Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts

Wednesday, 17 July 2013

... and yet it's true!





They were not of this planet. Not even of this galaxy. Their home was a few million light years away from the furthest point of the universe. They were the reason for dinosaur wipe-out  It was not an asteroid. It was their spaceship. They had run out of gold. Their ship had been pulled into a worm hole the size of a peanut and the next thing they knew, earth was pulling them down. They escaped in an escape pod just as it entered the atmosphere and hurtled towards Mexico. That country has still not revived completely. The ship ran on nuclear energy of ladders. So when it crashed the nuclear explosion was so to say… elevated. Everything was gone. Well almost everything. Rodents are cunning creatures. They survived. They knew The Subway was always free of unnecessary heat and radiation.





Their home planet was mostly ice. They had evolved on ice and ice they needed to keep themselves alive. So they hung around the poles looking for gold and a way to escape. On their travels they realized what a big mess they had created. The dinosaurs were gone. The continents were breaking. So they decided to stay and make things right. The sky was full of smoke, ash and clouds of colors like shit. There was no light. So they accumulated these clouds and stacked them together. The sky was clear. And there was light.

A few of those shit colored clouds had scattered around in this endeavor. But that was permissible. They regrouped as much of them as they could and made them rain over a vast landmark that people later called Africa. It was big enough to allow a significant amount of space for what they called a desert. The scattered clouds made similar small deserts at the other places they had spread out to.


After clearing up the sky and making the deserts, they believed they deserved to have a proper place of operation for themselves, something like an office. They pulled in a few strings with the continents and assembled them in the certain way. Some of the bigger landmasses had to be broken away. This partition was more effective as well as practical. Boundaries were separated by water. Yet the dragons were heartbroken. They couldn't have their barbeque smokers anymore and flying across continents was expensive. Also there was this whole new concept of jet lag. Maybe that’s why they decided to commit mass harakiri. Only three of their eggs were left behind. Time turned them into stone. That’s how Daenerys Targaryen found them anyway. But that’s a completely different story. The continental drift, unlike Tokyo drift, lasted longer.  Of course it wasn't an easy job. They still tend to shift wayward even after eons of discipline. Though the pace is very slow. It was much like driving traffic on a jammed road. There was a lot of collision. Fortunately, by mistake, the Indo-Australian ran like a raging bull and rammed into the Eurasian plate. The land sandwiched between the two made the Himalayas. They had formed other home too. The Alps were one of them. But the excitement of a new home is hard to kill. Besides the Alps were ancient. So they waited for it to grow and gather ice.




Meanwhile the rodents and mammals had evolved significantly. They still felt sorry for the dinosaurs. It was fun watching the little raptors draw doorknobs on tree barks and try opening them. The Orange heads were reminded of their igloos back home. This gave them the idea. They set out to make humans. They set out to make them in their own image. They had no idea how much they would hate it later. It took a lot of work and a lot more Gold. But the time span it took the humans to learn what sarcasm meant was most excruciating. Even more than raptors making door knobs on tree barks and knocking on them. To some, sarcasm is still a foreign language.  


They tried telling people the truth about themselves and their stories the whole time, but something more important always cropped up. Alexander, Genghis khan, Hitler, the plague, the world cups and puppy love affairs are a few examples. The Sumerians were smart people. They made clay tablets about the Orange heads. Okay they were probably not that smart, but still. Who can tell if Steve Jobs actually lifted it up from there? The Vikings didn't find it hard to grasp the fact of another world. The rest of the world bi-polarized it into heaven and hell. It wasn't as precise as the Vikings had envisioned it but who was complaining. At least they were true to its heart. Heaven was a cool place which almost always appeared blue. Like ice. Hell was fire.



But the best were the Indians. Some of them at least. They came up with a theory that left even the Orange Heads baffled. ‘Everything is an illusion’. Now how can one argue with that? And then they grew Cannabis  One puff of hash and everything was actually an illusion. Even the Orange heads couldn’t deny that. They loved it so much that they became a kind of brand ambassadors for it. One of them once smoked so much in one day that his throat became blue. He sat on a mountain and didn’t get up for days. His friends, the other orange heads, tried to scare him up by putting a snake around his neck, but he still didn’t move. Finally when he got up he told them he had seen God. They understood that he was permanently high. It couldn’t be reversed.

The rest, as they said was history.

The massive use of gold had led to the scarcity of the mineral. Hence it became precious. Everyone wanted them. It became hard for the Orange heads to accumulate it. Life was hard. Hash was banned. They began spreading out into the human world, living human lives. That’s when they started hating it. The humans were still struggling with their shaggy dog stories. Yet the one thing they probably loved as well as hated about the human race was their inability to understand and appreciate a good joke.


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                                                                                                     -- kafir.

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

Of Stars and Dying Souls.



I have looked up at the stars with longing in my eyes. Even with envy at times… wishing I could possess that glow in my heart… that infinity in my reach… For what does a restless mind crave but recognition. And what does a dying soul need but peace. That blazing light in the heart…


The glimmering hope of darkest sky
O’ stars I wish I still could fly…
Like I soared in my childhood dreams,
Like I will the day I die…


I have a dying soul, yes. It’s stricken down with tardiness, contempt and callousness. It always has been. Common human stuff… can’t help it. It regrets the day I was born. I have often heard myself mutter out loud for no apparent reason --- “Not Again, DARN IT!”
I believe (though suspicious) it could be the voice of my soul. After all who would be happy getting fried over and over again? (APART from the brainwashed chicken souls of KFC who believe their only ambition in cosmos is to burn in animal fat. Yes, it’s gross. And God of course, who keeps getting grilled in the fire of logic. “Oh no! Not again, DARN IT!” Could be his pet phrase too… (But that is, if they both exist.))
   


Just to be clear, I’m not subscribing to any belief systems here. Those eternally doomed chicken souls should deal with their problems themselves. My dying soul’s repetitive “not again…” is a mere reflection of deep inflicted desires about finding peace through change. I’m a revolutionist after all! We all are! We all want change according to our own perspectives. Some tend to be for personal benefits, most for common good. Yes, it's true. I speak from experience. A little introspection will prove it you. Man is, after all, a social animal.
 But then comes the downfall. All our noble ideas go through self rejection, eyebrow arches, hesitation, subjugation, repeated tramping and treading and finally vanish into oblivion. What survives, is the world we know of and see as today. No wonder it is dying too. So am I. So are you. And so is our collective soul.


But don’t get me wrong. I’m not the physician here, nor am I the way seeker. (Yet). I neither have the medicines nor the prescriptions. I’m merely the death news bringer.

Yet I choose to bring the message of hope.

There has been enough digression in the name of religion and tomorrow. Every thinking man must make his own religion. Be the God of him. We must give our ideas a better dimension to take form in.  Shake off this delusion that we are sheep! We are spirits, divine and free. Nothing can hold us down. Ever.

I've never doubted that one man can change the world. Indeed it is the only thing that has!


These human bonds restrain my wings,
Though silent, stifled --- my spirit sings…
A song of hope, a song of fire
A song that burns on reins of sin.

And as these flames take heights anew
My imprisoned dreams can reach out too…
The sickness burns and burns the pain;
The world seems better, so does the view.




I look up at those stars with a longing in my eyes. Wondering what they might think of us mere mortals. They must look down to find the lawlessness of the universe, our ignorance… and start to wonder how the chaos in our lives passes on as just fine.
They won’t be very wrong…

But I’ve been thinking about the meaning of revolution. The beacon of change. Maybe it is a hope beyond me, but I find peace in my dying soul. A force which seems to strengthen it.
And the idea alone pushes me towards that light in my heart …and infinity in my reach.



    I know not much if Gods could care,
And make us what we are --- divine.
But I have looked up to see those stars…

And oh! How wonderfully they shine…  

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