Two of Us #2

It is unfortunate that a discussion on God will include or lead to religion.

1Life Hey

Neo Hi

1Life How’s things been?

Neo Wasn’t that my question?

1Life Well, go ahead then.

Neo How’s things been?

1Life This is stupid.

Neo You made it so.

1Life Hmph.

Neo There you go again. You know what, you’re one of those acme dynamites. Goes pop everywhere.

1Life I’m not going pop.

Neo Yeah, you could as well say you’re not alive.

1Life Yeah, I could. Because it would be equally true.

Neo You’re not alive?

1Life Nope.

Neo L, go fix your head.

1Life N, please. You’re the soldier, I know; you help me to fight. But that doesn’t mean that you deny your enemies, does it? You can’t just dismiss them, can you?

Neo Yeah, L, I can.

1Life There’s no use, N. It will exist even if you dismiss it.

Neo L, its existence depends on whether I believe it or dismiss it.

1Life Not finally. There’s a higher control over me. An authority.

Neo There isn’t. Even if there is, it’s just me. No one else.


Neo Sorry, L. I didn’t mean to bring you down.

1Life It’s okay.

Neo What’s wrong?


Neo L, what’s wrong?

1Life N?

Neo Yeah?

1Life Thanks, dude. Thanks a lot. Thanks — thanks a lot for sticking with me like this. Thanks for asking that question you’re asking right now. Thanks for all the wars we’ve won and all the wars we’ve lost. Thanks for fighting with me.

Neo L! What’s wrong? Tell me!

1Life You know, N, I’ve always, always wanted to have someone who would know when I was down and ask that question, you know, without being told — I mean, without me having to go and tell her.

Neo Ooh, so it’s a her thing here. Hehe, hehe.

1Life Nothing’s funny.

Neo No, I just thought, that maybe if it was not a her thing, then I could help. But I’m evidently not a her, am I?

1Life Nope.

Neo What about your girlfriend?

1Life She’s fine, okay. I love her.

Neo That wasn’t my question.

1Life Then what was it?

Neo You know, L. Can’t she tell when you’re down?

1Life Sometimes. Not always. But if she gets to know, she tries to help. That’s what’s important.

Neo Maybe it’s just difficult to know you’re down. Maybe you don’t show any signs.

1Life I don’t think so. I talk little, I keep staring at everything without actually looking at it, I — I look worried, dude. Even my parents can’t tell, and I keep wondering how can they not. Am I not looking down now? Am I not? I should be.

Neo You certainly look worried now, worrying about worrying. Hehe, you’re stupid. You make it harder than it has to be.

1Life Yeah, N, I suspect that’s it.

Neo You don’t need to suspect a criminal who’s already serving a term in prison, L.

1Life Hehe.

Neo Look, I made you smile!

1Life Yeah, yeah.

Neo Now cheer up, or they’ll be replacing that Thinker statue with you. Go call her up, and fix your her problem. I’ll tell you, L, that problem doesn’t even exist. It’s in. your. mind. Got that? Now split.

1Life Thanks, N.

Neo Whatever. Remember, when there’s a war, you got my number.

1Life A-ha.




#1#120906050 / 14050150.




It’s a fine evening in this part of the world and I have an urge to write something down. Of late my concentration and patience have been wavering, and it’s not good news for me.

I have managed to fall in love lately, not for the first time. Yeah, I know, there are folks who believe it should happen only once, but sorry people, I find it hard not to care about and love more than one person in my insignificant life.

But let’s leave all that. Can you tell me what love is? [Oh God here he goes again with that boring age-old question.] No seriously. Why are we attracted so much by it? Why does this particular emotion eventually become a necessity for us, like a survival kit when you are lost in the jungles of Lifeland? Why does it have to stand in life as the inevitable thing you have to experience sometime in your life? And why is it so strong? They call humans selfish creatures, those humans. Why then can we find no better way to relieve our minds than to love someone?

Listen, reader. I don’t know what kind of person you are or how much you believe in reason and logic and purpose and all, but let me tell you, after a certain level, the higher questions are answered by intuition and emotion, and not by intelligence and deduction. Because that’s the world up there. The world of reason and logic and justification is just a creation, a product of that world.

I am not saying dump reason. It is the only path to reach the stage where you have to acknowledge the reign of the non-reason over the reason, of the intuition over the intelligence. They are like the a for apple, b for bat which wasn’t comprehensible or self-explanatory or even meaningful in themselves, but they were the stuff that let us move on to bigger things in English and let us look back at it and justify its significance. So is reason and logic the staircase to the true language of the universe. And just like the rules of English, there are well-defined rules and logic in that language too, but just as the kid learning a for apple won’t understand the rules of grammar, so are we oblivious of them. But they are there, friend. The language that pervades all and breathes in every element, the language that the universe is written in. It cannot be captured in pen and paper or any other human media. In fact, the only medium that can perceive and speak that language is the language of thoughts, and that too not our confined, practical thoughts. Free your mind and you shall speak it.

When ripples of the higher world reach our world (actually they are the fibre of our world. I’m talking about the times when the language presents itself more nakedly) we are overwhelmed. Reason is drowned out in the flood of emotions that engulfs us. We do not understand what it is; we do not try to break it down with our clumsy reason because it is much, much higher than our reason. We can only feel its presence and we just let ourselves drown in the language. Do you know what I am talking about? Yes, love.

Don’t question it like I just did. The answer cannot be written down in paper. It cannot be spoken out loud in any human language. In fact, it cannot be comprehended by human thought snuggling up in its womb of a lifetime of imposed and enforced flimsy reason. You can only feel it.

And when you do, you are speaking in the same language as God.



Some ‘I’ Facts…

I am dragged by colourful skies.

I want to be strange and weird, but can’t always be.

I want to be brave, but I can’t.

Sometimes I don’t want to think, but I have to.

I hate anger.

I want to call up my friends but can’t.

I blame myself for almost everything.

I like talk that sounds official. Like ‘we have a record for a stolen pre-owned vehicle’.

I believe in miracles.

I hate butterflies. I am afraid of them.

I don’t like people who are always smiling and laughing.

I don’t like popcorn.


Don’t even ask why I wrote this.


Thoughts Are Wild

Thoughts are wild. They may be yours, but they have minds of their own, and can land you in trouble. You call them your own, but you have little control over them, and all the while there is quite a separate world whirring on inside you; it has its days and nights and memorable events and rainy days of sadness but essentially it is an enormously strong clockwork machinery you can only sometimes feel, but never control.

Thoughts can make you suddenly dreamy, or full of emotions, or happy or whatever without telling you why, and you wonder about it; you wonder if you know all that goes on in there. The truth is that you don’t. You never knew that you loved that girl till she had that accident. You never knew that you would be so nervous giving a speech on a subject you love after crying yourself hoarse about it for uncounted months among friends.

Well, that’s not all thoughts can do. They can do more than that; I assure you. They can sometimes make you wonder who you are (if you are that type of person), they can make you sit up on bed in the middle of the night wondering what it’s all about, and they can sometimes — and this is the worst — they can sometimes convince you that you don’t exist, and you may start crying about it, but that won’t make it stop. And all along they are true. This huge world inside you is so much truer than the world outside, its only problem being that it’s much more uncontrollable than the world you live in. It may sound strange, but there it is. The world inside you is much less in your control than the one outside. The reason being — and this applies to you, whoever, wherever you are (even if you are not human, in which case I must admit I’m happy that my blog reaches so many… er… living things. If you want my blog in non-human languages, please drop in your suggestions. Thank you, quack, woof, cluck, roar, meow, and the rest.) — that the world within is a part of a much deeper, and a much, much, actually a hugely bigger thing. That bigger thing contains all of our little inner worlds, and sometimes exerts control over it without letting you know, and that is why you sometimes get surprised by your own thoughts. The reason is plain now, I hope — they weren’t your thoughts. If you want to know what this bigger thing is, I can only give you a vague idea as of now: it’s like the soul of everything, the soul of creation, existence, God. Your soul is just one manifestation of it. Ask no more. You’ll get the answers some day, but by then you won’t have any use for them, for you will scarcely be you.

God, what did I start out to write? Really sorry. Anyways, since I have come this far, just one more thing: the world inside stretches much, much farther away than the world outside. It’s hard to believe, but that’s one essential quality of all big truths. They are all hard to believe. Just like I once refused to believe that the Maruti van had  actually a name —Omni.

Until later, unless I die tomorrow, which I would hate a lot, seeing that I have a girlfriend here I actually love a lot, and of course, my untamed readers in the wild. Quack mew. That’s thank you for the humans.


The Stolen Mustang

You find partiality in odd places. There is a ‘What’s Your Story?’ Space on MSN, supposed to gather good spaces from all around. There is not one Indian space mentioned there. I clicked a link that took me to the space of a woman who’s allegedly a behavioral psychologist, and there was not much concerning her work on her space, only a few pics of flowers and her mom. She is featured on ‘What’s Your Story?’. I am not. I’ll never be.

Let’s not whine, shall we? That’s not what I was taught.


‘Hello. This is XYZ Police. I am Officer Richard Emworth. How can I help you?’

‘I can’t hear anything. Hello?’

‘Hello. This is XYZ Police. How may I help you?’

‘Yes, officer, er… we have er… er… a car stolen.’

‘Okay. Whose vehicle?’

‘It’s one of our neighbours’.’

‘Excuse me, did you say that the vehicle belongs to a neighbour?’

‘Yes. He’s not at home, and he doesn’t even know about it. But I decided to report it.’

‘How can you be sure that the vehicle has been stolen?’

‘I saw it. I saw the whole thing. Three or four people, in a huge truck. Came and pulled up on his drive. They pulled the car up onto it and got out quick. His wife came out and started shouting but they were gone already.’

‘Whose wife?’

‘This neighbour. His wife.’

‘Oh. But, then… then why didn’t she report?’

‘Well, that’s a bit of a story, Officer —’

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for that now. What is the name of the owner of this vehicle —’

‘I’ll tell it quick, Officer. You see, the car that was stolen was her husband’s, not hers. Her car was driven to work by her husband today. And to tell the truth, Officer, I think she shouted just ‘cause she was shocked at the moment. What I really think is that she’s damn glad it was her hubby’s car and not hers.’

‘And you must be quite a friend here, eh? Tell me, what makes you report it?’

‘Well, you see, I thought it would be funny if I called the police and he answered. It would be freaking funny to report his car being stolen to none but him. As it is, it’s not him here. He always says his name when he picks up the phone, I know. And I don’t remember hearing that.’

‘Could you explain yourself a bit more clearly, or I’ll have to hang up. This is a public service institution, and I am afraid we are dragging this conversation too long.’

‘You still don’t get it? Oh, yeah, I forgot. My fault. You see, this neighbour of mine, he works in the police.’

‘I see. Vehicle registration number?’

‘How do you expect me to know that?’

‘Pre-owned or first hand?’

‘Er… pre-owned, I should say, although he’s always claiming he bought it first hand. But he says stuff like that. I don’t believe him. You can’t get a Mustang like that in the shops now. Ancient car. It’s really valuable. Beautiful bodywork. To tell the truth, you wouldn’t wanna lose one of those.’

‘Description please.’

‘Red Mustang, with a black stripe along the side.’


‘Red Mustang, black stripe.’

‘Hello? Are you there? Hello, Officer?’

‘Whose… whose, er… whose vehicle is this? Who owns this car?’

‘Dick. Sorry, Richard. Richard Emworth. Have you heard the name? Works in the police.’

‘Hello? Hello, Officer? Can you hear me?’