Completely Wrong

I wonder what is wrong with me...besides me of course. That there was something wrong with me...no, not the first wrong with me about which I was wondering but the second one, that is the actual me that is wrong I mean...oh well, figure it out for yourselves, let me get back. That there was something wrong with me being me was known to me for long. I knew this when I choose the fool's day to be born. That would mean I knew I was wrong before I was born and further mean that I was conscious before I was born. That would of course mean that I was born before I was born. There is something definitely wrong with me.

Getting back to what I was trying to say, I feel that there is something wrong with me now otuside what is usually wrong with me. Now that is unsually wrong. I don't mind what is usually wrong with me, but unusually wrong needs to be looked into. The idea here is that, if you are usually wrong, then over time it becomes right to you and then only the part that becomes unusually wrong becomes actually wrong.

So I started by checking my head. I reached up and was mortified when I realised my head was not where it was supposed to be. My head for one might not look decent or respectable but it is a decent and respectable part when you see that it has been staying where it must stay (I guess it is over the neck, though sometimes I also feel it might be under the spine.). Decent and respectable heads don't walk off your neck just like that saying "OK pal, I'm tired of doing all the thinking at least whatever was there to be done now you try doing it!" It took me 15 minutes to realise that my hand was searching for my head about 5 inches higher than where it actually was (the head, I mean). The problem was I did not have my spectacles on. My hands are blind without the spectacles. With the spectacles they are still blind, but they don't see it then (see that they are blind).

The landing of the hands on my head was not exactly pleasant. This is due to the fact that my hair had at that moment got into a rather heterogenous composition of quite a variety of variegated stuff like hmmm...stuff. Listen, in simple words, my hair had the sort of stuff that Calvin would look at and say "Eww" before applying it all over him and grossing out his mother. Having thus confirmed that my hair was wrong as usual and not unusually wrong, I proceeded to face (rather hand) the face.

My face is something that has been very much wrong for an unusually wrong time. But that doesn't make it unusually wrong, in fact it makes it most usually wrong, if you can look at it the way I do. I have wasted a good deal of shaving razors, foam, water, keratin, blood and the other things that usually go wrong while shaving in an attempt to make it right, but it usually went unusually wrong so often that it ended up being most usually wrong. I reached upto my eyes and realized that they had suddenly turned into glass eyes. Then I read the previous paragraphs and realized that I had realized I did not have my spectacles on and so wore them and so I now have them on. I removed the spectacles and poked my eyes gently. I let out a small whimper and tears flowed (Why should the past tense of flow be flowed? I would have asked for flew.) from my eyes to my mouth tasting salty (the tears tasted salty, my mouth tastes...I digress). So, sight, touch and taste OK.

I reached upto my nose, up if you look at it from my point of view. The nose if it had a point of view (I don't mean a point from where you can view the nose), would possibly have an entirely different point of view about this whole business. When my fingers were about 30 cms away from my nose, my nose sent a panicky message to the brain saying "MayDay! Mayday! Make this bloody nitwit wash his fingers once a year." My fingers on the other hand (other hand in the metaphorical sense) sent this message to my brain "Paralyze me so that I don't have to enter into a mucus pit." In other words, the mucus was mutual!! But somehow I managed to check my nose through a set of complicated (pronounced obscene) procedures and made sure it was OK (usually wrong, that is).

Then came my ears...actually, my ears came long ago, almost about the time when I came, but they came now in a figurative sense. Messages similar to those with the nose ensued between the ear and the fingers. The ears however gave in sooner (actually it was the fingers that gave and went in) because they could not smell. It is a different issue that both the ears and the fingers smelt (rather stinked), but they could not smell. At first I could not hear anything. At first nobody heard anything (till somebody got tired and made the Big Bang), but this was not that very first...I mean the first in which I started checking my ears. Then I pulled my fingers from my ears and was able to hear. I put them in my ears (the fingers that is - I think I am suffering from a rather profound pronoun problem here.) and found that I could not hear again. I did this four times and was satisifed.

I then proceeded so on and so forth to check every other part - armpits (smelly and wet), back (smelly, wet and dirty), chest (goes in when I breathe out and goes out when I breathe in, very interesting) and bottom (position not changed with head as of now). I realised nothing was wrong with my physical self, unusually that is. I then started thinking if there could be something wrong with my mental self then. I thought for about 30 minutes with absolute concentration and concluded that it is possible for me to have a mental self. In fact, it is very much possible for me to have a mental self so mental that it might imagine a physical self. Now this got me thinking further. If my mental self was simply imagining my physical self, then my physical self might just be a mental self. This might mean that my physical self which is now a mental self has been imagining a mental self which was the original mental self which imagined the physical self which is now a mental self. To present the same idea in a brief fashion, I am now physically mental and mentally physical. I believe this is one of those metaphysical states, but you can never be sure.

And so here I am in a totally mental state which I mentally believe to be physical wondering what can be wrong with me unusually. Then I realise it - what is wrong with me unusually is that there is nothing wrong with me unusually. All that is wrong with me is usual at least as far as I am concerned. They might be unusual for some Tom, Dick or Harry, but I am not Tom, Dick or Harry and so it is usual for me. Now this is a very unusual thing for me. Unusual outside the usually unusual of course. Ah well, I guess it is just like me, as usual unusual!!!

P.S. Yes, I've completely lost it!

Mera kuch saman - a rerun

Mera kuch saamaan
chod ke aayaa hoon
us ghar pe

Ek toote hue ainaa
jisse dekh ke kisi ne nahin sharmaaye

Deewar pe lage hue kaajal ki daag
jisse kisi ne galti se nahin lagaaya

Bandh hui kidki
jiske paas kuch vaade nahin kiya

Kaagaz pe likha hua ek naam
jisse kisi ne aaj tak nahin chuna

Anar ki ek phal
jiski gulaab jaisi kisi ki chehra nahin tha

Dho simit the hue aankhen
jis mein kabhi bhi aason nahin nikhla

Thadapke kuch aahatein
jis ko kisi ne dhyaan se nahin suna

Na dil ko choda,
Na pyaar, na gham,

Bas,
meraa kuch saamaan

To the most beautiful pair of eyes in the world

Frightened black bucks run
fearing the cruelly bent bows
though they aim away.

Sun smiles from the pond
Branches reach for the water
Whom does the pond love?

P.S. I guess the cuisine is going to be Haiku and photos for some more time!

A Poem. A Picture.

Spring begets flowers.
Cold winter gives them coffins.
Tree always stands there.













Children bring their pain.
Father smiles in silent bliss.
The Mother is born.


















Birds fly in the sky
The temple stands on firm earth
Where lies our freedom?

Goa + Kodagu Installment I

Yes, that's where I've been hiding the past few days. :-D And obviously, every blogger is expected (or every blogger expects that he/she is expected) to post all the details of his/her vacation. :-)

There are four facets to this trip of mine and hence four installments to this series of posts. They'll be presented in decreasing order of mundanity (No, the word mundanity does not exist). So on with the post.

A resort is a hotel located in a resort area. I wonder if a resort area is an area with a resort hotel. One of those deep philosphical questions that can lead to Nirvana. The simpler way to Nirvana however is the

Swimming Pool

Be it a hot and humid sun or a mild caressing drizzle, there is nothing to match the feeling of soaking up in a pool of cold water. The swimming pool can at the same time provide both relaxation and gambol. The gambol comes from having a family that doesn't mind getting dunked and returns the favour with equal enthusiasm. Try getting into the pool with a mild drizzle immediately after you've been treated to a sensual

Massage

The massage to me was a slightly embarassing pleasure. I was reduced to a neanderthal state right at the start of the proceedings, in terms of attire that is. The thing that strikes you most in a massage is the masseur's hand (Sigh, how I wish I could put masseuse's hand! ;-) ). All in all a pleasant experience, but give me a plain old oil bath at home any day. Might have felt good if it had followed the

Steam Bath

For the first time in my life I was able to empathize with Idlis and Kozhukattais. But then my pain was more pronounced as I'm not as rotund as an Idli (or Kozhukattai). Perhaps I can add this to my exploits under the title 'Sixty Steamy Seconds'. Sounds like a B-Grade movie title. However this was much better than the

Sauna

I don't know why I entered into this contraption. I don't know why I'm writing anything about this at all. I should be better off writing about

Table Tennis

I wonder sometimes if I don't get enough of this in office. The animal inside you shows up often when you go for the totally unsolicted smash and end up hitting the ball right into the net. I never learn. Right now I don't know which is more boring - me going through all this in the trip or me writing about it. Well, one thing I do know is I better shut up now and put some serious effort when I write

Goa + Kodagu Installment II, Coming very soon

Cruel Poetry

Sunken eyed beggar
Begs my poet on the road
Then a poem came

P.S. I'm off for a week now. Will be back with updates to make up for the time. In the meantime comments on this poem are welcome.