sage

FORTUNE'S FOOL

Manav hated 6th of June. just as much he hated the RFID chip ( a tracking device that uses radio frequency and sends out information to a receiver) inserted into his medulla, exactly one year back. On 6th of June 2067, all humans on the face of Earth were RFID tagged to fight global terrorism and international crime. Today one needs RFID to buy anything, from toilet papers to medical insurances; to open a door or make a call. Authorities could even find out where you are, what you had for breakfast and with whom all you had sex with, yesterday. Everyone shared Manav's destiny but none shared his attitude towards it. They say it is the ultimate weapon against terrorism. Manav, the psychiatrist, somehow, was convinced that it was the death of privacy and Independence.

Manav decided to extrude the chip out; but not surgically. He knew that the chip was scrupulously placed inside the medulla, so that you would find yourself dead before you have the chip in your hand. Still, Manav had the right remedy for this tumor of slavery. All he needed was a shock treatment- the right voltage to fry the chip. Only the chip but him.

And he did it!

He checked and rechecked. The chip is out. Manav is free. He craved to tell this to the whole world. He craved to save the entire Humanity; but he could not log onto his PC for it did not recognize him. Neither did the phone respond. Nor did the doors open. He tried the distress alarm. No siren blared. Nor did the red lights flash. All these needed the RFID verification. It was not long before he realised that he got trapped inside the very room where he became free. He cried out for help. He cried out till he spat blood. The cries made way to incoherent howls. Eventually, he howled out his last breath. All the noise he made got imbibed into the cacophonic ambiance of the metro.

there is beauty in simplicity.

the one which is easy to miss.

Be shrewd on The Shroud!

Some eyes see

Some perceive

Some eyes register

Some analyze

Some eyes show nothing

Some show who you are.

A stray cat on the wall. She was taking a nap before me and my camera startled her.

Its high time I get some zoom!!

BIG CHANGE COMING UP....
Wait For It!!!

deliquium

Raven Eyes

No one took notice of the raven. All day long, it sat on the railings of our veranda. Its been doing so ever since the day my grandfather died. But no one took notice, until 2 years later when it was joined by another raven, on the day my father died.

Without a noise, without a flap of those jet black wings, they watched. Not any one of my remaining family could escape the feel of those heavy, hollow gaze upon our shoulders. Like the gaze of a dead man’s eyes. Focused onto infinity, yet pointing at us; Projecting their story, yet confusing to read it out.

Somewhere deep within my young mind, sprits and souls buried in the spiels told by an old gypsy were ressuructing from the tombs of forgetfulness.

Then they revolted.
They swooped from high above and hit hard on the large window panes of our house. They beaked and tore the cushions of the couch in the veranda. “Mad crows”! everyone thought. Gave them poisioned fruits and meat which they cleverly pushed away. Other crows ate those and died,but these two..were they behaving like frolicking children demanding attention? I now believe that they were more like wise elders warning their progeny of the imminent crisis.

Within days of these attacks, a row broke out and the once blitheful joint family was taking the wrath of an unknown curse. Gradually, the family shattered into countless pieces of emotional islands.

One has to endure a lot of pain to long for a homecoming.
I’ve been yearning to come back to my home. I’ve been yearning for two decades now. There was a ferine calling deep within me which eventually brought me back home. My home; where I spent my golden childhood, now lay forlorn and lifeless. I walked around the house, cheking things and planning maintenance. I climbed the concrete stairs to the terrace. Dried leaves were crumbling under my feet, wailing about a long lost glory. I could feel those warm memories of a life I had here. They were dancing behind my ears; making fun of the pitiable present upon which i am pushing my life through.

My lungs began to fill up with molten lead. I choked. My nostrils tightened. My eyes swelled. I would have cried like a new born if I had not drawn up a cigerette and took a few puffs from it. Suddenly my eyes struck on two black spots through the plumes of my cigerette. I was being watched…;were they the same old ravens?

A montage of events cascaded into my mind.
The ravens had not quite quit watching over me. I now remember seeing them..through the window of my exam hall; through the rear-view mirror,while on a road trip; on the balcony of my new appartment..
I was not speculating. I was being watched over my entire life. I knelt involuntarily, dry leaves crushed under my weight. This time, I cried like a new born.

Epilogue

People whom we love, when they die, they never really move on to the afterworld as we believe. The bonds of love may be so strong that they always stay close; within and around us; only a realisation away.
The loved one whom we might have lost may already be with you..as a soothing breeze or a luminous moon, a sear friend o a favorite pet. They can be anything, animate or inanimate. For me it sure is the raven.

Surprise Visitors

Made in China

I've seen men burning their skin dark under the hot sun and shriveling their flesh dry by the salty winds, only for a night's bread.
They toil over these wooden planks, pulling the ropes and knitting the nets, only for a smile on their young ones' lips.
I've seen them waving the passers-by and cheering the fishing boats and sharing the handful of daily catch, only to save humanity from disgrace.

The ramp of one of the many traditional 'Chinese Fishing Nets installed by the esplanade of Cochin.

Final Destination

Anything..and everything, breathing or non-breathing has a final destination.
This is not mere death. This is not mere cessation of existence. Final Destination is the end of the duty that is assigned to us on earth. It is the reward for a complete life.

A decommissioned transport ferry docked at Cochin Boatyard, obviously not ready for another journey!

Diving deep.

Blogging has caught on with me.
Oh! Actually, it's the other way round!
I should have done this much before. But it is no use to spend the remaining time regretting, rather than sophisticating on it. I have a lot to share with the world and am currently learning the basic aspects of blogging only to do the same. YES, Blogging is indeed the info-paradise.

hermit cottage

Amidst the wilderness, bound by solid earth;

Speaking for itself, yet cryptic and disguised;

Once surplus with food, light kindled warmth;

Lay the relic of protection, succumbing to wrath.

An abandoned safe-house of a tribal community on top of a naked hillock at Idukky Forest reserve, Kerala, India.

Hope! In its most splendid form.

This small cutie did what it does best....attract!!!

Lifeless and life-giver

LoLike the last tears from a dead eye, dew drops cling onto the dried sheaves of wild grass.

priceless view! hope it stays the same forever!!

The stream we saw in the dawn is a golden amulet by dusk.

stones that save.

This is not idol worship. This is not religion either. Thus is how humans adore and revere powers mightier than him. This is how man prostrate before nature.
A worship place deep within the forests of Marayoor.

rising up

Peeping out of the cold shadowof the morning clouds is the majestic peak of the western ghat range. Imagine waking up on a majestic view like this!! We did, for 10 days!!

green chill

we once went camping..into the very lap of mother nature. Please don't narrow your field of vision when I say this...'I've never been to a more beautiful place in my life & I think I never will see a place like this elsewhere!!'
The Place is Koodakkadu, 4kms uphill from Marayoor town, Kerala, India.
We bathed in the bone cracking yet rejuvinating stream water till noon and then we lay on the rocks, breathing in the sheer glory of being in the wild, till dark!

The First Cry

man likes to fear the unknown.

fear is conquered by knowing.

knowledge comes through endeavours.

and thus my blog is born.