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.

Drizzle!

1. The library has seven entries and exits.

2. As i began sweeping and dusting off i recalled tomorrow’s meeting of grade three government employees union presided by Trilok Singh. Trilok means ‘three realms.’ The full name means ‘The Lion in three realms.’ Vinoba wrote a book called ‘Third Power,’ which has many copies in library. What he meant by third power wasn’t government class three employees. It shall be covered in another thread. Three realms: earth, heavens and the underworld. Hinduism calls third power as ‘Maheshvara or great power of dissolution.’ The word ‘Sanstha’ or ‘institute’ means ‘dissolution’ or ‘pralaya.’

Library, Gandhi Smarak Bhavan Chhatarpur
Three entrances and exits
Light and Air!

3. Wanted to burn garbage. It’s drizzling. It took me an hour to sweep.

Routine

1. Listening to music and checking the blog. I had some rest before I heard them reading my mind again: in their tone.

2. Cleansing the drainage line outside this house was made difficult by voices. I knew they won’t let me do it because they need a polluted environment to operate.

3. I burnt some garbage and disposed some after sweeping this room. I took another bath. Now this is going to be the place where I need to teach English Grammar and vocabulary to my students. Once I have some money to buy a mirror and another lower I might walk towards Brijpura again.

4. Catalogue of books. Sickle . Communism. Kerala. Dileep Jacob’s father. I had a Poha. The guy with tshirt written on it ” the lost ones. “

5. The players in the field were frolicking. I could have exercised control on my emotions during cleansing ritual but I didn’t want to carry it forward. Let’s make it more interesting now. Ideaphorea.

Eyes Wide Open

1. The parrots were feeding on the same ground where I had uprooted carrot grass as my first field exercise two years ago. It drizzled as I was walking and then as I was taking the class. I had a tea and water balls.

2. The black moth is flying. I sometimes think: when I am most experienced, I am poorest. The first one was by birth, second by choice and the third one was because of being prey to optimism. You can’t keep both–the lifestyle of your choice as well as the capacity to buy unless you are an accomplished alchemist.

3. Radha Ashtami. Anuradha constellation transit of Moon. Seven years ago when prasadam was given to me in the temple where I had reached after running away from house(‘house is not the home’ is the name of the chapter which was read today)–i was told that it was birthday of the divine potency which is the governer of bliss. It is considered that nobody enters the divine abode Vrindavan without her permission. I considered it a synchronization as I had no idea about it before I made my mind up for escaping duties, job and marriage. I had to exit from Vrindavan because of the same divine will which had taken me there.

4. The difference between words. I was thinking about the possibility of watching a movie but it seems I have no time. The drilling machine overhead did seem boring and musical at times but I have to manage with the night hounds which come unannounced. Is this what sanity feels like? Crickets are chirping and vehicles are passing by. I hear the flute orchestra. The author who wrote Jaina Darshana–Ratanlal Jain -didn’t impress me least bit. The forgetfulness is a flurry of ideas for sure and each identity takes some energy but the sense of it all being dependent on ‘existence’ never goes away. Between an adept who has gained mastery over death and one who is seeking: countless number of hours of work is put from the seeker’s viewpoint, who is in the temporal realm shaping a world of his own, one among infinite number of possibilities whereas the adept is beyond time, only immersed in itself timelessly and formlessly. Formulae might be useful but knowledge as a whole is synonymous with reality, with perfection and can’t be contained. I recall her eyes in the last class when I let her go and I knew it right from the first moment I saw her, but the eyes that constantly watch me never let me go.

A Crow, A Crowbar and A Couple of Mules!

1. Transport vehicles have a story to tell via messages written on them: one says: “man doesn’t become unhappy because of his own pain but because of giving pleasure to others.” Another says: ” mercy is the cause of unhappiness.” It’s not amusing but certainly off the mark as far as philosophy goes. It’s a Saturday and two strange things happen: there was a man walking before me with his hand in his back pocket: as soon as he disappeared in a street while I stop to take a picture of a crow, two mules emerge out of the street suddenly behind me. Tapping of their feet continued quite for some time as kabbalists are at unrest. A man carrying sand in a red trolley abuses the TCIE express truck driver. A duo on bike whisper in the ears of mule “you’re acting like a goon.”

I take some pictures and keep walking. A kingfisher flies from left to right just before the pulley. The small truck was carrying plywood. I saw the deaf man coming with a puffed up chest towards me and the man in the black shirt was carrying a crowbar. I took the picture of a crow. It’s Saturday and Saturn rides the crow they say. I kept watching the parrot until it disappeared. I observed another group of birds chattering on a mandap. I was wondering if the truck guys were genuine. Barely three of us and he asked me to help him push the truck as his battery was down. I asked him to call more people and he did. The truck started and we shook hands before they disappeared in the drizzle. They were going to Gwalior from Satna via this route. The reason they stopped might be: a superstition, a lack of permit or the probability that they were drunk or carrying something illegal. The guy who told his name to be Ravi didn’t have straight answers to my questions, neither did the other guy who said he was named Sheru. I recall that event when I gave a hand to a trailer, before that a bike. The bike event did seem genuine but now I doubt. Master mason “the mentalist” told me about the “asking for help because

2. Tears started flowing down my cheeks because of her unconditional love. The man on the first tea stall was blabbering some strange things while women were brushing their teeth with neem sticks. At the minute I left my house some women were doing pooja. The kuntal lady stopped penning verses after being diagnosed as KJ mentalist.

3. Though it’s a strange world but everything has to add up to 8 as it’s a Saturday. A taxi passes by with a song playing. It names women as characterless and everything dependent on money. Why women need to pass all test? Because men are the designers. There’s no proof for men creating women out of ribs but it’s good to go.

4. And soon that break also becomes work. As far as I am concerned: I neither rest nor work. Some people who are addicted to work keep working even in the sleep. A van with the name ‘Udandasta’ passes by. It means a flying squad. It’s not flying but it’s called so for some reason.

5. It’s a strange world. The student wanted me to focus on the chapter. He was rude. He neither knew the meaning of Science nor knew the meaning of literature. He is a sixteen year old shaped by the modern education which has mostly dumb people in positions of authority as truly educated people like Dhaniram are not found on any chairs. I am amazed at the games a bunch of people play. Superstitious people who neither want to let you live nor let you die in peace. It’s a rigged game. Devil may care about the details : you just care about the retails. The old man needs 150 grams of mustard oil for massage. Ganesh brand. The kid can order pizzas but he imagines that his best friend is an under nineteen cricket player who never has the time to talk. He might be doing this just to escape the harsh reality. The void. He might be interested in becoming an actor more than a cricketer. I really don’t know how the synchronization of murder, mayhem and revenge is orchestrated but like romances there has been not even an iota of truth in any comeuppance or poetic justice. I don’t know why they want to plant it in your mind that being vigilante is good. The best course here is to move out first thing.

Nowhere!

It’s the world photography day.

A squirrel is trying to nibble at the blue shirt hanging on a pillar.

A lizard looked out of ventilation of the bathroom yesterday, near the same place as it was raining cats and gods.

Dragonflies and horseflies,

Buzzing zing,

Amazing birds,

Though he charges ten rupees per tea,

How does he maintain the same quality per serving,

Is a mystery. I have served tea.

It’s drizzling and a piece of plastic chair is my seat under the neem tree.

If I were asked to live a memory of this life again,

It would be this.

The tree leaves are dancing,

And all the faces which were familiar to me have completely been erased from my memory.

The freight train passes at random times. The passenger and the express are no longer running. I look towards the track which might be used as the pathway in Winter.

Yellow butterflies flutter by.

Rustling leaves, emptiness.

Heavy vehicles on duty.

Heavy duty.

Free from desire. I never had any.

Many birds commingle on a branch,

They look innocent,

They sing jingles,

Bells chime,

Words rhyme,

It’s about time,

A portal opened,

A doorway,

A snoring ring,

A quiet bird perched,

Quietly on an electric wire,

Oblivious to oblivion,

Immersed in its own glorious fumes,

It looks at the caravan of moths,

It looks at the grass,

It ponders,

It twitters

Its chirping is terse,

It looks at the timeless dance,

Eternity.

It was here, now it’s nowhere.

Mystery

I saw an ant. The ant was looking for an easy meal. After having finished the tea with snacks: I went for a walk. The scenery was breathtaking today. The weather has been kind of kind in the last few days. I finished reading the book last night. Dark groves behind the shade. Dark black clouds all around: it was more than I ever needed: the most deeply engrossing Beauty. Is this, the thing I had been walking towards all my life? Noise is not my voice– said that blackbird. I wanted this journey to end. There was talk of infinity and freewill but you are always forced to chose and when you are trudging: you are bound to walk with either resistance or with acceptance. I was never scared of the woods– said that little bird. Everything is food in some way or the other. And I am always hungry for more. No one will ever take this away from me. I am. World is. Knowledge is merely deconstruction of delusion. It is not impossible to find out what is true. Nothing is true for nothing is false. A poet is looking for a blissful balance and an utilitarian is looking for useful things. A bird is looking for its home. It’s sitting on its eggs. Hoping for all the eternity. I wonder if we multiplied like cell division: would it have made life look like rainbows. The gestation period is gruesome in humans to say the least and yet most women are subject to it. We are mostly out of shape and add deformation after conception of it. “I’ll let you know when I have a child,” the girl said. Logistics requires logic. I walk the empty walk and sometimes I punish myself for having been born. But who punished me to be bound in this cage called body? You are the one who suffers for making a choice. It’s a mystery. If you don’t choose: choice is made for you and if you choose you think you were responsible. It was always a closed contained game with limited choices. The story says: choice leads to choose. It’s a mystery. I’ve made all the possible choices in my life.