Rendezvous with the Renaissance man

Waiting in anticipation for that dull afternoon to end, Sia looked at the seat to her right. That empty chair which always brought to her all the happiness of this world. How she was reincarnated when she had come to know that the chair would not have dried ginger faced creature anymore. She switched the system off, went out of the building and was home.

These meetings always excited her. Conversations with a potential ‘renaissance man’ over a cup of coffee as it used to be when she was 21. Things have evolved now-progressive or retrogressive-she prefers believing the former. This was going to be a conversation over a glass of Texas tea with good music playing. Probably like one of those mesmerizing evenings in Katmandu. Mountains taught her to enjoy herself without a renaissance man. She learnt to talk to herself with panache, Pink Floyd playing at the back. She missed the fresh air here. That ugliness in the oxygen she inhaled. She was getting used to it in past nine years and the ugliness befriended her hatred. The ugliness always produced that urge to look for a renaissance. Those imprints of calming sea and the man waking fearlessly convinced her that the quest would end this time. Her stop had come.

She got down from the train and found herself walking towards him. That idiosyncratic look in black and shaved off head, those brown eyes which warned her earlier also but it was an adventure and she just cared about conversations hoping to get some reflection, some light in the darkness. They were walking and she saw the guard and the place. Reminded of the last experience, she decided not to go. They passed it but she had already clicked the picture. She knew where the conversation would be.

Sia has always been like that-a cat. She was loyal to places and all the non-living things around. People did not interest her much except for this quest. She looked straight into his eyes; she knew the man can be trusted for everything. The only assumption is that he is a fearless bastard. She knew the bridge is not to be formed but the streams have to flow in parallel. They would never meet. The eyes were deep though; honest eyes screaming at her, ‘I will not harm you until you permit'. He went out for a while. She sloshed herself, hoping to be brainless but she knew deep down her brain is too evolved for that. She could never afford to be a woman. Her softness was to be kept locked. She would take it out only for infants, probably for her kids someday. Her heart, soul and body would be shared by one. She believed in virginity of her thoughts.

She did not want conversation to end. She wanted it to flow. It was flowing.The Renaissance man was fading now, and it was just those brown eyes she was seeing. She wanted to drown into them. The conversation was flowing. It turned into soliloquy soon.She was turning the pages back,'Memoirs of Kathmandu'.

The quest continues. ‘Mountains and sea don’t meet probably’. Sia sighed

The Dark Red

And I wish to see you in RED

Here I am in the darkest red,

It’s still haunting me, the ghastly site. The crushed, crumbled remains, red in color. I could not differentiate if it was an organism or an organ. I could see the movement, the desire to be back again but that invisible force gnawing it, propelling it towards the destiny. The mass is whittling gradually turning into red, the free liquid. The red is spreading fast and I am scared to get engulfed in the redness. My eyes closed in fear and exasperation, I pray and demand - the past is to be returned to it or it reaches the future soon. The macabre present haunts me. The redness is waist deep reaching up till the toungue, the slimy ,salty liquid and I could see the source still moving, organ or organism- I still don’t know.

A Super Perfect Eureka Moment: Discovery of a Constant

Mathematics always left some loose end in my head. A succinct illustration of a few:

Why is it that the number of constants is always lesser than the number of variables? Variables are x, y, z, a, b, c, d......continued to n and constant, a few I remember pi=22/7, or e.

Why is it that constants come in all the situations to support variables in getting the answer? A mammoth task of finding an area of circle becomes so easy when pi comes as an equalizer.

Mathematics could just make me acquainted with its geometry by passing tangentially through my head. My dad so much wanted it be a secant but it remained a tangent. I simply wanted to know the philosophy, constant and variables, and folks ended up explaining me the language. I am always bad at learning language. I flunked in my Spanish classes.

It's been seven years, I have officially left mathematics. It still puzzles me and remains my favourite subject. I never dared to officially accept the fact though. I keep exploring, thinking and wondering wonders of mathematics, deciphering the philosophy of mathematics hoping that some day that discovery of philosophy may help me in falling in love with the mathematical 'language'. The interconnections have been vague, the achievements gradual, yet consistency triggers the effort.

This morning when I woke up, a realization dawned on me,

‘A few constants and rest variables-that’s make the philosophy of life’.

A cyclic pattern repeats in my life. A feeling of sense of loss,emotions pouring from the heart and not getting a vent. Nothing comforts me during this time. I talk to people, smiling, laughing and get a li’l lost in between to see myself crying or laughing at the loudest. The way I laughed long back. The sense of pleasure I got as a five year old kid when mummy tickled me, when I rode on papa's back after he came back from office, when I wore my new black beautiful frock in a party, when mum arrived from hospital carrying a new child to play with. A li’l older I was and pleasure took a new direction. I was elated to see my crush secretly watching me and siblings pulling my leg, the day when I dated first. The way I cried when a man broke my heart for the first time. Life held meaning in those moments.

Conversing with God

You threw the dice again,
Two down to the south
Two to the north,

Together it made six but again I am in a fix!!



They said it’s all for good,
And I pondered, wasn’t that a better good!!
When I smiled I laughed. The absolute me
Absorbed completely in each moment

The seventeen muscles had put up the show,
in the unision the white pearls bowed,
The grand applaud, I could hear

And you just saw the trickle of tear!


You threw the dice again, pushed me for better
And I pondered wasn’t this a better good.

.!?

That loud laugh, that meek servitude, that lazy yawn, those dark black eyes, that intelligent comment, that condescending look...all the shades I see around. None is mine. I see more, look outwards to see mine...It reminds me of my recnt trip to a biodiversity park where I did bird watching. Black, red, grey, orange, white, big, tiny,...and then identifying them in my handy field bird guide. Its little differnt here. I know what I see outside but there is none to identify inside or is there none inside!!

Which one is my absolute moment? The one in the morning, that feeling of being a winner when the minute hand keeps moving and I refuse to bow down to the pressure of going to work. Five more minutes please..it's a lovely feeling. but then I am a loser when I reach to work late. That guilt comes in and I realise this is not my absolute feeling, ot my absolute moment.

Boozing, it's so much fun. Dance like mad and make few random calls to people and just blabber. It's all so plesant but again in the culprit 'guilt' spoils it all the next morning.

Eating the delecious italian food or perfect the south Indian at one of those favurite outlet at Defence colony, love it and continue lovig it till the time a pouch of flesh can be seen at my waist. The feeling is horrible. I come down again to boiled veggies.It's sad but then the reprecussions in the absence of this action would have led me into depression.

where is my best moment? My absolute moment which will just come. It won't be an absence of something. It would be an absolute presence.

Catharsis

It's one of those days when the molecules of thought have broken all level of mutual binding force and are hitting hard on the skull and hence I return to 'Catharsis'. All those molecules which were so close to each other once when they all actually wanted me to head towards one direction. They were my captives. What a bliss it had been; an absolute bliss in captivity.

I wonder why did I ever tried to insert something external to break the harmony. The one drop of it had no effect. It was gradual, very gradual. I have been checking the pace at regular intervals. The mutual force has broken in steps. I still remember. That intellectually stimulating conversation at one of those coffee shops. Those questions which I had never asked to myself.I thought it's just one of those conversations but I am not me anymore. It has hit hard. The 'me' has again dissolved.The search has again begin. I am empty now See you staring with a smile up in the sky.You did that again to me. I welcome the angel.

Camouflage...

''Camouflage'' the natural defence mechanism by which an organism ensure its survival from the predator by hiding itself in the natural surroundings similar to its physical experience.

The scientific terminology, I first learnt as a fifteen year old kid. With my growing accademic degrees in the natural sciences, the word camouflage broadened its horizon in my mind. Various examples of it, a weaker prey like butterfly or squirell use the cryptic mechanism to save itself from predators. Even the predator like'tiger'uses camouflage to (hide in the bushes matching its skin colour)hidefrom the preys and attack them more efficiently. Killing or preventing oneself from getting killed, 'Camouflage' makes survival possible. None is exception.

The other day, I was pondering over the camouflage in humans. Homo sapiens, the one known for its sapience. what relevance does camouflage has on the survival of my species? The significance of physical camouflage is probably does not hold much relevance in the 'civilized' society. However, mental camouflage is evident in the behaviour of people. We can often see ourselves camouflaging. Sycophancy is a camouflage. To survive in an organization, a less knowledgeble person A is equivalent to a butterfly or squirel could be found to impress the higher authority B by constantly aligning his opinion with his B. In this case, the opinion held by B represents the leaf similar to the colour of butterfly. 'Cryptic coloration', that is what it is scietifically called.

Women if analysed carefully show an intersting mental camouflage. Being physically weaker than the men, they need some kind of defence mechanism to protect their integrity. Howsoever true may this statement may be, it seems gross to any civilzed men. Our social values ensures to tone down any mishap occurring becuse of this asymmetery in the genders. Ocassionally, we do hear of representation of physical prowess of men. For e.g. rape. A girl eqivalent to butterfly if spotted in a surrounding in contrast to her mental/physical state is prone to attack by a male. The mental harrasment faced by some of the talented women at work place by the opposite gender is also an example of the similar situation. In contrast, a woman who meets the expected social codes camouflages by geling well with the social structure. Even if she is impolite, she would act to be polite.I have seen one of the impolitest woman switching on to the polite behaviour infront of their in laws/boy friends/husbands. That is the survival mechanism. Thus socity becomes nature in figurative sense. Woman is a butterfly camouflaging is the society.

I don't see camouflage in a positive light. If I am a beautiful butterfly, I would like to be seen by all. Crypsis is unacceptable to me. I am extremely positive about progressive evolution of the human society. My appeal to all the women

Let us defeat camouflage. Show your feathers. Beauty desrves to be spotted and not to be hidden.

To be continued.............