Few words before I end the day

To,

all the anger among the words,

I am tired but also angry, and I don’t know what to choose. But I saw others voting for anger.

He stood among them; among his underprivileged brothers and spoke (read as shouted) about their rights. He spoke about poor parents. He spoke about the hungry nights. He spoke about self respect and honor. He spoke for all of them. But I didn’t (read as couldn’t) see the picture he drew. I just saw his anger and the loud noise anger makes. I stopped trying to understand and came back. My anger is different from his.

Now isn’t that a universal problem? We just can’t see past our anger. Our temper rises to a temperature which reduces everyone else to a distant mirage and we slip past the gaps into a lonely dimension. 

Worthless dark confused city – population 1.

Other people become waves of irritable dust that flies around us. Can you find peace in a never ending sandstorm?

I guess I lost my step. See that’s what anger does! But what is more dangerous than anger? A state of no anger. Not a paradox. Just one of my observations so far. No anger leads to a comfortable life. Happy spouses, happily living in their duplex and raising two kids and a fat account in the State Bank of India. Spare me. If a man be judged by his wants, you are going to judge me by the house I live in, the girl I’ll marry, the clothes I wear and the kids I raise. Fuck that. My anger keeps tearing my possessions from time to time. Consistently living one life after the other. Thank you, anger.

Is my sand disturbing you?

Look at my handwriting, so dirty (can you see?). Am I tired or angry? Are my hands shaking or steady? Are my eyes fully open red or semi open watery? Ha! Pass this test. Not for me or for you but for the sake of anger. Anger, the burning end of the soul. Drown it in fuel.

My hint: Do think of anger coz’ it is always thinking of you.

Regards

Angst.     

Visual appeal

Some evening I was cycling to the reading room. It was downhill so letting the cycle do its work. On my right, the sun is setting behind the clouds. Not the everyday cover of white clouds at a distance but floating mountains of bluish orange soft cotton. They will wring themselves dry any minute. I wanted to keep looking but I had to watch the road too. The choice of selective sight goes deeper. The undeniable limitations of our sight can only help us with one direction (or perception). At any point of time, we have the choice to stay with what we want and ignore the rest. We may never even know that 'the rest' exists. But 'the rest' does exists. It is very much alive and well.
The question... How can we know what we don't know (Ontology), and more importantly, how can we know about one thing when we are looking at another? 

Infinite

I caressed all the raised dots but can’t understand a word. Damn I say and I can hear him giggle. I open my eyes, ‘It is not fair’.

He takes the paper from my hand and reads it out. ‘Friends Romans countrymen, lend me your eyes’.

Giggles into laughter.

‘Here, catch’ I throw a sponge ball at him which kisses his forehead. He sees the joke and keeps laughing. I see him laugh, I miss the joke.  

I hold his hand and walk back into the house. The sun is too bright on the verandah.