I feel, it's really difficult to say 'Good bye'. If one expects me to say that it is impossible, I'm sorry. If one says that one can't say 'Goodbye' if his love is true, then I doubt if I will ever live to see that 'true' love in me. If I am going to cause more pain than anything else to that person, if that person shows clearly that she is not at all interested in me, what else is the way?

My habit of questioning and analysing everything, including my emotions, might well be an obstacle to someone to come closer to me. And, this is what has made me keep a distance from everyone and everything. A happy-go-lucky, little emotional and a little sensible person may be a lot more fun to be with, I agree. I am not at all fun. I live with questions.

I am not at all worried if someone who knows me reads this and enquires me about all this. I am really surprised at me for this! I can face the whole world and tell 'yes!', even if 'good bye' is all what I'm going to hear/say at the end of all this.

It feels like I am in control with my life. I want to be accountable for everything I do. Am I trying to prove that I am not worried about my well-wishers' opinions? Probably yes. Again, that 'thing' in me starts laughing at me now. I can't be angry to him. He might have a point.

WHAT WE HAVE?

I can't get to see,
however hard I think,
what am I to you now?
Will I ever know?

What you have for me,
Is it irritation?
Or a heart of hatred,
or just indifference!?

I know it's not love!
I know it can't be love!

I know my heart well,
It won't ever back out.
Nothing can erase
in my heart your face!

It will be in my shell,
that I never will reveal,
for I know you know too,
but you chose not to face.

But, you know it is love!
Dear, you know it is love!

Don't give me no reason
you might have lots of 'em.
How can it matter to me,
what they are, let them be!

This is our station,
where I know you part me.
With you take these words
just to laught at or hate me.

Just to laugh at or hate me!
Just you laugh at or hate me!

I bid you good bye here
'tis bad I can't go back
and start all over again
not to give you a single hint!

Don't wanna be near
I'll go far and find my life
But love's what I have for you!
never impured by words of mine!

But, love's what I have for you!
Yeah, love's what I'll have for you!

Peanut Candy

While going home from office last night, I bought vegetables and milk for preparing supper. Walking towards home, I saw the small shop on the opposite street, where we usually buy pickle sachets. With the change that remains, I used to buy peanut candy. We had enough stock of pickle at home. But, I thought of buying it, so that I can buy peanut candy too. When I checked my purse, I had just a single one rupee coin and then Rs50 notes.

So, I have to buy peanut candy alone. How can I do that, being a 26 years old, going to a shop just to buy one peanut candy? No. I decided against that and started walking my way. But, how can this silly inhibition stop me from having what I want?

I walked back towards that shop. There were three inside the shop (two men and a woman), talking to a man who was standing outside the shop. I went and put the coin and asked for a candy. Before I know, my face prepared itself to wear an apologetic smile, as if to apologize for being so childish. (Why is it that I was going to smile at the woman alone. Is it only a woman's opinion about me I'm concerned about?) No, I ordered myself not to smile. Taking that candy in hand, I walked home.

Now, don't believe even if I say that the candy was tastier than it had ever been. It's just the same.

P.S: Oh, what a revolution? Do I talk in the same tone one would talk in, when one says about having gone to an er... whorehouse, without worrying about his prestige etc?