Difficult

Pulp Fiction. Jules: I'm not giving you that money. I'm buying something from you. Wanna know what I'm buyin' Ringo? Pumpkin: What? Jules: Your life. I'm givin' you that money so I don't have to kill your ass. You read the Bible? Pumpkin: Not regularly. Jules: There's a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay My vengeance upon you." Now... I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, that meant your ass. You'd be dead right now. I never gave much thought to what it meant. I just thought it was a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. See, now I'm thinking: maybe it means you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here... he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could mean you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. And I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd.

Simple

4PM winter sky was so beautiful that day. Violating the general principle of not noticing the most obvious things around us I just happened to look at it. There was a fleece of clouds. Clouds arranging themselves in a jigsaw. Winds were at work and the jigsaw was coming along naturally and beautifully. May be it conveyed a very simple thing that day. That it is always coming along. Even if you just stand and observe, even if you don’t put any effort, pieces are always getting in places. Probably to tell you that it is not your job to interfere with them. One of the simplest things to understand I guess. That just don’t interfere, you are not even needed. Everything is so simple. The travesty is the fact that simple is difficult; most difficult at times.

Inanimate

The other day I was discussing attachment with her. Next morning on my way to school, nonchalantly my eyes fell on the miles my bike had travelled. 22k and some more it read. I never felt the 3 year companionship until that moment, never realized that it is and had been the most important cog in the machinery of my daily life. One day I will bid adieu to it and would replace it by something similar while telling it that it had performed its duties in the most objective way. It was there when I wanted it. It was just there always, required or not. Isn’t this love devoid of attachment, though inanimate?

Ahmedabad

The worst part is that it comes so late. The best is that it is here. The rickshaw wallas in Ahmedabad were the most honest I have ever come across till now. 2:30 in the morning if someone goes by meter without charging anything extra, that’s it. Watching the kids do most of the talking was such a beautiful experience. It is so amazing that sometimes these kids instill confidence in the grown ups, with all those simple and innocuous deeds. And so comes the thought which has been in my mind since then. Read it at IndiCorps office. “If you are here to help me then you are wasting your time, but if you come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let’s work together”. Special thanks to Dev Bhaiya for providing us with the shelter. Finally one more thought which I read in the IndiCorps office. “A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history”. There is lot more to come.

Off

The contrast cannot be clearer than this. Sitting alone here I realize that I have been moving on. Moving on, leaving behind the hurt received and caused, moving on away from that sense of belonging and fighting again to carve out an identity, just to move on once again. Detachment seems to have taken a new definition. Moving on with the dust of those crumbled dreams and wishing to reconstruct them, watch them. Moving on, on a timescale, with just memories of those moments spent with her during which time just stopped. In this whirlwind something has changed, something has gone unnoticed. I really want to stop for some time.

Eerie

Standing in that corridor I notice for first time in 2 months, how intricate is the grill. A big grill before a small mesh of wires before one more small mesh. It seems that it has not been made to keep the men inside but to keep their spirits as well; at least it has been tried well. I am still numb to all that is going around which is nothing but chaos and unintended one. Intended chaos is such a welcome and unintended chaos is a curse. What if you cannot even tell anyone the feeling of getting cursed? What if the allegation comes before the acceptance that you have helped genuinely? What if you never get to talk to her after the day you had the best talk of your life with her? What if there is no one around to even give a glancing look at your misery? Pace is so dangerous sometimes.

Oil gives me an eerie feeling. What if you someday just drown in it? Gone without a trace, cry as loud as you can but no one would listen, not even your own ears. All you would hear is the globules of oil forming and bursting and penetrating.

Isn’t that numbness? All you hear is globules forming, bursting and penetrating. It prevails.

Run, Rain and Reminiscence

My eyes fell on that sprawling greenspread besides the road. The drizzle was still on and I was drenched, equally in sweat and rain. Oh memories, what you do sometimes. All that has been left behind, all that would never be discussed again, all those unsaid words, all those words said in vain and all those moments I am thankful of, but can still feel the pain. I am drenched, yes in rain and in sweat and I am soaked with all those leftover unexpressed emotions which are just there. Comedy it is sometimes when you think it, tragedy when you feel it. I can feel it now. All the love and hatred and some emotions which are still unknown, I can feel now. Mixed with sweat and the drops of rain, tears roll down. For all that innocence which got lost in the quagmire of being something and pretending to be something. For all those lost moments which have been beautiful at times or which I want to revisit and change again. Undo, sometimes is impossible to do.

It cleanses you. It does in any form. Water.