Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Accidents were all orchestrated!

1. If every passing stage seems like a world of possibilities: you have lived enough. I took picture of the Surya Namaskar postures as I was returning from library.

The 12th man

2. If you count from the left: it’s 6th. If you count from right it’s 7th.

3. Service is the only resolution: is the motto of the community which established this one. Under it: you have people marching behind Gandhi.

4. The 6th or 7th salutation is known as Sashtang dandavata or salutation with all eight limbs. What are they? Hands and feet: 4. Forehead, nose, stomach and the rest. There are three or them with “Namaskar” posture.

5. I used to do many such salutations in Vrindavan. I never felt scarcity of food in Vrindavan. I was given the job of a priest. I volunteered for food distribution and then cleansing of pots etc. There were days when we only had rice or slept hungry because some pilgrims came unannounced but it was rare and the management wasn’t good. It became so hectic as to not allow any time for study.

6. When I came here from Vrindavan: many false promises were made. Many crocodile tears were shed and then I was questioned by all and sundry who regularly visit Khajuraho to quit internet or porn. To not read books online. To give up luxuries which were only food. Food became scarce because fat pigs ate what didn’t belong to them. They used fake handicap certificates. I always had enough. Even my caution money of 30000 rupees was consumed. The 66000 were used up by thugs. I was pursued to stay by people who said: don’t let him go because there’s a case against him(Rahul). What case was that? They were acting on a script of revenge all along. They added one family first: then another to it.

7. I would have disappeared from this world if I could. That’s what my every ounce of energy was spent for. Is it really so with others? With moaning grandmother lying outside like a dead corpse? Does she want euthanasia?

8. I never felt scarcity of food until these people who promised it in 2014: blocked both: a way to escape: by snatching away documents as well as completely blocking the chances of any lucrative employment.

9. Who would give employment to a renunciate? Even if I was a normal man: it needed contacts. Prashant Gupta once said: if you need to teach kids I would send many. Instead : his sim card which was issued in the name of Saddam was used to monitor my web activity. That’s all Adhar card and other technology was for: to prevent you from jerking off and to force you into reproducing babies into a world where crops of hatred and factions are sown. Gandhi Maarg. Vivekananda Maarg. Bullshit Maarg. Go fuck yourself and yours.

10. Sister in law was not brought in this house for my comfort. My space was sacked. Same with Rahul. After using bike and laptop : they were unhappy if I needed a little privacy. Passout of 2013: he got no job. Fake handicap certificates. Satya Prakash should have been put behind bars a long ago along with his father. I was already suffering from cerebral palsy when I agreed for that. I didn’t use them. Then I escaped to save my life. They haunted me for long. Then they started taunting about food.

11. Fuck a woman or many if you can and have a job. In other words: take responsibility for rotting flesh and be doomed further while they laugh on top of pyramid.

12. What a world behind prayers and worship. What a rotten system! Kabir righteously called it the village of dead: murdo ka gaanv. Mohanjodaro. cremation ground.

13. The suggestion about Vimla was put prior to my mind before I entered stadium. Then I saw beatific vision. It had started to drizzle when I was about to step down after my morning breathing on roof.

14. Vimla was the name of Ashok Arjariya’s wife: a friend of Santosh. He was his friend for 30 years. He died dramatically in an accident while travelling towards Khajuraho. I was shocked when the news was given.

15. They both drank as they went to Kota with many of us: in 2003. On a dhaba we were waiting for them. They brought liquor. I suspected but by evening Santosh was so drunk it was impossible to control him unless Ram Prakash Shukla had intervened. He kept him company in the jeep whole night. The next morning there were flies on his mouth as he lay sleeping near a drainage line outside the building. All my pride was gone: the second or third dark night.

16. Like grim reapers: they kept coming back for more. Be it Rahul in 2016 or Gudda in 2012. I still don’t understand: how that accident near Vaibhav’s house happened. I was supposed to drive but he took the reigns and then some boys on bike came from left. My knee was hurt again. Ankur, Arvind uncle and Ankur’s grandfather stopped riding bikes because of such people. I was hit with bike on purpose in 2018 as I began visiting library.

17. Organized and orchestrated hurting of most harmless individuals. Because they’re not in any yaana system you call them Heena.

18. This indeed is a fucked up world.

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Sacrifice

1. Chutki is used for jokeful remark in Hindi but for me it means peppermint mixture made and packaged in Delhi crows are singing ginseng songs. Gingerly gingerly I say unto thee: a bike slowed down. They had a man in the middle who laughed devilishly as it looked at me. The idea was either to heal me or to get their guy healed. Clearly I didn’t go to them so they might think I am a shaman as I exhibit consistency in certain routines. I don’t want to get into a discussion about the nature of the relationship between the two subjects, but it is evident that I have a lot of work to do.

2. The vice president of the village was waiting for me to salute him. It’s evident in the manner the event of theft was brought into my attention. Something else was made into something else. There never was any Corona. Now it’s absolutely clear that it’s a hoax to control populace when you’re on verge of 5G and revelation that AI is synonymous with Godhead. Now Wachowski brothers will be worshipped instead of Christ as they had foretold what twenty first century was going to be like. I haven’t seen any death by Corona in my neighborhood. None in my family or relatives. It’s not that I want to see them all dead because it’s not a Buddhist game where you’re supposed to be alone in the centre of empty universe which you repopulate. I can escape and it’s enough. I’ve got some money for myself.

3. The mysterious aspect of godhead vested in the government uses media and police both as limbs. The more you know more you’re worth. That sacrifice is a must: is an open secret but it’s not the manner in which it’s done. Why animal sacrifices result in rains? I almost always smell dead animals when it’s raining. The ancient gods are fond of sacrifices. Did Buddha fail here in India? He enlightened you to learn that sacrifice means interdependence of all phenomenon. Coexistence means leaving your place when it’s time for others to take it. But attachment to something prevents you from seeing the flux. Hence the corruption. Space is infinite. Time is infinite. There is no death and yet there’s is this game by the matrix : to scare people of death and aging and disease. I am out of here! The matrix is a process of “we are”.

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Warily warily lyrically calculably!

1. I had a tea. I can hear horns from vehicles passing by. Though I need a chador in night it’s slightly hot in noon these days. Bearable. A guy from a nearby town came to our hospital.

2. I can only have a quickie as there will be students soon. One of these skipped class today, other skipped it yesterday and another skipped it the day before : the change in seasons affects immunity of people. I need to finish my homework before the students arrive.

3. Crows are cawing. I saw a stone on my way out. It commemorates the 1972 surrender of Chambal dacoits. I read the word “baagi” for dacoit. It’s a word which means ‘rebel.’ It also sounds like one used by the mystic poet Kabir; for callers for prayers. Baagi might also sound like gardners or garden visitors as gardens are called “baag” in Hindustani. It was written by the British censor.

4. I took the picture of a bull who was calmly grazing as vehicles were passing. There have been couple of transfers and they were making an inland empire of it. Sum of epiphany. Mosquitoes still bite you. People still spit gutka. You need to work hard for a day’s food. I had a chance to work with Madhuri Dixit.

5. What the heavens are you talking about? Maybe it’s because I am a writer.

6. I never understood why would people keep pets and boast about it. In most of the cases: it informs me that they are pathetic and lonely. They have hoarded money but lost lives to gluttony. Even more degrading are those who boast of having kept humans as pets. They are wretched. Just because you have a piece of land and paper and you have been here for two minutes longer than me: you pretend as if you own the nature. Which you do if you don’t need to pretend but not now because you have not tasted the spirit. And only from that time you are able to understand the wonderful things that nature has to offer.

6. Further details about the car accident: it happened yesterday about seven and the driver was drunk though it was only partially his mistake.

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Events Horizon!

It rained. The fog on the mountains nearby is the most captivating sight. The roads look bathed. Drenched mules were trying to procreate. The scenery before the rain and during a thunderstorm is better than after rain. But this region welcomes any and all rains. I am happy to see farmers relieved. The rain left the clouds, but the fog stayed.

2. The fog is mysterious. Mystery is a class of beauty which is exquisite engagement of mind. A harmony beyond. The mystery of fog is the manifestation of the song of the land

. 3. I was studying faces. There are those who chew gutka and spit incessantly making spots topos sapota saponified personified edified. There are those who take pride in their gait. Then there are those who look curiously at you. No matter how many times you walk on the same streets : you find new faces. No matter how many times you photograph the same places: they are novel with new details. Same with the themes: that’s why I never understand people engaged in the miserable business of trying to pinpoint people for plagiarism unless there are shameless copycats. Let dead past bury its dead. “But it’s a tremendous amount of work, you know!”

4. I met an octagenarian on a tea stall. He started talking about “cross breeding.” It was clear he was a puritan. But instead of talking about helping others or educating masses to help reduce the population: he was talking about the upper castes copulating with lower castes and creating degeneration. Such progenies elope. They create the diseases like Corona: he said proudly refering to the tale of Ramayana. Humans are ignorant. Natural selection by Darwin might be wrong but you need to be a Genghis Khan: a rare Butcher to inseminate a significant amount of degeneration. I find the women from the yellow races more attractive than the rest. Is it the DNA of Genghis Khan or the devil has gotten hold of me? The conviction with which old people voice their opinions makes them an interesting study. Its basic human instinct is to want to procreate.

5. Another small accident. Such incidents must be normal in the rainy season but I was not walking outskirts before. The contract owners for broadening the highway or creating a connection to the bypass have shown two mishaps within the fortnight. I wonder if they blocked the way knowingly by creating an accident because they knew that the temporary diversion might flow in the rains once again like last time. The government will create an elevated road to finally alleviate the ongoing problem.

. 6. The way is to create events which don’t evolve around you or your family. Being a witness without taking sides. This is the worship of the dancing light of Grace. I waited for the rain to stop before moving out but it was drizzling so I kept an umbrella with me. At the moment when I was walking towards the park, I saw a tiny umbrella like a child holding it and dragging it along the ground, past the drain with the big fish.

7. Beyond painting scenery and mysterious words which mean nothing what else do you write about? He asked. “If we don’t talk about something else,” I said

. 8. I write about movies I watch. I suspect that I am becoming more like my teachers and it’s partly to support my sustenance. I find I was much swift in mastering Grammar and Calculus and did it on my own mostly to retain it even after two decades. But I wasn’t smart enough to invent a time machine or cloak of invisibility. I have travelled in time but it was accidentally. Not anymore useful than a good dream which happens on its own. But I think I have become more creative about writing for the last couple of decades. The last two movies I was trying to watch made me sleepy. I would try to get back to them.