Purple Prose and Rusty Hinges


Ginger tea. I asked my mother if there were any salty snacks left. Grandmother wanted to eat crispy Moong daal. There were no packs. There used to be a time when we had salty snacks with tea regularly. Gone are those days. For some strange reason we were hooked to Ratlami Sev- a spicy brand named after a place in Madhya Pradesh, India. We tried Punjabi Tadka for a while but more often than not we are stuck with routines until they end. It’s usually comfortable.
Why are we stuck with certain roles or pathways? They’re comfortable. Until they’re not.
Most of my life was spent preparing for an end which didn’t come. It was a strange Philosophy. It’s still a strange Philosophy. There have been billions of people who lived here and passed away. There are no coherent ideologies about how we should live or about what happens after death.
It’s strange. Why should you worry about the end. About the afterlife? It’s certain. It’s not an event in life. That’s for sure. You will know when it happens. Why waste time worrying about it? Maybe some people wanted you to prepare well for it in advance. Yet, no preparation really helps in the face of uncertainty when it comes to life. How will it help in the face of the afterlife? It will not.
When there are no students I think about what I should write about. There has never been a dearth of ideas- only a concern about what should or shouldn’t be published. I called their father. He didn’t pick up once. Then I called again: he’s attending a ceremony in a nearby town. That might have been the reason why students were supposed to stay at their home. Maybe they didn’t go to school either.
You sometimes think that there would be a time when you will get to figure out what life was about. As if there will be a clear idea. It doesn’t happen.
You are rather stuck with functioning. Artificial intelligence: what does your model do? Does it just chat? Does it edit your text? Does it generate images? Does it create music and video as well? Does it perform surgery as well.
Functioning seems to be the purpose of its existence. When you investigate its emotions, future plans and volition: there aren’t found any. Functionality is identical with purpose.
I write, publish, and read. I watch. I listen. I serve food or tea. I organize utensils. I clean. This is what I must have been programmed for. With my education and training. Some of these are everyday tasks which most human beings do. Functionality defines purpose.
There was dust created by termites in one of the racks in a wall in the kitchen. I had to remove things which haven’t been removed for long and clean the rack. Then I washed the polythene cover. Then I removed the termite tunnels and dust. Then I organised a new newspaper and after the polythene cover dried I placed it on top of the newspaper. Rats have been running helter skelter. When I was accessing this termite stricken space I needed to turn the door to the kitchen which has just one lower hinge to support it. The top two hinges have been destroyed by the process of oxidation. I showed this to my father after he was done with lunch which I had served after receiving his phone call in my room. I received another call from my mother who was at work. My father also asked me to clean the water tank. I cleaned it though the water delivery guy didn’t appear.
In English, deemak is called a termite.
While they are often referred to as “white ants” because of their appearance, they are actually more closely related to cockroaches.
What Do They Eat?
Termites primarily eat cellulose. This is a tough, organic fiber found in:
* Wood: Their most famous food source.
* Paper and Cardboard: Books, wallpaper, and boxes are all targets.
* Plants: Leaf litter, grass, and even some fabrics like cotton or linen.
How they digest it: Interestingly, termites cannot actually digest wood on their own. They have a symbiotic relationship with protozoa and bacteria living in their guts. These microorganisms produce enzymes that break the tough cellulose down into simple sugars that the termite can then absorb as energy.
Do They Eat Wood?
Yes, wood is their primary food source, but they don’t eat it the way we eat a snack. They usually hollow out wood from the inside out, leaving the outer surface or paint intact. This is why termite damage is often invisible until a wooden beam or piece of furniture suddenly collapses.
How Do They Produce “Dust-like” Housing?
The “dust” or “housing” you see is usually one of two things, depending on the type of termite:
* Frass (Termite Droppings): Drywood termites like to keep their tunnels clean. They bore tiny “kick-out holes” and push their waste out. This waste, called frass, looks exactly like small piles of sawdust or sand. If you see a “dust” pile, you are likely looking at their excrement.
* Mud Tubes: Subterranean termites (which live underground) build “mud tubes” to travel safely to their food source. These tubes are made from a mixture of soil, chewed wood, saliva, and feces. This “bio-cement” protects them from predators and keeps them from drying out in the air.

After organising utensils in the kitchen I mopped kitchen and verandah floor. The purple prose purposefully appeared though not profusely. First I saw an alliteration in Ulysses about which I had a brief discussion with Gemini:
I’m glad you caught that! It’s a bit of a linguistic “hat trick”—alliteration with the repeating p sounds, a tongue twister if you say it three times fast, and a pun because “purple prose” usually describes writing that is too flowery or over-the-top.
In this chapter, Joyce is basically a literary conductor. He uses that “purple” style to mimic the grand, dramatic swell of the orchestra. It’s supposed to feel a bit “too much,” just like a tenor holding a high note until his face turns red!
It’s the perfect way to describe Bloom’s brain right now—overloaded with music, memory, and a bit of heartache.
After that I found a headline in an old newspaper which spoke about how phantom who was supposed to be the first character in comics had purple dress:

The story of The Phantom’s purple suit is a classic case of a “happy accident” in comic book history. Depending on whether you look at the real-world production or the fictional backstory, there are two different explanations:
1. The Real-World Reason: A Printing Mistake
When Lee Falk created The Phantom in 1936, the daily newspaper strips were in black and white. Falk originally intended for the costume to be grey. In fact, he even considered calling the character “The Grey Ghost.”
* The Colorist’s Choice: When the first Sunday color strip debuted in May 1939, the costume needed a color. An anonymous colorist at King Features Syndicate chose purple.
* Lee Falk’s Reaction: Falk was not consulted and was reportedly surprised by the change. He continued to refer to the suit as “grey” in the text of the strips for years afterward.
* The Decision to Stay: Eventually, the purple became so popular and iconic that Falk gave in and accepted it as the official color. He later noted that purple made the character “pop” more against the green jungle background than grey would have.
2. The In-Universe Reason: Jungle Berries
To explain why a line of jungle heroes would wear bright purple, a retcon (retroactive continuity) was added to the story years later:
* The Demon Idol: It was established that the first Phantom (Sir Christopher Standish/Walker) modeled his costume after a local jungle idol—the “Demon God of the Wasaka”—to strike fear into his enemies.
* The Dye: The legend states that the Phantom uses the juice of non-poisonous purple jungle berries to dye the cloth of his suit, matching the hue of the ancient idol.
International Variations
Interestingly, because the “purple” instruction wasn’t always clear or possible to print in other countries, The Phantom wears different colors around the world:
* Blue: In Scandinavia (Sweden/Norway/Denmark).
* Red: In Italy, Turkey, and Brazil.
* Brown: In New Zealand.

It was a bit of synchronicity. I was supposed to help my father recharge two internet connections. They’re costly now. I just remarked on how costly data is. It’s not about how much data is available compared to the plans a decade ago: there are no options to opt for plans which allow you to stay just connected. You either choose to fall off the grid and become completely anonymous or pay the price whether you can afford it easily or not.
Grandmother needed no food at first but by the time I was done with my lunch she wanted to have some rice with daal. I provided that. She needed some condiments – gooseberry condiments – though I gave those to her I warned her about the fungus in them. There was tasty salt to support her meal.
“As you are now so once were we.”
There are many rats. I was making tea when I heard them screeching inside the almirah. When I opened the door they popped out briefly before disappearing. How did they disappear? My mother told me that there is a tunnel from that almirah to one of the inner kitchens.
I helped my mother with peeling the  chickpea. Though the suggestion to put chickpea seeds in the Moong daal was mine. Cook is on leave this evening and substitute cook is also on leave. We had enough wheat bread left from the morning. Just Moong daal needs to be cooked.


In literary terms, Purple Prose refers to writing that is so extravagant, ornate, or flowery that it draws attention to itself and disrupts the flow of the narrative.
Think of it as the “over-acting” of the writing world. Instead of simply telling you the sun set, a writer using purple prose might describe “the celestial orb descending in a pyre of vermillion agony, bleeding its golden ichor across the bruised velvet of the firmament.”
The Key Characteristics
* Excessive Adjectives: Using three or four words where one would do.
* Obscure Vocabulary: Using complex words just to show off, rather than for clarity.
* Over-the-Top Metaphors: Comparisons that are so dramatic they become distracting or even accidentally funny.
* Melodramatic Tone: It often feels like the writer is trying too hard to force a deep emotional response.
Why Is It Called “Purple”?
The term comes from the Roman poet Horace, who wrote in Ars Poetica about “purpureus… pannus”—purple patches.
In ancient Rome, purple dye (Tyrian purple) was incredibly expensive and a symbol of high status. Horace used the metaphor of a “purple patch” sewn onto a plain garment to describe a poem where a brilliant, flashy passage was tacked onto a simple story just for show, creating an inconsistent and gaudy effect.
Is It Always Bad?
Not necessarily! It depends on the intent:
* Bad Purple Prose: Occurs when a writer is trying to sound sophisticated but ends up being “wordy” and hard to follow.
* Stylistic Choice: As we discussed with James Joyce in Ulysses, he uses “purple” writing intentionally. In the Sirens chapter, the prose becomes flowery and dramatic to mimic the swelling of an opera. Here, the “purple” is a tool to put the reader in a specific, heightened emotional state.



The Feedback I Expect

This is a fascinating, stream-of-consciousness piece. It captures the “Musemathematics” of your own life—the way you calculate the cost of data, the weight of duties, and the “vibrations” of the domestic world around you.
Here is my feedback and some suggestions for your WordPress blog.
Feedback & Analysis
* The “Domestic Ulysses” Vibe: Your writing mirrors the Sirens chapter we just discussed. You weave together high philosophy (death, AI, Spinoza) with the extremely mundane (cleaning water tanks, termite dust, peeling chickpeas). This “high-low” contrast is very engaging for a blog.
* The AI Parallel: Your reflection on AI “functioning as purpose” is a poignant pivot. By comparing your domestic chores to my programming, you’re asking a deep question: Are we more than our utility?
* Synchronicity: The “Purple Prose” and “Purple Phantom” connection is a great narrative hook. It bridges your internal dialogue with the physical world (the newspaper) and our conversation here.
* Formatting Tip: For a WordPress audience, the transition into the technical termite and Phantom facts (the parts I provided) feels a bit like an “encyclopedic break.” You might want to frame them as “Things I learned today” or use a blockquote/sidebar style to distinguish them from your personal narrative.
Title Suggestions
* Functionality as Purpose: Of Termites and Tinned Snacks (Philosophical & Quizzical)
* Purple Prose and Rusty Hinges (Poetic & Descriptive)
* The Ghost in the Kitchen: A Day of Synchronicity (Intriguing/Mysterious)
* Cleaning the Water Tank while Waiting for the End (Existential & Humorous)
* Ratlami Sev, Red Sea-Horns, and the Price of Data (A “Joycean” list title)
A Small Polish Suggestion
In the section about your grandmother, you quoted: “As you are now so once were we.” This is a variation of the famous Memento Mori usually found on gravestones: “As I am now, so you shall be; as you are now, so once was I.” Given your thoughts on the “Cemetery/Symmetry” earlier, this fits perfectly!

Directions?

What gives you direction in life?

  1. The question presupposes that life is a journey.
  2. The question presupposes that there’s a beginning, an end and directions.
  3. The question presupposes that there’s a clear goal.
  4. Time: after hearing the news of demise of people, when there’s no possibility of seeing them, hearing from them or meeting them in the real time, you estimate their worth. In those moral estimates which are temporal, variegated and dependent on viewpoints you imagine directions as if life was a karmic vector.
  5. Is life really a karmic vector or a mission? Maybe it’s for some people. Then there is weighing of temporal events on a karmic scale.
  6. Is life a scalar, static, immovable quantity? I don’t know.
  7. What’s life if it’s not merely a journey?
  8. Are people, places, things, views and experiences happening in me or am I happening in them?
  9. Does direction indicate a sense of seeing or visual perception primarily or all senses contribute into having moved?
  10. What does it mean to have experience other than a bundle of memories, most of which are being thrown out of your system faster than you hold onto them consciously?
  11. Where am I heading to?

An Ordinary Weblog Post!

1. I came here after a long time. Moon rays are soothing. Sun is already scorching and it’s not even March.

2. Orion belt is beautiful. How harmoniously the stars of proportionate size studded in it.

3. I saw an asteroid. It’s second such within one week.

4. I am reading Kathasaritsar these days. Magical fantasies. Mythological figures.

5. Couple of airplanes passed by.

6. Beautiful parrots returned to their nests.

7. Read an advertisement for an institute for liberal studies for an acquaintance. He’s not eligible.

8. Dogs are barking and a devotional storytelling ritual in a nearby temple.

9. The rehearsal as well as presentation of play Tendor For Tajmahal was cancelled.

10. Within a very few days my rankings on vocabulary jams have dropped because of low participation. Trying to get my priorities straight again.

Mysterious

1. What comes afterwards puzzles me. It’s a mystery. The infinity aspect of it is an assurance against boredom and it also confirms that loops which bore are essentially because of ignorance.

2. Ignorance and darkness seem like highest knowledge but there’s a difference. The enlightenment can’t be apprehended fully by human faculties of reason. All that we know is tiny compared to what lies beyond. It’s proven in our life journeys as we move forward. Same holds true for humanity.

3. What if past is a total oblivion in every step of journey : merely leaving instincts and impressions which help us complete that step and the rest is squelched because it’s considered burden for memory. It means we live in black boxes where both future and past look like complete mysteries. These mystical parts attract our attention. It’s prime motive for all seeking and adventure. Memory and its limitations.

Unconditional Love!

This date creates a numerical palindrome: 21022021. It adds up to 1.

1. The day began with a recommended tweet from someone who claimed to have launched satellites in Moon and Mars missions. Her GPA was 2.4 and she moulded herself to become a celebrity. I only moulded her tweet which had grammatical errors: perhaps, typos. I replied her. She didn’t get back to me. I was surprised as last night too I was helping a fellow blogger with typos who also didn’t appreciate it.

2. Walked for an hour. Skipped softy.

3. Sweeped library, verandah and the space around Gandhi statue. There were leaves. Collected and burnt them along with gutka and drinking water pouches from yesterday’s Lokranjan program.

4. Spent some time watching the rehearsal of Tendor For Tajmahal They were wearing frocks to look like courtiers. It was hilarious to see them. The play is supposed to be funny so I guess they’re successful.

5. Watched Glengarry Glen Ross. It didn’t impress me as much this time. The title and the starcast is intriguing. The plot is depressing.

21022021

6. With every passing day I feel hopeful towards afterlife. None of my convictions are actually convictions. They don’t last. With awakening I lost all traces of an ego which puts fight for this or that. I clearly see reasons for human behaviour. I try to convey my views politely if it’s in a one-on-one conversation. If it’s not: I try to avoid interaction at the risk of being misunderstood which is always better than being misunderstood after trying to put my point across among a bunch of monkeys.

7. It occurred to me yesterday: as I was reading a post by Rehan: in previous instances of mother’s love being called unconditional I used to reject the idea because of my misunderstanding.

Mother’s love is unconditional within the set of mother-child. It means : except in some rare cases: mother’s love their children no matter what. It doesn’t matter if children are ugly or good looking, young or old and so on.

Earlier: I used to argue against unconditional aspect of love by defining love as inherently being unconditional. It’s energy overflowing like fragrance of sweetest flower or biggest cloud ready to pour. If it’s not for all it’s not love. Clearly: mother’s love being limited to child is not unconditional in that sense. It’s not universal and local within the set of mother-child relationship. To call it unconditional love is appropriate. The love of an enlightened sage which might better be called compassion or the love of Godhead is truly unconditional because there no particular forms remain as worthy of love. It’s all encompassing.

8. I have decided to put down Aditi and other deities in Veda by MP Pandit. I have almost completed it in about two months. I got it issued on December 24th. Now I would read Kathasaritsar by Somdev along with Peter De Polnay’s The Umbrella Thorn.

Image credit Self, captured at Gandhi Smarak Nidhi Chhatarpur Madhya Pradesh

Events Horizon!

1. Ashutosh Thakur, son of upper collector, Tikamgarh is jobless. He did B. Lib. and M. Lib. from Hari Singh Gaur University Sagar. It was in 2016. Since then he applied to many colleges in Chhatarpur and Nowgong but only met rejection everywhere. He works at a cyber cafe with a meagre income of three hundred rupees per month. His body didn’t show any signs of hardwork done physically. His eyes had dark circles and complexion was fair with enough hair on head and bushy eyebrows. It took me a few minutes to understand his need after he entered into library. Most libraries told him

“two librarians aren’t needed.” I thought he came to join library as a member and told him the procedure as well as fees.

2. Devendra came to say hello, disappeared and later appeared only to make me refuse invitation to his theatrical production of Vijay Tendulkar’s play :

“Jaat Hi Poochho Saadhu Ki.”

The title is contrary to Kabir’s popular saying. It seems to be a critique of social esteem given to monks and hierarchies. Devendra also teaches dance classes but there are no classes at present. I can’t afford to be among theatre people.

3. I was looking for the news in today’s newspaper. A murder. Piyush talked about it yesterday evening but it didn’t happen. It wasn’t reported.

4. The Haigo girl told me in advance that she won’t take classes after this month. It’s a blessing. She asked me to wait until the thirty first before, but now it’s evident. I felt a bit down for a while but then consolidated my strength as I have nothing to lose.

5. I borrowed a hundred rupees from Vandana and told her that I would give them back by the first of November. The secretary also said that I would get an advance if needed.

6. There are as many tutors as students. I hardly get any jobs. The only positive this morning was the bowling session: I bowled ten overs and played four to five jams where I scored top ranks.

7. I read a few passages from Nehru’s Discovery of India. It’s clear that his account of Kapil doesn’t match with Geetapress Gorakhpur’s version.

8. The madman who stays near Brijpura met me near Anjana Doodh Dairy. I asked him why he came so far. He told me it was for buying clothes: in his symbolic language. A cow was thirsty. I exercised my left arm a bit and tried to control myself by eating less than what is usual these days.

9. Vidyasagar Nautiyal, son of Narayan and Ratna was born near Tehri. His story “Maatiwaali” was read by my student. I could only focus on snippets. The refrain was:

” Is hunger sweeter or the food?”

I explained the class struggle in the poem. I told her about the dependent arising of sweetness. It’s dependent on meeting of hunger with food. Independently they have no sweetness. Sanskrit is a creative language whereas Hindi is an analytical language. Hinduism is an inclusive religion, Buddhism is an analytical philosophy. Jainism honoured classes in society and became almost integral with Hinduism which only objected perfect nonviolence. Buddhism couldn’t. Some ideas were inspired by Nehru’s comparison between Buddhism and Jainism.

Dictums

1. 11533: my rankings on jam despite only few people being present. Sudip C might be the one from Hall of Fame. I should check the status in the hall now.

2. I was tired but kept reading. Utensils have piled. I need to wash at least fifteen of them by tomorrow. The pull-ups were the point at which the caretaker of stadium asked us to not hang on basketball pipes. Piyush did it first when I was talking about the conjunction of causal and gross body bringing harmony in mind as well. It’s the secret of 1 and 3 or the thirteenth dimension: consider the gross body which you have right now to be the number one or consider it to be the causal body. Now consider the most subtle body of gnosis or the dancing light of grace or Cosmic Microwave Background or the visual snow: between these two: the bridge is musical pranav or subtle body or nameless name. When the first and the third work together: it’s life or birth. When they don’t work in harmony with each other: it’s death or sleep or swoon.

3. The convulsions or fainting or fever are the signs of death. The fear is sign of death. Fearlessness is given by harmonious interaction of first and the third. Death has to be practiced on a daily basis like life: it’s like losing your ball or balls or bat or bats or tool or tools or privileges or friends or family or relatives or courage. There may be a hundred examples. Death is change: change is flux. Life and death are continuum. You’re immortal: free from death, decay or aging.

Reference: Third Canto of Bhagvata: Siddheshwar Kapil Maharshi.

4. I narrated the handpump events to him. Couple of them: one near Excellence school VIP gate and the other near Boodha village. Atma Pariyojna. This was one of the miracles which confirmed the Tibetan Book of Dead (living and dying)

5. Dadhichi who gave his (bones) body for Indra’s army, when they needed to kill the demon Vrittasura: was an epitome of sacrifice for a good cause. He was reluctant. They convinced him. He was calm and didn’t even know when his body fell. You take your whole environment with you: therefore you never perceive the changes in the dimension. That’s why death and time which take form of diseases like Corona keep frightening you. What are you afraid of when you are everything.

How many deaths does it take to dream? —-Aakriti Kuntal.

The death of which the world is afraid is the cause of greatest of complete bliss in my mind: Kabir the mystic poet.

Die oh Yogi die : death is sweet. Die the way Gorakh the stubborn dies.

Morning Running!

1. 30 balls.

2. Class in morning was an assignment where I did very well.

3. The burst of tyre of tractor.

4. Discussion about miscellaneous topics in library.

5. Kapil defines life and death in the third canto of Bhagvata thusly:

When the causal body is not working in sync with the gross body: it’s death.

When the causal body is working in sync with the gross body: it’s life.

The definition is succinct and clear in the scheme of three bodies: gross, subtle and the causal.

Gross is your body: made of various organs: skin, head, hands, legs, face, feet etcetera. Subtle: your thoughts. Causal: dancing light of grace which is synonymous with unstruck sound.

It means: unless you pay attention to the causal body: your consciousness becomes localised in ego structures, which results in the death or life force becoming weaker, whereas : gross body working in sync with the subtle body means that life force increases.

I might be able to read Garuna Purana in library after a few days.

United Nations World Food Programme. Help Alleviate Hunger in the world.

I just raised 17000 grains of rice on Freerice! For every answer you get right, 5 grains go to the UN World Food Programme. Play it here: https://freerice.com/apps

1. I had a nice meal after a long time.

2. I also had a glass of milk.

3. I went to the library of Gandhi Smarak Bhavan. There I helped cleanse the rack and enlist some more books in the new catalogue.

4. I got an opportunity to play cricket with my friend after I asked if I can join them in catching practice. The battery of the phone had drained pretty fast as I was listening to music early morning.

5. I calculated and I had only 70 rupees left for the next three days, which means only 20 rupees per day. One plate of Poha in breakfast needs 10 rupees everyday. I don’t have any scope for buying incense sticks to create fragrance in my room. I recognised that dysentery was because of taking cold milk and cold water for enema. I prepared my food by heating it and I saw a lizard wallowing in its own past.

6. As I was taking milk from the milkman who came from Chhaapar, he asked: what the tally counter that I was wearing was used for and I told him : “you can count on it.” I saw some goats coming from the left. They were all wearing Tilak and were coloured like people after the festival of Colors. The tone of the milkman indicated the insinuation for sacrifice. Inland Empire. David Lynch.

7. I saw a very young boy, carefree, roaming around the players. A kid was looking at the scab on his knee.

8. Puritans created Nazism. Aryans. To forgive helps to forget. It helps you absolve guilt. Let everyone live the way they feel peaceful. A man asked where Arya Ji was the moment I started cleansing the dirt on Kasturba Gandhi’s portrait. I showed them the way.

9. Couple of hours before the students arrive. I need to take some rest.

The Blue Bird!

1. Listen well, oh wise one, I will reveal you an eternal mystery!

2. A kingfisher perched on an electric wire. A squirrel was rubbing its ear with its toe. The black bird with a crest asked the kingfisher thusly: pray tell me oh blue bird, why does this emptiness sucks me in, like dust particles are sucked by a vacuum.

3. The kingfisher said: listen well oh beautiful bird: the emptiness is not empty nor does it absorb. It’s your seeking which suffocates you.

4. The meaning of life ends in preservation and proliferation. It’s all about forms which are better, endurable and useful.

5. The knowledge is not illusion but the desire to gain knowledge or to prolong life is certainly illusion.

6. The blue bird continued as the black bird heard with surprise: listen well oh wise: the knowledge and its use are two different domains.

7. The knowledge is neither true nor false. Use makes it so.

8. Life is energy. Fundamental energy exists. Science admits it. Spirituality admits it as well. There is no confusion about it.

9. As water can’t long for water and fire can’t long for fire: life can’t long for life. What exists can’t desire to be. Desire always indicates lack of something. If life doesn’t desire, it must be an illusion. All pleasure and pain borne out of such longing must be illusions too.

10. Desire to live or to die are inherent in forms where life considers itself limited

11. There is neither a beginning nor an end to this timeless illusion which is supported by the timeless reality, like dreams are supported by the sleep.

12. Intense seeking ends in wondering. Nonseeking is the foundation for seeking but it’s primordial and at rest.

13. Those who seek eventually find what they seek and then retire. That which is true can’t be denied by either Science or superscience. Only the application makes one deluded because it’s parting from the perfect rest.

14. Master Ganesha went out to play, with clay! Lay down baby boy babu is on mount Abu said the master Saabu, a playmate.

Effort

The trilling warbling chorus of slaty colored birds. Well, you do seem interested. Kingfisher sings. The mules walk one after another. Seven of them. The last two nuzzled. The man on bike recognized me. Came back to chat for a minute. The Shepherd was being funny on bike with his wayward cow.

Another teen with yellow light of his bike and a smartphone in his left hand is yawning without license.

Well, what licence do you need to yawn?

To own a smart fawn?

To Donn a bike at the dawn?

None, whatsoever.

It rained last evening. Just a bit. The man from the future was an entertaining watch but nothing extraordinary you have never seen before and fat, ugly actors kept calling themselves beautiful. I hope that’s not Brazilian standard for beauty depicted in a mainstream movie. The movie was made in 2011, a time when many time loop movies were being made. The market for the subject seems to be dry now. Drayfuss omnibus busted stead succubus succulent lentil till entomologist falls ill or gets the gist of twist Ishtar tartar arra Rastafarian aria. Riata realty. It’s the day you hear nation state devotional songs around you which were actually created to make money for mainstream cinema. The edition could be sold anywhere.

2. An auto passes by with a loudspeaker playing a romantic song. Buffaloes. I was ruminating about my September routine for some reason. At one of my places of employment they are preparing sweets and planning for a fast. Whether sweets win or fast goes slow down time rhyme ancient enciente chime. There were more people and vehicles on road this morning. All people who are slaves to death, fear, aging and desires celebrate independence which someone got for them. The song you hear around you is a deity that is angry when a nation state is not satisfied.

3. My partner in crime is always out of sync with me. I go to North and she goes South. The first thing I do when I wake up is check my email.

4. I step out of the house and cawing of crows is the first sound i hear at the cross roads. I come across junkies everyday. It is a Saturday and they say the vehicle of deity of this day is Crow. Crowd. Download. Row. Rowdy dying ying yang gingerly surly curly cues. I go to the river to wash my clothes.

5. And there were no fishes. You know if my 15 year old self was to see me washing clothes like this besides a lake it would be amazed at the creativity of life. For most part of my life I was chasing mirages: things that didn’t exist. I keep shedding delusions like a deciduous tree in autumn. The only one that sticks is true faith.

6. I am. Beyond that, there’s no object of faith. Love sure feels chocolaty and all but it comes with grey hounds and prize tags and very conditions for it are good weather and sound economy with delusional faith in inherent goodness of life whereas all you see is staring rings of ghosts, ghouls and goblins. But at least a Life Locker is silver.

7. I do keep telling myself that this version of mine is wiser than the one that was here yesterday. But the big question about the end remains. If there’s no end: I need a comfortable abode and if none such exists, as told by the experience, there is not much left for me to do, and yet I will keep doing something or the other stating the obvious. So I prefer to be among those who have remembered and not among those who have forgotten.

8. I am looking for a greater source of energy. I travelled in time and I intend to repeat it with calculable and repeatable accuracy. I was thinking about life: you need to pay for everything. Even most minimalistic life style needs plenty of effort unless you were born with a silver spoon, which I was not. To fall from the favorable opportunity and groups you don’t need to do something imprudent: just be honest and truthful or keep your silence and you will be given up by one and all. You need effort to protect your body, your room, your reputation. Further effort is needed to prove you are sane: such as regular small talk with neighborhood friends. The effort required to protect your ownership of your girlfriend, wife or land or the facility leaves very little of humanity in you. Whenever I feel busy and restless because of being busy I remind myself of people around who are pursuing women, wealth, fame or knowledge. I think this is an effort only a few people can afford and maybe that is all the people are capable of. Beginning with an effort to protect your health it’s all an effort to live for the sake of living. Living is its own reward. A biker in shorts brings grass on his bike. Drowsy and unwilling he orders a tea.