Trust - A Prologue !

Trust led to Black.
I had never wanted to post it.
But today I do.

Forgive me my Lord, for I have sinned.

--x--

0515hrs

The nail was safe and secure in the log of wood. The log of wood may have been dead, rotting, infested with termites, diseased with fungus but it was none the less a log of wood keeping the nail safe in its darkness and warmth.

But change is nature and nature is change.

we dont have the time
we dont have the time
the voices chanted
We dont have the time for a trial by fire.
We dont have time to burn the log and take the nail out of the ashes.

The nail was pulled out, denting its head, twisting its body. The nail was no good twisted and dented. It had to be fixed.

we dont have the time
we dont have the time
the voices chanted
We dont have the time for a trial by fire.
We dont have the time to melt the nail and forge it anew.

The hammer slips and hurts the owners hand.
Stupid nail
Hammer it harder

The nail is not straight enough.
Hold it down.
Hammer it harder.

The nail looks straight now. Hammer it into that new piece of wood.

Hammer it.
Hammer it.

The hammer slips and hurts the owners hand.
Stupid nail
Hammer it harder

The nail is not as sharp. Not as tough.
It bends.
Hold it down.
Hammer it harder.

There are just two choices. Simple choices.
Give up or give in.

No time to rest
No time to think
No time to feel

just act

everything thing else is a non productive action

--x--

Back

Torture will make a man say almost anything to make it stop.

I was screaming. The more I screamed. The worse it got. It did not stop.
It never ever did.
And then everything went black.

I woke up in my maggot. In my bed. It was warm inside. I took a breath. Warm air entered my nostrils, disappeared at the back of my throat and rushed into my lungs. Pushing against my ribs, amplifying the pain which had not left me since...
I did not know how this week had passed. I thought it was Thursday. I felt like Wednesday. My calendar said Friday. How did these days pass? I did not want to get out and face this day. A question like 'why' was irrelevant. It was black again. I did not know when I would be in the light again. Maybe sometime in the future, a tiny voice said. Maybe it was better black said another.

Being in the light was too confusing. Sometimes it was too bright and hurt your eyes. There were too many shadows. Always shifting, always confusing. It allowed you to see into the distance and offered too many expectations.

It was better black.

The world was even. The shadows never shifted. Your eyes only saw what you could see. There were no mirages. No horizons in the distance. No false expectations.

The trip outside was a valuable lesson.
I hope I heard learnt it well.

I hurt them too much.

xxx

My World - An article from 2006

“…..be grateful!
Our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real”
-Hannibal lecter

The 3rd of July was yesterday, a Monday. The day in the week I was born, now, like a new birth of sorts. My first birth was a rather unconscious affair. This however is not the same. This is a more conscious occasion. More like a spiritual birth. And a lot different from any biological birth. For here, the confines of the womb are left behind but the umbical-cord cannot be severed. Some things will stay. Parents, friends, creativity, drugs, sex, disappointment. What can change however is the response to these factors that influence the way we live. What can change is the way we conduct ourselves with relation to people around us. What can change, is imperfection to perfection.

Perfection, a word that can be rolled in the mouth like good wine or a word that creates that hollow feeling of lust in the stomach. The single most seductive and enchanting quality to strive for. For perfection is beauty that cannot be discriminated against. For it has no fault. And without perfection we are nothing but mere mortals.

And I will evolve.


Control! Control! Such …a colorful word. A word to wear for it creates perfection. And we are born, but naked. Then again, some clothes don’t fit that well. And some clothes tear when one loses control and falls down.
Beware my friend, for you may lose your clothes and all of it too, by your own devices. Standing naked in public for them to see, but choose to ignore is not a very cheerful activity I’m sure. Control, it seems, shall have to be controlled.

...

Sankarpur - Part II

Flashback

..Johnnie Walker...

....Crazy Bus...

..Phone Call...

Finally an hour later we disembarked at 14th Mile. To make our way to Sankarpur.

Part II

So Sankarpur was 1 odd kilometer from 14th mile and vice versa. To get there you had to avail the services of a rickshaw-van.... an indigenous motorized vehicle with three large wheels, an open wooden platform mounted on the two rear wheels with a bar running down the middle to hold on to for dear life. Many chose to not hold onto it for dear life.

So there we were, sitting with our legs dangling, watching the picturesque countryside. It was beautiful actually, watching fields, small lakes, palm trees and huts pass us by as gently phut-phutted to our destination. Upon arrival we checked into a hotel where the women ran to the washroom and the men to the bar. 15mins later Archie arrived and within the hour we set off for the beach.

The beach itself was not far. After a 2 min walk down the free acupuncture road we stood on the shores of the mighty Bay of Bengal, where we all stood in one straight line, looked at the sea, the sky, then at each other and said WOW in unison. Immediately after our well orchestrated appreciation of the view, Tatha and Archie scrambled off to chase waves as the rest of us walked along the shoreline.

I felt rather poetic as I looked around, and then...

...the music stopped. All ambient sounds faded into as the frame rate dropped and everything moved in slow motion.

This was not what a beach was supposed to like. Not with massive sand berms being constructed to protect a fast eroding coast from the sea at high tide.

A beach was once, this turn you made into the highway, down a bumpy road into the welcoming shade of tall, swaying tropical trees. On the shoreline the waves would crash against into each other, their visit to the beach marked by the sharp contrast of moisture on the sand. The water was a like a beautiful painting and in the evening a shiny round UFO brought visitors from mars.

[sfx]

Snap back to reality.
Snap back to now.

Snap back to a coast with vegetation like a decorative garland.
Snap back to fallen trees whose roots have nothing to hold on to.
Snap back to the white bubbly foam that is now the visiting card of the sea.

Snap back to the little man in the corporate Gucci suit sitting on my left shoulder. Wo'ah!!

Little man in the corporate Gucci suit: "Cm'on jayant, Don't you think being a little too harsh here buddy. I mean, what did you expect? This IS a fishing harbor. Didn't you see that fleet of motorized fishing boats further down the coast or that noisy factory making ice for the fish that needs to be transported by trucks to the city...

...look, I know you're upset, you know... ..the eroding coastline and all but trust me we got it all under control. Our new corporate vision hired that huge earth excavator that is constructing those massive sand berms to protect potential business interests along the coast."

Snap back to our disregard for nature.

-xxx-

Two days later we were back on a bus to Kolkata. Somewhere between our disregard for nature and this section of the blog, we had our share of fun. Oh yes! We frolicked about in the sea, ate great food, drank lots of alcohol and watched Archie pass out while he sat on the chair…..twice!

There is a message in Sankarpur.

Part I is our facade.. ..our denial.

Part II is reality.

Our changing climate is reality.

Sankarpur - Part I

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
said Lao-tzu....... better know as Johnnie Walker.

The journey of the first post begins with a thousand scru ups!
But Jai Mata Di. Here we are.

The team had been screaming for an outing for quite some time. Technically, ever since Gallup wanted to know if employees were deliriously happy or not. So on the 4th April we set out off on our maiden outing to Sankarpur, a quaint fishing harbor on the Bay of Bengal in the land of Maa Durga.

The Blog itself has two parts and the laws of numerical progression state that we begin with 1.

Part I - Getting there.

Yes! You read it right. Getting there. A bloody adventure in itself.

So it all began at my workstation. I was supposed to close work by 0600hrs. Tatha came to call me at 0615 and by 0630hrs we were out. But first some THC. Thanks to Archie who had spent the last 15mins rolling..... wherever, whatever.
Archie was not joining us. His sis's wedding was due and he was leaving the city on the 5th.

Tatha and I finally reached the State Bus Terminus 30mins late where the girls stood waiting. Fuming behind their shades.
Ah well...
Next.
The tickets for the state AC Whiteliner was all sold out.
So was the Private Volvo.
And the govt bus lines were too long.
So we booked tickets on a 3 by 2 Non Ac Volvo. Whatever that may be. Think Chicken Coop.
Now this was fun. The girls were all geared up to for the AC experience. Blow dried hair and all.

Finally after crossing a busy intersection, winding through a few lanes.... on foot. We reached the bus.

Now the Journey.
First the bus refused to move till it was full, which took quite some time as the entire population going the same direction as we were was apparently not as stupid as we were.
Next it took a long winding road to avoid paying a toll of Rs.125
Sometime then.

Ring Ring (for lack of better sfx)
Archie : Duuude! Where are you guys?
Me : In the Bus.
Archie : Dude. I'm coming.
Me : Where?
Archie : To Sankarpur, with you guys.
Me : Whaaat !
Archie : Sis's wedding is on the 7th of May. Not April.
Me : Alright. But how will you get there?
Archie : Don't worry. I'll get there. Just give me the bloody directions.
toot toot (for lack of better sfx)

Meanwhile the bus kept stopping every 5 mins for 20 mins. Finally 100 meters down the highway. It stopped dead in its tracks. No, no. It wasn't a halt for breakfast. The dammed engine copped it.
5 cigarettes, 2 mechanics and 3 spanners later we were off again.
This time for good. The bus driver really floored it now. Ferrari and McLaren would have been proud of our boy. Slowly the landscape changed. From city to industry to farms. Gray to black to green. The color of the soil changed from concrete to the reddish hue of agricultural land in West Bengal. After a halt to empty our bladders and stock up on tobacco, the bus driver set off in his quest to put the entire Fast and Furious community to shame. Somewhere between Mach I and Midnapore, our bus came to (you guessed it right) a screeching halt.

Looking out of the window all we could see in rural West Bengal was bumper to bumper traffic.
Please tell me this was not a political procession.
Apparently it wasn't. Some truck driver, eager to set the man to woman ratio right mowed down 10 men.
10 corpses, 3 cigarettes and 2 police cars later the road opened up.

15 mins into the journey. A lady fainted. Now this is the coolest thing I ever saw. She faints. People make the usual noises and some good Samaritan offers his seat to her.
Traveling Tip: When standing in a crowded bus. Faint and you are sure to get a seat.

Finally an hour later we disembarked at 14th Mile. To make our way to Sankarpur.
......to be continued

...