Sad Love

He walked into her house and changed his shirt. She looked at him and felt love so strong within her. As always she loved him, even more now. She walked up to him and put her hands on his tummy and looked up into his eyes. As he looked down at her he could see the love in her eyes.

She said, 'I can't believe you are going to be three months pregnant in December'.

She hoped he could feel the love overflowing from her for him and her child inside him.

He said, 'I won't be able to fit into my shirts anymore'

She said, 'You can wear Jay's'

They both laughed. She stepped back from him as the sadness started seeping into her.

'It is sad that you don't like me even a little' she said looking down.

'Come here' he said opening his arms for her.

She went to him and they held each other. It was sad love as they stood in each other's arms. She felt the love, and as the seconds ticked by the love changed into sorrow and then the sorrow turned into the bitter feeling of knowing that he would never love her.

They broke apart and looked away while mumbling their goodbyes. She turned just in time to see his back before he closed the door behind him.

The Day Naa Turned into an Analytic Philosopher

Naa was a regular guy. He did what regular guys did. Ate, slept, drank, and walked. Walk he did, up and down the town. As he walked he would think. Think thoughts and about thoughts. This is the story about the longest walk he ever took.
The sun was shining as Naa was walking. He looked around and saw the shops. One beside the other they all stood. All independent and different. He entered Dick's sporting goods, and he felt like he was in world of sports stuff. He entered the lingerie section of Macy's and all he could see for miles was stuff you wore under your clothes. His mind was jumping around. He looked at himself in his panties in the mirror and thought hmm... let me analyze this.
He walked on reflecting on his time in the shops. 'What does 'hard' mean' he thought to himself. Things get hard. Hard is hard. Hard is not soft. These sentences made him worried. 'Hard' he realized was not an easy word to define.
He walked on and realised he was inside a bubble. He thought that it was unusual, but he loved it anyway. He touched the sides of the bubble around him and they felt spongy to him. Instantly it came to him, this bubble was built in such a way that very soon he would know what hard meant!
As he walked he paused near a wall which was covered with numbers. He looked long and hard at these numbers. He realised in this case him looking 'hard' was different from him sitting on a 'hard' chair. He could see in his head now. Some one around him yelled the word, "HARD". Instantly he saw it. Then he knew. The numbers were overpowering him. He was unable to comprehend their meaning. But Naa was smart. He could see that nothing ever in the world, ever, ever, ever could deny 2 + 2 = 4. In fact when he looked around to see if this thought was true, he immediately found the evidence he needed. A poor old beggar was sitting by the road counting his money. 2 + 2 rupees = 4 rupees. Naa thought to himself, 'Ha if this old illiterate beggar knows this it must be true for all!'
He walked around in his bubble, in fact he would now move from one bubble into another. He wanted to teach everyone what he had realized. He yelled it out to everyone on the streets. "I am the King! 2+2 = 4!" They heard him and saw him. 'Aye' they said. He told them people on the streets from his bubble, "Its not 'aye', you must say 'yes'. DO IT!"
Bubble to bubble he walked realizing how everything was bubbles. How Naa wished others would see what he could see. A world full of decontextualized bubbles. How it gladdened his heart! His enlightenment seemed to light up the whole world. The fire in his eyes provided warmth to all around him. The words within in brain spilled out and formed buildings and factories.
He walked and walked and the words in his head spun around faster and faster. Just words and words and world of words. He decided to sit down for awhile and think. He sat down for oh so long. That was it. When Naa stood up again he was not the same. This was the day that Naa turned into a monster.

Then we sang...

Oh Monster Naa
You Stand so tall
Taller than the trees
You crush them all

Oh Monster Naa, Your head is heavy

Oh Monster Naa
You try to shoot us
We duck and hide
But your gun is rusted

Oh Monster Naa, Your head is heavy

Oh Monster Naa
You forgot your bubbles
You are trapped in them
Your universal troubles

Oh Monster Naa, Your head is heavy

A Farmer's Tale

As I sit and watch the street, I am engulfed by a heaviness. It is so thick and it penetrates my limbs. My eyes, they watch, listlessly. They watch the people hurrying by, hurrying to which end I wonder. I know they are hurrying to get to somewhere. To work perhaps, some hurrying home, some just, hurrying. They walk over the filth, breathe the filth, touch it and taste it as well. Yet they don't feel it? Or maybe they do. But I see it. I can feel it with my senses, it has entered me now... it has claimed my mind? Perhaps not yet. I look up at the grey skies and I know, they are grey not from rain. The smoke from my beedi rises up and mingles into the grey. I track the smoke with my eyes till it has disappeared. The faded smoke has turned into the grey skies. As I stare above, I cannot help remembering the blue skies under which I was once. I once was, someone. A farmer.

The sky it is not mine. But it is blue. The fields that surround me are green. It is true that they are mine, but are they really mine? Could they have ever been or remain mine? The fields belong to my, my earth. All that I could call mine, is first hers. I plough, I sow, I water and I tend. But I also reap, and I share. I am happy because I am blessed by my earth. She has given me her best, her all. I try not to want too much, but sometimes I think I do keep wanting. Mother will forgive me, wont she? Here come my children now, they seem happy. I see my little Lila, my little one, chasing the butterfly. She runs playfully, full of joy. She is as fresh as the farms themselves. The life that runs within her seems to penetrate every tree, every animal, and every stone and every inch of soil. I lift her softly and look into her bright eyes and I see in them, myself. I see the fields, the skies in her eyes as she playfully tugs at my beard. I leave her and watch her run around the open field. I see her now, running away from me, further and further away. It is getting hazy now and I cannot see clearly anymore. The green of the fields blurring and merging into the blue sky. The colours swirl and mix into an ugly grey.

I realised I am back on the street, in the city. The grey skies looking back at me, cheerlessly. I ask myself why I am here? Why this filth? Where are these people going? Why do they want to live here? Why would anybody want to live in these crowds? This place is filled with filth, corruption, and evil. It is filled with desires that can never be satisfied. What are they looking for? Why do they pray and steal? Why do they laugh and kill? Why must progress be punctuated by violence and sorrow? Once again I asked, why must I build this road?

There was never an answer. I looked down at my still glowing beedi stub and I saw once again, a glimpse. A memory of the red sun as it set over the fields while Lila and I watched. Slowly the light went out. The sun had set. All I could see now were my soiled feel, in torn slippers. I dragged myself out of my dreams and stood up. The road had to be built, it was not mine but its theirs. The people of the city.

The day time stopped...

The Super Computer had predicted that at eleven hundred hours time would stop. The villagers were all in a frenzy trying hard to get into the best mood they could so that they wouldn't be stuck in a bad mood for eternity.
Tom the trench digger decided to hit the bar at 6.00am in the morning so that by the time it was eleven hundred hours he would be a happy drunk man forever.
Sela thought that the only way she knew how to be was to be depressed. She didn't know how else to be. It was her 'comfort zone' she always said. She looked at herself in the mirror and realised how impossible it was going to be to become a happy person before eleven hundred hours, because she didn't know how else to be. So she sat down on the road, waiting.
The busyness man walking down the street looked at her and kept walking. He yelled at anyone who cared to listen, 'Its all bullshit you know. Time never stops you know. The market will keep going up and up and I will be buried in money the day I die!'.
The grandma who heard him thought to herself, 'Oh you fool, you will never die.... how long must I wait my lord?' After thinking that she started walking towards the church at 10.37am to pray because it would take her 23 minutes to walk to the church.
The priest at the church knew she would come. He stood before the statue and bowed his head in solemn prayer, 'Finally I will be devoted to you for all eternity'.
As the young man drove past the street across the church he felt so happy. He wasn't thinking about the church. He wanted nothing more than to reach his girlfriend's house and put his penis into her vagina. Just as he would be ejaculating inside her, his orgasm at its peak, the moment would freeze forever. 'Ah bliss' he thought. He had it all planned in his mind.
The academicians were finding it hard to concentrate with all the noise on the streets of the cars rushing by. They were pouring over theirs books, talking, debating and discussing with each other what the consequences would be if time stopped? They couldn't agree on any one thing. Will there be no more change? Will everything stop moving? Will there be no more progress? What about nature? What about man? What was the wise man thinking?
I was thinking the same thing. What was the wise man thinking? As I stood on top of the small hill overlooking the village, I felt confused... If time stopped did it mean that I would be stuck in this moment forever? Would I have nothing to look forward to? Will I be haunted for eternity by my past? Will I be able to think? I am usually a happy person I thought to myself, but look at me now, I am confused! I started panicking. I felt worried I would be trapped inside my thoughts as the clock struck eleven hundred hours. I looked at my watch and saw 10 seconds to eleven hundred hours...
9
8
7
6
I was still confused and anxious about the unknown
5
4
3
Thoughts running ceaselessly through my mind, sweat pouring down my face...
2
1
A sudden wind that lifts the hair off my shoulders, my eyes close in contentment.....no thoughts....just peace.....
Time stops.

A Story...

The sleepless night looked on as the stars of its womb peeped over the clouds. Some of them were bright as bright, while others not so dull. They will stay forever my babies thought the sleepless night. How long? He didn’t know.

One night as he was sleeplessing around he thought, ‘what is it that I can do so that the sun never comes up?’ Ah! He got the answer almost immediately, he was a clever one. ‘I must remove all the impermanent things in this world, so that the sun never has to rise again to nourish these poor fickle and never-long-enough souls’. He thought what a world it would be with sleepless darkness everywhere. Never again would he hear anyone sing, “here comes the sun too doo doo doo”. He won’t have to hide again ever. As he felt all this, his heart bloomed with joy.

So started his journey to the dark side, where there is never any light. ‘Where is it?’ he would think to himself. But the answers never came. ‘I know who I can ask’. So swoops down and the chain tied to his leg rattles into the night. To the ground he asked, solid forever ground. The ground with all its dust and stones. “Where is the dark side? Is it below you?” The ground wondered and then said, “it is not below me, but perhaps it is in the blood that runs through the creatures with the ability to shake me. And laugh as they watch blood spread on me as a carpet and then seep into my cracks. “No No No” said the sleepless night. “it cannot be that for when they sleep, the same blood is at utter peace.” And thus saying he goes away disappointed to find that who he considered to be all knowing and eternal did not know where it is, the dark side.

So he thought and went on to see the wisest one of all, the wind. The wind rattled the window panes of a broken house and zigzagged around its favourite trees. It had heard the sleepless night coming towards him. “what is the sleepless night doing on such a black moon?” whooshes the wind. “I have come to find the dark side, do you know where it is?” “hmm…” says the wind, “hmm, I think it is in the hands of those mortal souls who shut me out at night instead of feeling me. But sit inside while they make their fantacies run wild with their mortal syrups”. “No No No” says the sleepless, “it cannot be that. Because those very hands also caress a baby’s round head. Disappointed once again, the sleepless night moves on. He feels a pull at his chain as the world keeps turning. Soon he will have to hide till the sun goes down once more.