Tuesday, 27 August 2013

Repeated Reappearences

I don't remember when I went to see the waters for the first time. All the beautiful seascapes I have seen thereafter  have become part of my memories. Once memories were music. They redeemed emotions and retained them with rhythm, melody and harmony. Some other times memories were fragrance  and colors. They perceived past and preserved them with repeated sensations and similarities. Memories make me believe some of the moments smell the same and I am  familiar with these odors. Memories were often colors.  And they create unbelievable illusions. It appears that life is an indispensable sequence of  deja vus. Everywhere I witness encounters with disagreeable reappearances of familiarity. Even my first encounter with new situations appear to be a reappearance of similar occasions I have already experienced before. Familiar  compilation of different colors, similar melodies and familiar fragrance make me feel deja vus all the time. And among those melodies, some remind me of long lost get-together(s). Few among those many colors remind me of long route road trips. I find people are busy making merry. They move around, they laugh, they ridicule and they even forget to remember themselves.

I feel my past has got enduring existence when I find inevitable sameness everywhere. The same old fragrance, colors and melodies make me refuse to believe that whatever appears is not a reappearance. And my return from these deja vus was the realization that whatever appears beautiful, colorful and fragrant has substitutes in memories. And the end of these deja vus would be an unfamiliar encounter. Where nothing would really smell similar, nothing would appear familiar and no object would reflect familiar colors anymore.

Another time when I went to see the waters; it was the endlessness of the waters that made me obscure. The uninterrupted tides repeatedly reappeared. And I found an agreeable reappearance of sameness one after another. Same old sea again. But I never refuse to watch these sameness and familiarity, no matter agreeable or disagreeable. Perhaps these inevitable similarities would be responsible for making me an insider. I hate being insecure while having strange encounters that make me always an outsider.

And as memories appear,not all my thoughts are complete and perceptible. And I always love to see the waters and their agreeable sameness and uninterrupted reappearance. I feel it is a perpetual demonstration of my deja vus where I can find a great source of comfort and company.

Sunday, 25 August 2013

Gecko Calls and My Pursuit of Happiness

That is a 'gecko call' again, desperately seeking my attention. I have lizards all around. They approach my feet unnoticed. They crawl along the narrow shades of the terrace wall. Few of them guard my late night possessions. My life, my liberty, and my pursuit of happiness, on my terrace, during late nights. They keep guard over my nights. I have never had such a loyal company anywhere. They watch over me when I read, when I write. They take positions and move, if not always, around, when I walk on my terrace. Some of them never come out from the tube frames; as if they have been strategically deployed there! They hardly chase any flies unless and until flies come in their way. They never blink and keep a perpetual watch over me. I feel it as a genuine and caring one. They never even blink at the harsh tube light. When I touch the walls, they respond. Sometimes they stay back. They shed their tails but they never try to escape.

I sometimes feel that lizards follow when I walk on the streets. I hear gecko callings all around sometimes. I have trouble sleeping in the night. I feel lizards fly around me. Perhaps a hallucination. But does it happen when I sleep? Freud's 'dream psychology' is insufficient'. I will ask my sister who studies psychology.
Lizards watch me every night. And it seems that I slowly begin to enjoy their company. They chirp when I take my cloths off. They gaze when i walk naked. They stick their tongue out at me when I masturbate. When I go to bed, I never see them on the walls. And I never find where they come from. I feel that they keep listening to what I murmur. I am having their unconditional attention. And I keep talking to them. I expect some day they would respond. Some day they would start really talking to me. And I have more stories to tell them. But as of now they are just watching over me every night. A perpetual obligation from which they never try to creep way.

They sometimes remind me of those nights when I was suffering from fever. Those nights were hard. When I was terribly ill; monsters used to fly around me. When I closed my eyes; these shapeless monsters used to float around. Those nights were all hallucinated.

Lizards offer me a ceremonial guardianship. They crawl behind one another until they get to their positions. An unsolicited and unconditional company during my late 'night hours'. So far, the 'blinks' of mine and theirs must have been simultaneous and agreed upon each other. Otherwise I never see them blink. They hardly move; and if at all they move; they crawl to a standstill all the time. And this is how I was forced to stop ignoring them. They are dedicated. Whenever I talk to them, even busy ones slow to a crawl. Whom should I apologize if in case I fall in love with one among those many lizards. Answering a gecko call becomes an imminent inevitability. I submit myself to all unaccountable hallucinations of mine. They protect me and they validate my pleasure seeking. And there is another gecko call again. And if I answer it, they would never stop calling me and I would never refuse to answer them!!.

Independence day Kites

Yesterday was independence day. In all the years of the recent past, hardly any day of festive brought me something to be remembered. They have always been making their way to oblivion. When I woke up in the morning, there were already celebrations started off on all the terraces around. I thought I woke up bit late! It made me confused that; was it the freedom to run kites that we got in 15th august 1947? For that many kites were making their way up above the buildings. That too in a verity of flashy colors in different verities. And they were countless in number. A majority of them were in Indian tricolor. And to my surprise; I have never seen kites even in Calicut beach in so abundance in this kind. And it was not just running the kites that added to their merry making; but it was also very much part of the day to break the threads and make other kites go off the path and then make a strange noise.
People were a lot everywhere, on all terraces. And among them were kids with playful mischief. Some of them were trying to eat kites. Some other were busy tearing it off and yet some others throwing away the kites in pieces and getting new one to try with! But none made any objection. They were free to do whatever they wanted to do. And whatever they did was absolutely well done! Any way it was interesting, noisy merry making all around. I had no kite and I didn't know about it either. Otherwise I would have bought a few kites for the day. I really wished that I had a kite. And of course I felt bad.

Every one was busy running their kites. No one spares even a single moment. Firm with their kite running so high and damaging other kites. That is how they satisfy their pursuit of happiness. And it is important to make sure that no one get a chance to make one's kite overfly. Any one watching this splendid kite extravaganza would definitely love to fly a kite right then and there. That much festivity filled the moments.

The building; just the right side of mine was still under construction. And the workers and their families were staying in the ground floor of that building. And I have seen a boy there often. And in these sound and fury of the celebration; he was also watching from the top of that building. I couldn't understand whether it was happiness or wonder that made his face so strange looking. He was watching each and every kite flying in the heights. And looked at those magnificently flying kites one after the other. And in a regular interval he looked at the laughing kids who run the kites, most of them were at his age, and he looked at their patents helping hold the threads, whenever the wind blow and take the kite on along its way. And when kites change their direction, he also walked the same direction looking at them. And he walked all over the terrace looking at the kites flying so high. He seemed to be too tired of looking at the kites and the kids who fly them every now and then. Another pursuit of happiness; but an uninterrupted and helpless one. But still he was staring at them and of course at the kids too. He continued to do so. Whenever the wind blew; kites made a quick turning. And it accompanied an interesting sound something he was not familiar with but; now he learned to expect kite, making that interesting sound. That made him laugh. A joyful laughter. Then he suddenly looked at the kite runners. But no one was looking at him and he had no kite either. Then he again started looking the kites in the sky. I felt that his small neck was aching after looking up so long. He was looking down for a while to relax so that he can resume watching the kites afresh. And looked all of them again one after the other. To my surprise; all of a sudden he started rushing down on the stairs like an athlete. It made me afraid that he might fall off the steps. I too rushed to the corner and looked down. A kite was their on the ground. It must have been a lost one. Any way he felt like treasured all of a sudden. An unexpected and invaluable gift. He grabbed it with extreme pleasure. He hold it firmly on to his chest and rushed up. I was waiting to watch him having a kite on the terrace. But when he appeared unfortunately the kite was damaged. It might have happened when he rushed over the stairs. And also he might have never thought that he couldn't fly it without a thread. He was helpless. What happened was he got a damaged kite and that too by coincidence. That's it. And nothing good was going to happen which makes rest of his day a happy one. And I was not sure whether he was really expecting something that kind of miracle. Any way he was trying to fly it by holding at the end of the broken thread. But that was too short. And he was not just trying; he was trying so hard to make it fly. He even ran two three steps to give it a push. I feared that he might fall off the terrace. I was not sure that if he knew that the kite would never fly! But he had no other expectations but to try. I don't remember what kind of thoughts filled my mind that time. Even if I didn't know his name I called him by some name. But it was the family on the front terrace who turned back. I called him again and this time he heard me. I asked him to come down. He didn't understand anything and didn't respond. But I insisted on him to come down. Half willingly he climbed down the stairs. I too went down.

His hair and cloths were dirty. But his smile was beautiful and innocent. He never asked me why he was asked to come down. I asked his name. Aravind. I gave him some money to buy kite. Not just one kite but a handful of kites. To my wonder , he thought he was given money to buy kites for me! But when I said it was for him; I felt the dirty dust on his face vanished all of a sudden in the wind. Perhaps it was his gratitude to me that filled his eyes. His eyes were shining. He smiled at me and I smiled at him too. By holding the money strong he ran away.

Aravind was trying to fly his kite. This time it was not a broken kite. But a new one. Like those at which he was staring since morning. A beautiful and colorful one. Now his kite has a thread which will make it fly as much high as it wishes. And he would never feel bad if in case the wind takes it away from him. For he is now having at least ten kites. Kites in a verity of colors! But may be because he was not familiar with flying a kit it sometimes refused to fly. But he was happy trying with his own kite. He regularly looked at my terrace and smiled at me. Whenever the kite flew a while and fell at his feet, he used to smiled at me. Sometimes little shy. Then again tried to make it fly. Thus and so he used to look at me and smiled at me whenever his kite flies and falls. Sometimes he was looking the kites which kept on the floor. And he kept a small stone on it so that it may not fly away. He laughed wholeheartedly for a moment as if he became a billionaire all of a sudden. And I wished may that laughter be there on his face forever. Those kites were having the colours of his freedom. And I felt his laughter was indeed of the freedom. He was still smiling at me..

Thursday, 15 August 2013


And at the end it is darkness again.
Inception of darkness at the end of the day
It is the darkness which makes the difference
Breaking these two excitements of the entity
The dawn and the twilight..!
Life In a way, taking a walk from darkness to darkness
Realizing the intensity and insularity of darkness
I made it time and again enough to get lost in-between
I made it time and again enough to wander and finally to be nowhere
It seems to me to be more than real,
more than live and more or less love
These are not excitements any more.
I hope I will be too busy to get excited
I hope I will get long lost dawn back
I hope I will get long lost twilight back
Because I realize it is the darkness which makes the difference
Darkness is nothing but the solitude at it's best!
And it happens every now and then all over again around me!!
(and it isn't the end....)