of thoughts, ideas and emotions.

Destructive Distillation

Hide and Seek

22 February 2008 by Vemana

I was in a different world, totally engrossed in my thoughts and actions. I was bustling by and dancing to the tunes of celebrated artistes. I was an odd piece of the puzzle and dint care about where I fit in. Suddenly I stumble upon on another piece walking the same path as I did. There was confusion and we almost trample one another. I halt and with a smile let him move on first and solve the mix up. Gracefully he walks away and I continue too. We were strangers sharing a walk and with each of us maintaining a similar pace, we struck a conversation of sorts. There was no obligation in the relationship, sometimes I moved ahead and more often he did.

As the time passed we began to walk in stride and an understanding had formed. Sometimes he got stuck behind due to other people and vehicles on the walk and more often due to his odd footing. Whenever we moved out of stride due to obstacles on the path, adjustments were made and the routine resumed. Soon the gap between our trails narrowed and he began performing new actions. He sometimes used to slow down or stop for a moment while I pressed on as I always did. Sometimes he used to go ahead and check out the ground we walked on. Sometimes he used to switch sides and move from left to right and vice versa. Why did I feel like he was on a look out for miscreants and in a protective mode? I dint ask for it. Sometimes he used to stop and scratch his head, take a break. What he did during these times I never knew completely for I had only seen him scratch on the occasions I looked behind out of inquisitiveness. After a while, he began stopping and scratching in my view; i.e. when he had to stop and do so when he was ahead. I just kept on walking as always. The companionship was accidental and not really riveting.

But soon something didn’t feel right and it was not the people gaping. The something was the disparity between the kind of life we lead or type of people we were. The differences became too obvious and soon very inconvenient. Frankly he was itchy, grumpy and too different for my liking. It might sound cruel after all the camaraderie we shared but I couldn’t adjust into being a friend. We were two odd pieces in the puzzle but that doesn’t endorse a friendship or any other similarities in the type of people we were. We were two different odd pieces which don’t pair.

It was time to move on from the paired walking. I gave subtle references to the dog to let me alone. It could have been to refined for a canine brain to process. I stopped, he stopped; I ran and he ran too. I began devising plans to cut the cord. Should I enter the supermarket and leave him stranded outside? It wouldn’t work because eventually I had to come out and he would be waiting. I kept on walking and scheming, dismissing a few options and weighing the others. He was persistent and kept thwarting all my plans and also drew closer to me. Shadows of fear began to creep in. He had lost all respect I had.

In another attempt to get rid of him, I quickly crossed the road and turned around to see where the bloody hound was. I couldn’t see it but I wasn’t relieved. My instincts told me it was somewhere around. I scanned and found it standing right beside me breathing hard with its tongue out. That was it, I shall abandon all subtlety and let it know that it was uninvited. I contorted my face with anger and raised a hand showing it a sign that I am capable of violence. It winced for a moment but then started following me again with dogged determination. It was time to play the dirtiest trick. I planned to take advantage of its weakness, any dog’s weakness, tackling traffic. I saw a slew of oncoming vehicles, quickly crossed the road and ran hard trying to escape the line of sight. While doing so I turned and saw its longing looks. It behaved is if it was the victim. Its antics raised questions in my mind as to integrity of my actions and who the victim was. Running the sequence of events in my head which led to this situation helped me justify myself.

I kept running and from time to time looking behind. After I entered a dark lane I slowed down and confirmed that I finally lost contact. Relieved I continued walking. The thought that it still followed me kept playing in my head. Suddenly I found something creeping up from behind. I panicked. When I realised that it was only a bicycle and not the dog, I calmed down and took the last leg home. Even when I finally closed my gates I had doubts if the dog ever stopped following me. Did it become discreet now and turn to vengeance? Does it know where I live?

Good days

20 February 2008 by Vemana

Days turn out to be of different types. Some are good, some are bad and some are boring and some are like any other.

Days of lethargy and inactivity are days I despise the most because they torture me with boredom. These fill in the(or rather fail to fill in) void between other types of days. Boredom is my nemesis; it brings out the hiding monsters of self loathing and depression. I wage battles with these fire-breathing dragons every such day and hoping not to be scarred for life and praying for a victory to see the dawn of a good day.

Days like any other are slow poison to my active conscious. I often have to perform mundane activities which I have done before and don’t want to repeat. These meaningless actions are like rats, nibbling away my morale and high spirits; intoxicating me with slumber. The prolonged trysts with semi-consciousness numb my thought processes and induces fear. The abject poverty in joy and diversity in my actions is detrimental to my enthusiasm.

Bad days have several combinations; they come in all shapes, sizes and strengths. Some doses are mild and can be shrugged off, where as some are too strong to be resisted as they weigh down with misery. Various bad days shut down different avenues of progress and joy. The repeated setbacks force me into a cocoon of doing nothing in order to fail in nothing. Any day which is not a good day ends up being a bad day.

Unlike other days good days are not ambiguous. They are unitary in the happiness they bestow. Good days are when everything turns out to be as you wanted it and a day would be better if there are some surprises in store. For me any day is a good day if I have been totally engrossed in doing something or the other irrespective of what merit it holds. On a good day I have different things to do, interesting facts to learn, several people to meet, various topics to talk and write besides the delicious food to eat. A good day is delightful mixture of the aforementioned with a bag of surprises. Surprises like; doing with joy things I did not want to do, performing with zeal activities I have never tried; disclosing feelings I have never shared; rendering someone genuine help and above all doing something creative, for the joy of creation is matched by none. Joy and satisfaction are what make a good day and these good days are the most important ingredients of a good life.