True

We are prisoners. It's our job to co-operate. At least the cops seem to think so! Glad to be of service? :)

One of the sheep

Once upon a time

18:30
31/10/05

Sky-Light…

It’s 6:30 in the evening and I am on my way to Bangalore. I have not been able to shift my gaze from the sunset! With all the monotony of its repetition, I cannot look away.

At such a height, the magnanimity of things dawns on me just as a swarm of bees would when one disturbs its abode. The light from the sky spits into arrows of hope, cutting the horizon with visual delight.

There’s the lovely blue standing out like a peacock spreading its feathers, calling out to a soul mate. The orange brightening into a red seems like a gush of uncontrolled emotions; a contrast to the depths of the green blending into the yellow with sly precision. Then there’s the horizon that stands out against the sky, showered with wisps of pearl-white magic.

I wonder how insignificant we are, how absolutely miniscule! The horizon is the beginning to what seems like an end to all things familiar. We take recluse in the space within these boundaries of familiarity. Yet, if we were to delve into the depths of the explored, we’d get lost for eternity.

Numb...

Just the other day, I was thinking about ants. “The Ants & I”. Well, I picked up a black ant, placed it on my palms and sadistically held a finger firm on one of its legs. It pulled and tugged and struggled. The leg gave away… just like that… with an imaginary pop that only I conjured and heard inside my head. There were no screams… no tortured expressions of agony… just a tiny ant crawling away from the helplessness of its size.

If I were the ant with a human being’s giant of a finger crushed down on my leg and if I were the one tugging and pulling and crying and screaming as my leg ripped off of my body in a nauseous jumble of blood, bone and flesh and if I were crawling away writhing dizzy, I realized that my voice would just be mere sound waves that would reach only a certain point and dissolve before it gets anywhere close to the giant’s insensitive eardrums.

I am that monster who refuses to listen to the screams that DO reach my ear. I… the most intelligent creature on this planet... flying on this marvel of a machine built by my kind… am deaf and blind and numb.

Green Day

"We spend half our lives in bed", wrote someone! Never thought about it that way!! So we've lived half our lives and dreamed the other half... should come as a rude shock, this thought... but oddly it just seems to buzz right outside my ear and won't go away no matter how much I swat at it!!

"Shit happens", said soemone else... Forrest Gump remember? Run Forrest Run... Life is a box of chocolates! It haunts me when these just swim inside my head as words and letters... a blur! Shit happens... Have you ever stepped into watery shit that has stayed under the sun for sometime? The crust breaks and the yellow gooey stuff just splatters on to your shoes and trousers and just as wild forest fire, the aroma spreads rapidly where a second before, there was nothing but deodrant and sweat mingling in a sinewy tango!

"...life is not just a set of tasks but tastes..." Kate & Leopold... Profound... I like Hugh Jackman... I hope to dream about being a Meg Ryan going to be married to a duke in 18something! What the hell? I wouldn't mind spending half my life with Hugh Jackman as long as I have the option of waking up into reality (who am I kiddin) when it turns into a nightmare. Never could stop wondering... what if this were the dream and that the reality? Bless Sophie's World and The Matrix! It's all cabbage...