Along The Road To Future

Morality is the prime principle of a human society and it is evident through the behavior of each individuals living in it. It is this sense of morality that we humans often praise as a divine attribute but in fact if examined closely morality is only the byproduct or a necessity in leading a social life and so not a unique quality only for us, it has been evolving ever since our mammalian or reptilian or even earlier ancestors found more and more about the advantages of survival in groups, however as far as we know it has not evolved in a better way in any other social beings than that in Humans. The development of morality in humans took shape through their constant efforts to create a prosperous and peaceful social dwell; thus empathy, selflessness, reciprocation, mutual trust and fairness evolved as the basic traits that allowed humans to work together against the hardships that the planet threw at them.

Analyze, update and improve are the major attributes of Human brain acquired through billions of years of evolution, this is something the individuals and subsequently the society does through the course of its life span; it is the essential ingredient that enriches the future generations. In the course of Human evolution for a span of approximately 300,000 years their collective effort and intellectual superiority allowed them to gradually rise above their natural predators and adverse conditions in the wild and thus eased their mind from the fear for their life, this favorable condition freed up the mental space which lead to rational thinking beyond the confined shell of survival and procreation alone. The sun, moon, day, night, fire, water, wind, rain, earth, sky, ocean etc. were understood as powerful beings or the act of one for sure. But along the profound moments of the journey into becoming modern humans we started questioning the superficial understanding of our surroundings and the natural phenomena’s. Authoritative, dogmatic, ritualistic, instinctive truths were the tools that made our survival possible in the wild as an individual observing, analyzing and understanding might mean being the next meal for the predator, someone waiting around to find out the true source of the sound coming from behind the trees would have a lower chance of survival. Yet some have survived and passed on the spark of curiosity and reasoning, in due time they started questioning everything around them and started finding answers and soon this led to questioning primitive traditions and their protective shell called superstition. As the hammer of science one after the other hit hard on the shell using the chisel of reason and truth, slowly but steadily a way forward towards the true understanding is unfolded. It is an irony that the most cherished and profound characteristics of humans that is socialization which made the survival of our species possible and paved way to tribes, civilizations, kingdoms, empires and nations is also the reason behind the irrational behavior of humans. Blindly rejecting the scientific findings which contradicts one’s personal, religious or traditional truths and then forcefully preventing the younger generation from accessing the scientific facts in its factual form by twisting the contents and then replacing their curiosity with blind faith and belief, all done by simply injecting medieval doctrines and traditional nonsense into the minds of the children right from the beginning of their capability to sense something, killing the reasoning capacity of their brilliant brains and thus averting the advancement of societies and in itself the evolution of better morality into the future. Glorifying and pretending the existence of a Utopian past which was never present and adamantly insisting on the future generation to live by it instead of teaching them to update and improve will only lead to a result which won’t be glorifying for us humans.

First Touch

November 1987, do I remember the first touch? Wrapped in a white cotton cloth, hands and legs tucked in, bit bigger than my father’s two palms together. The skin was red and felt if touched will wet the finger tips. So small and delicate but yet so complex and amazing, a living breathing human baby and that is me for you. It won’t have been my mother that touched me first because I was born in a hospital and a doctor pulled me out into the world first and a nurse cleaned me up and put me by the side of my mother. First touch is the one which is remembered, it is by the one who did the touch or by the one who received it. Both the doctor and nurse have no reason to remember by birth other than as one of many of their tensed day’s work. Do I remember my mother’s first touch, I don’t but the thought of it makes my brain project my mother in front of me. It is not a high resolution image but a blurry one, stuffed with her voice in it, her smell and lots and lots of her emotions that I am so familiar with that it makes a mush of a memory from which I can’t distinguish what, when or where. With that mushy memory I can feel her presence around me, standing next to me though we are miles away from each other.

September 2009, do I remember the first touch? It was in the midst of a festival celebration, the entire college was in a mood of ecstasy. We both walked swiftly into a class room on the first floor. She stood near the entrance door inched from the room wall with her back facing it. Both my hands, palm pressed on the wall trapping her head in between. She looked up into my face; her brown eyes were searching for mine and soon got stuck to it. She looked into me and through me; I leaned forward towards her and pressed to her partly opened plum lips with mine. I do remember the first touch of her lips, I felt the softness of her lips and the sudden warmth as the blood rushed in to make it even merrier and sweet. How long we stayed like that I don’t remember but it was a feeling that my brain won’t forget till it ends.

May 2016, do I remember the first touch? We both agreed to have our child to be born in her home in Palakkad. We haven’t experienced this aspect of life yet and handling the emotional frenzy at the time of birth without the comfort of her mother was unthinkable. The other think that would have been unthinkable was me instead of her mother, the sole culprit of all her pain, patting her shoulders and comforting her while she alone suffers for our fruit of labor. It’s a mystery to me how she can forgive me and the child for all the inhuman pain she felt for hours. Is it the first sight of the innocent being that she gave birth to that made her forget about it or is it simply the extraordinary beauty of being a woman. I flew home after our baby was born. We had been apart for almost 3 months by then, technology kept us close in these times though not close enough to feel each other’s warmth and comfort. As soon as we were alone in our room I hugged her gently, both my hands held her head towards mine and kissed her on the forehead. She smiled and looked into my eyes, they were sparkling with joy and soon tear filled her lower lids. I kissed her again and tear started flowing down her lashes and wetted her cheeks. She turned her head and showed me towards the bed. I followed her and on the bed fast asleep was a small fragile being. The calmness of the universe was visible in her sleep, don’t wake her and cause a chaos in the universe, I thought. I sat down on the bed quietly next to her and ran my fingers over her small forehead, touching her skin and stroking her black greasy hair. Do I remember the first touch, I do, I do, I do.

Clay Pot

Clay Pot

Lazy as ever sat the clay pot peacefully on top of some rocks, above gave rain a place to rest and shelter for some lost leaves below,

Above dark clouds cried for a while, then stopped and looked down; saw the land below quenched its thirst but not felt for former’s sorrow.

Rage felt within and all sudden a white spark grew its roots below; the roar came consuming it after but not before lighting a flame yellow.

Son abandoned tried best to grow large like the fiery sun but alas couldn’t, in last breath it blow out a spark to the lazy pots below.  

Caught hold of the leaves and turned into a golden fruit, seek the sky above to tell that perish he not thus pushed hard on the clay below.

The flame flickered red then blue and red, ‘away from my way’ it cried out but soon tired send its heat through to teach the pot a lesson or two.

Red clay blacked and tightened below; soaked inside as much us it could but no more heat could it take and at last passed on to the water above.

Flame blamed the pot for blocking its freedom and water blamed for upsetting its state, but neither tried even to see the truth.

The whole world was there, some sided the flame and some the water and the rest sided none but just stood to watch fun that comes.

Some stood below simply see the black pot blocking and some stood above simply see the red pot heating, the rest far enough simply to laugh at both.

The pot sat idly on top of the rock, took all the blames with no rue and in turn prevented a quarrel between the two worlds thus brewed.

Eventually the fire burned out and so did turn the water to vapour; both blamed the pot for the one deed that to come helpful in their need.

The clay pot sat peacefully on top of some rocks, for ages likewise though fire and water will come and go always seeking the one to blame.

The Force Reawakens

It has been a long time since I have written in this blog and to say the reason for this was because I didn't have time to spare would be a big lie. To be honest I excused myself from writing by blaming it on lack of time. It was always, “I am tired so not this time”, “it’s late so it's time to sleep” and most often “the time isn't right as I am not in a mood to write”. Though I was lazy like this, all this time I was also too busy with my office work, there the only thing that I wrote was official emails and documents filled with official gibberish. So there it is, not following my passion is my fault entirely and time has done no wrong.

On this day I accept my mistake like a responsible adult and like a true Jedi I had the realisation that the force is getting strong around me and I have to reawaken the writer in me. You may ask, why suddenly now? Before I answer that you must know one of my favorite lines "Children are cute, joyful and fun to be around, only when you are not the parent". After marriage It is hard enough to lead a  satisfactory life, the compromises and the sacrifices both partner's have to make and then to keep, to lead a happy life of togetherness is beyond the imagination of an unmarried individual. In this now think what if a child comes along, the entire routine of changes has to change again to meet the needs of the newly arrived member. The entire order in a couples life will be shattered and new rules of dictatorship will be sited. Here the child is the supreme leader and the parents are his/her humble servants who have to live their lives only to serve.

All this being said I will come to my answer now, you might have sensed a disturbance in the force and let me tell you the force is getting stronger in my family. Rohini my lovely wife, the love of my life is going to give birth to our baby. You heard it right; I am going to be a father. The lazy arsed me is going to be a responsible adult. Though I am frightened by the alien responsibilities that I am about to face ahead, there is an air of excitement surrounding me that I cannot explain by words. I know when I am saying this that the feeling is the same for both of us, maybe she feels everything intensified twice or thrice than me on which I cannot complain as she is the one who is carrying the baby inside her.

I don't care now how hard it is to raise a child and how many sleepless nights are going to haunt us, I feel a happiness which I have never ever felt before, whether this will last forever or not I do not know. But one thing is for sure, the moment those tiny hands and legs touch my skin and the small twitching eyes gaze up on my face, I will be blown out of this world for sure.

An Evening With Her.

The sand rejoiced as they haven't seen such a beauty so close, they clung on to her naked feet, to touch her gentle skin as if it was their long forgotten wish. She was beautiful and so was she kind as she let them touch her feet without any bother. She giggled and hummed some old song while a small silver double ring on one of her toe’s shined brighter than the silver moon up above. Look, look how is my new shoe, she asked me with a playful smile pointing to her feet dug into the sand making her own sand shoes. She started swinging back and forth, enjoying each moment and dragging her legs on the white sand occasionally to feel its warmth. The odd creaking sound of the chain disturbed the air which was silently listening to her song without any movement. They suddenly rose from the trance and started moving gently through the palm leaves that stood around, then to the swing post and finally down to kiss her black hair.

She pressed her toes hard on the sand and carried the swing as high as she could. It felt like she flew up to the sky and touched the full moon with the tip of her nose.  The breeze still roamed around her as she stretched her legs straight and lay back facing the sky, swaying back and forth in that graceful posture. She was still yet was dancing; the stars who were watching her from above couldn’t resist joining in and so they started dancing as they desired, forgetting their positions in the sky. Her hair dangled down and moved opposite to her motion in objection to her not letting them join with the stars, they slightly touched the sand below and invited them to join their dance.  The sand was so happy as they enjoyed the dance and then turned to the sky to taunt the stars, saying that the tiny, shine less they were dearer to her than the ever twinkling them. It was all a treat to my eyes as I sat in the swing next to her idle and amazed, thinking to myself that how lucky I am to have her.

Lying In The Park

It was Sunday and I didn't intent to go to the park, it was a usual visit to my friend’s house and he literally dragged me there. Though it was almost 6.30 in the afternoon, I wasn't amused by the idea mostly because of the climate. It was mid-summer; the air was dry and the land still radiating the heat from the setting sun. It was too hot outside and I preferred staying indoor in the confinement of the concrete walls enjoying the air condition. Any way I am here now out in the openness of the park, the usual picture of a park doesn't apply to this one though. There was less grass and more sand, it wasn't crowded at all but still there were people walking in the walk way some alone and other in pair, chattering and self-indulged in their own world that they don't even care to notice the ones passing by. In the park there was a small playing area for children, with swings, slides and lot of loose sand to play on. There were a dozen of them playing in it, with plenty of laughter and chatter, while their less animated plump moms were sitting on the bench nearby indulged in serious conversations about cookery shows, their neighbor’s problems and the trouble they are having with their children. Most mothers thanked the schools, not for the elite educating their children got from there but for simply subjugating them for five to six hours. There is a saying in our country were most believes in reincarnation and karma that the worst enemy in one's previous life is the one that is born as his child in the present. But I don't believe in all these crap and to me I love children, they are innocent, simple, cute and filled with energy, above all when I am with them they make me a child who can be happy without any constraints of the adulthood. So here is my opinion, I don't care what most parents think, children are totally fun to be with, explicitly when they are not your own of course. In that moment of enlightenment my mind drifted into the future where I have a child of my own, may be two or more if I was that evil in my previous life. The cuteness, innocence and laughter, all disappeared from my eyes and all I could see was sleepless nights at first, compromised life style after and meaningless death in the end, all in the race to raise the child. I snapped out of the thought with a shock and looked at the children playing care free in the dirt, little devils in flesh and blood they are, I thought, playing all innocent and cute.

I was moving through these thoughts and before I was even aware of it I started walking with my friend, a few rounds around the walk way and I started dripping from my head to toe. Though walking seemed exhausting at the beginning, I started enjoying as it went. My body started to feel the freshness and more over my head felt light and all the tensions from my work just got erased. A little walk is not bad after all; I picked up some pace and started to jog. I am not a lean guy, not a muscular one either, a little bit over weight if you look that keenly, so like all those in my bodily category a sudden inspiration struck me, I need to take care of my body now, starting from tomorrow, evening is jogging time though deep inside I knew that it's not going to happen. Few more minutes passed and every inch of my body was wet, I searched for a nice place to lay flat. My friend was still at hard work while I lay on the grass, watering it and watching the dark sky. It seems the same, even though thousands of miles away from my homeland, it is the same sky that I used to spectate from the terrace back home. I use to make sword out of the Orion cluster and will fight the evil swordsman on their black horses, becoming the white knight for humanity. Into the unknown darkness I will swing my star sword, tearing apart the dark space and bringing light to all, the surrounding stars will twinkle brightly showing their respect and gratitude to the warrior. In that heroic memory I naively raised my hand towards the sky to pick that sword up, to become the knight once again.  

Always You

With a thousand friends,

And hundreds of channels,

Why is it that I still -

get bored without you.

With a thousand friends,

And world at finger tips,

Why is there only you -

to hear me out.

With a thousand friends,

And hundreds of groups,

Why is it that I still can’t -

find anyone like you.

With a thousand friends,

Mostly just a count of faces,

 I know, why is it that I -

would still stand by you.

– Algo

A Death Note

It’s been fun drifting through the uncharted terrains of life even if it was for a short while. This might be my last note to this beautiful world, the last trace of my existence that I wish may last long enough for someone to read and realize that I did exist. The devil that's been behind me from the very moment life touched the shapeless lump of me in my mother’s womb has caught up to me now. I can feel its frozen breath over my shoulders and its long fingers around my neck; it chokes me by sucking out the last ounce of hope.

The road in front has shrunk into a fine thread, so fine that I can't see it anymore; I feel its pressure under my foot threatening to break on each step. Hopelessness is something that I am used to enjoying these days, especially the severe pain in my stomach; in fact I am addicted to it now. The poking, pinching, stretching and occasional shower of molten metal inside is keeping me awake and clear, the morphine is an enemy; it drowses and prevents from screaming out loud to the heart’s desire.  Pain, pain, the only thing that is keeping me sane, I want to take more and more of it so that the darkness of fear won't engulf me alive. The moaning and crying of my dear ones will pass as I rest my head and spread onto earth as ash, washed away by the rain, carried around by the river, bathed, refined and finally resting gently at a river bed to be brought back to life again, by a tiny seed. Back to this beautiful world but now to spread hope and green.

P.S: I am Back…… R.V.K

Goodbye

Goodbyes are always hard -

 but this time I’m prepared.

Knew’d never get to say bye -

the way it is mend to be.

But this time I’m prepared -

to cherish each moment -

spent with you, for I knew -

it was time to say bye.

But this time I’m prepared -

to walk with you,

just like you once did,

guiding my tiny steps.

But this time I’m prepared -

to show how much I care.

And to thank you for -

all that I have become. 

by Algo

The Summer Rain

It began to rain at last,

after a long summer fast.           

Wetting dirt, filling hearts

with each cooling drop.

The sun peeked through,

the dark painted smoke.

Painting a piece with -

its seven colour stock.

The valley brought to life,

as the river start to grow.

The wilted greens bellow,

danced in the rain’s mellow.

The elixir of life touched earth,

ending the latent summer and -

life rose out to the crust, to

a new beginning and to life.

A Moment To Remember

Moments are precious even if they are buried deep inside long after they happen; they fuel our future life and make a better person out of us. Most people regret the moments they missed just because they hesitated even though it was in their grasp. The one moment that I promised to myself that I won’t miss to regret later was that with my true love, our intimate moments, worrying not about the society and its sarcastic approval ceremony for our life together. Love a memory that lasts forever was always a dramatic fantasy to me, with appropriate words uttered always and perfect scenes in romantic shades. How I will find her, how it will happen to me and how I will behave afterwards, all of this I have thought about in advance but when it really happened to me, I was stunned as there is no comparison for it in my puny brain.

Rakeesh my dear friend looked at me in surprise, my eyes were filled with tears, my brain numbed and my tongue tumbled like a choking engine to get a start,

“She called me”, I uttered finally in delight realizing that our love has acquired a pure, rare and eternal state, this is our platinum day of love.

It was only few minutes’ back when my phone rang, I grabbed it in a flash, it wasn’t the number that I was expecting but I pressed the green button involuntarily as my heart was pushing my body to its extreme.

“Hello” I said, the response from the other end was complete silence, with a faint rhythm of breath rising from its depths.

“It’s you, I knew you will call, you cannot break up with me” I rushed through the words so fast that even I couldn’t follow.

“Speak to me please, say something, don’t be silent” My words were filled with emotion which I thought I never had. There was a sudden burst of tears from the other side and she broke her silence,

“I love you, I love you forever”, her words filled my ears and a warmth engulfed me, we weren’t at two far ends of the line anymore but within one another. It felt deeper and finer now, our bud of love has bloomed at last and the fragrance was so intense that we spent the rest of the conversation in silence sharing our selves to the other through the realm of space and time.

Few hours back I was in my college, in her classroom sitting next to her. Since I first met her in the freshmen year I have never been this close to her and this first time wasn’t a pleasant one either.  Our relationship was a total secret in the campus and so most of her classmates were staring at us in wonder. I didn’t care about any of them, not even the lecturers; my entire focus was on her and her alone. She was sitting beside me, head down, face as dull as a sun less sky and one palm folded into other and thumbs rubbing.

Yesterday we talked about it and were sure that time will turn the tide to our favor, all we have to do is to wait it out but today she wasn’t her usual cheerful self. When I saw her in the morning I knew something was wrong and that is the reason why I was sitting beside her.

“What happened” I asked with a concerned voice. She remained silent, “What is it” I got restless.

“Mom told dad” she smirked and tears started to drip from her partly opened eyes to her smooth pale cheeks. It was feeling heavy inside me, with her each drop of tear; a weight was dropped on to my chest making breathing a hard task to perform.

“For the first time in my life, I saw my father cry, because of me, because of my love” she said and broke into tears. I wanted to comfort her but couldn’t, she suddenly wiped hard the wetness from her cheeks and turned to me.

“Let’s en..d it here, everything” she couldn’t say anything further, her eyes were drowned in tears. I stood up; turned to her “I never wanted….hurt…” I turned around and walked to my class, throat dry and eyes wet. The love of my life ends there I thought, with my friend Rakeesh I bunked the afternoon class and headed towards our dwell hoping to escape from the heated up atmosphere.

It was two days before it all started, her mother came to know about our love, the source was unknown but she knew all the details about me. She was a typical Indian mother and like all others thought of me as a thief trying to steal something dear to her. She confronted her daughter regarding this and after initial resistance my love had to yield to her mother.  She endured piercing throne of words and few physical blows for our love from her mother which by the way is unusual around here if it doesn’t occur. Later that day she somehow managed to phone me and told me all that happened.

And there started a new chapter in our life making our one true memory pure, rare and eternal like platinum.   

This post is written for a contest in IndiBlogger for “Platinumday of Love”

A Wish

Wish I could go back and

Let out all those words,

Once held back hoping

To set things right.

Wish I’d studied less and

Learnt more of life.

Ways to be content

With what I have and am.

Wish to just sit listening to,

The old wise sea singing.

Tales of those brave souls,

Who once walked her shores.

Wish to see just the good,

Even in the worst enemy.

Just as one tries to find

A light in the dark.

By Algo

My Signature

It is only been few weeks since I have got into a job after a tiresome year of wait and trial. It was a nervous time for me, a first timer in the spot light of expectations; I kept trying hard to prove my worth and worked harder to impress everyone. It was very difficult at first, it often felt that I am abducted into an alien world with no clue what so ever about my new surroundings and asked to survive by my own. Minutes seemed like hours and the technical journals on my desk seem insufficient to pass time any further. It was then, at those highly productive working hours that all of sudden he asked me to sign the LPO (local purchase order), it was my colleague who entrusted me with that sacred task. It was the first time I was going to sign in an official document since my entry into this company. I felt important for the first time there; a surge of blood to my brain lit my face up bright, with pride I looked around expecting few jealous faces eyeing at me in despair for getting such an opportunity. I wasn't dismayed at all, as expected there he was in his usual place outside the glazed window, staring at me with his two small but never the less spiteful red eyes. He was a pigeon, a creature of flight with a very poor sense of body colour and an unsteady neck which might me ancestral, he was so irritated by what I have achieved or may be by the heat outside, which still remains a matter needing thoughtful discussion, any way he started poking hard on the glass with his metal hard beak in disbelief. I took my pen out, pressed hard on it, made a hasty peep at the pigeon and smirked, with a smooth swish of my right hand singed on the yellow sheet. There it is, my signature marked in blue.

My name scripted in a lazy stroke, under lined and twice dotted at the end to give it a final touch, there it is my signature. I looked at it and the pride which filled my face earlier disappeared in an instant, “Is this my sign, it doesn't look much, it doesn't even have a style to it”. I was totally destroyed that the one thing that I could say my own with pride has let me down. There I saw a knife pointing at my passion to become a writer, how will I sign the autographs when I becomes a recognized writer, How will I look into my fans face when they see that their dearly admired author doesn't even have a good signature. So people I decided to work hard on it and in the process also came up with these going to be famous line 'Practice makes a good signature' 

P.S : True story, I swear...... 

Why Do I

Why do I often find myself alone even in a crowd.

Why do I laugh often but don’t really enjoy it.

Why do I sleep often and still feel tired.

Why do I astray often, even without a reason.

Why do I feel often like a shadow,

Of my old self with no life of its own.

Why do I feel often, like those foot prints on sand,

Trailing behind till you get far enough,

Waiting to be washed away in the waves of time.

Don't remember when I lost sight of myself,

But this I know that

I have miles to go and smiles to spread. 

by Algo

Home

I love to travel, meet people, see new places and fill myself with the freshness and love of Mother Nature. Though how far I go and how wonderful I feel there is always an ach inside me, a pull that disturbs me in my travels, the longing for something that I left behind, my home. Now I am really far from there, it’s not a pleasure trip but one to get a steady foot in life and so I reached the land of the Delmon civilization a year back. Hot and humid days in this sandy land make me wish often that I shouldn't have left home. How can a mild hearted tropical creature like me from the wet green lands of Kerala survive in this dusty island of palm trees. It is the memories at home that fuel me to withstand the blazing sun above and the boiling sand underneath.

Radiating calmness both in body and soul like an elderly abbot the vast sea surrounds me here, calm Sea and bright mornings were not something that I was used to. I was born in a village covered with plenty of coconut tree umbrellas, muddy fields and the sea not far either. Unlike that I see in Bahrain the water there has the mind of a teenager, arrogant yet full of life. It smashes hard on the rocks again and again trying to get freed from the man built boundaries and thus adding a hint of adventure to whomever care to stare.

I miss my land and the smell of the breeze that pats her all day long. The sense of smell is a wonderful sensation that can take you to realm of nostalgia. All you have to do is close your eyes and let it into your lungs through your nose; it pokes the brain and drags out the memories that are buried deep within. It’s often the good ones that are awaked in me, when I smell the air as few drops of water wets the thirsty sand; it take me to my childhood memory were I rest in the coconut tree shades all exhausted, praying at the dark clouds floating far away to sink the summer sun in their depths. Early morning sun heats the air and gives a unique fragrance, which reminds me of my mother’s face waking me up from my bed. It’s the smell that takes me back to my home and brings a smile to my face even when my eyes say I am far away. 

PS: This post is written for a contest in indiblogger 'Smelly to Smiley!' by Ambi Pur.