Sunday, December 30, 2007

The Ant


The ant pauses to watch the view. Breathtaking, it thinks to itself in its tiny mind. So big this world and taken in one view, so beautiful. Grand sweeping masses of rock, falling sheerly into the ground, so far far away.

So many other ants, all making such beautiful patterns in the landscape. The ant looked closely at some of them, they were killing each other. It winced and looked closely at another bunch.

They were all together on one ledge, not moving any higher, telling each other that this is heaven. They were quite happy and content. They looked so beautiful against the landscape in their ledge, weaving patterns that were somehow familiar to see and comprehend.

Other ants, helping each other up, telling each other the summit was not too far, making more patterns.

So many many other patterns, some the ant couldn’t see, some it couldn’t understand. All adding up to one breathtaking landscape. It was worth it, the endless toil, just to be able to see this.

I have come a long way, it thinks to itself, with gratitude. It looks wistfully at the struggling ants at the bottom of it all. I cannot believe that was once me, on the ground, starting the toil. “I wish I could help them”…

“But I can’t, not without falling all the way down again” it shakes its head in resignation. I only have one day to live. It shouts instructions as loudly as it can from where it stands.

Some ants at the bottom listen, and take the well-known paths, and feel the joy and satisfaction of moving ahead. They shout back their thanks.

Some ants take the well known paths, but the path is not right for them, so they fall back quickly to the bottom. They then yell curses at the ant on top for misguiding them.

Some ants ignore it, and make new paths, and feel the joy of discovery.

Some new paths are much faster than the old, but much harder, and many ants fall to the bottom attempting them. But some pioneers jump ahead much faster than all other ants in the regular paths.

Some ants ignore all instructions and take false steps and fall back quickly to the bottom.

The ant leaves them to their struggles, and looks up. There are a billion more ants swarming up. Some single mindedly to reach the summit, if there was one. Others pausing at times, to shout instructions to the climbers below.

The ant looks up at the wall, and listens to all the instructions, especially the faint ones. The fainter it was, meant the higher the climber must have reached, reasoned the ant, in its little mind. Then it decides which path is right…

The power of music


Music, it transcends boundaries, of region and religion, caste and culture. It is a miracle over mindset, spirit over the sanguine.

I don’t need to understand it, to feel it washing inside my heart and mind. With every flow, slowly eroding all the pointless walls I have built within. With every ebb, it takes away a little bit more of my reasoning cautions, making of me, a creature of feeling, not fears

Remembered sounds echo inside my mind, bringing back other days when I listened to them, in other lives. The memories of these lives come alive in my mind, some I don’t even remember living… Maybe, lives of the future, that I am too sane to see in my waking hours…

When I listen to the sounds of generations past, that mirror every emotion I feel, or want, it gives me courage, to think, to feel…I am not alone. There was someone here, who saw this, who felt this, who was also, once, afraid of this. This is a timeless footprint here, for me to understand, and if I can, take forward with me. To hug close, whenever I feel lost, to rage with, to laugh with, to dance with, to fly with…

The sounds of this song - they give me hope of a life beyond these walls,

Of endless possibilities that were and could be
If only I cared to see…
That the world isn’t really about me.
My mind builds pictures - Of soldiers marching through history
To certain doom, brave, bleak,
Knowing, they are never free, never will be
Of troubled youth resisting authority.
Of cries for help, peace, hope
Still echoing pointlessly
Or not, maybe…


I think of the power it takes, the power of mind and spirit and feeling that come together to produce music that will live inside a million minds, shape and mould them for humankind. The power that is rare and that we either know we have, or don’t. The power to change, within and without, that must never be thrown away…The power worth struggling and striving for…


This one's for you, my dear friend
To induce labor in your lazy rear end

Freeeek

Manet - Luncheon in the grass

I roam naked in the streets
I sleep with whoever I please
This here is my body, my mind, mine
Not your toy, your muse, your tease
Don’t touch me till I say – at ease!…

Cover yourself woman!
Shameless heathen bitch
Yet oddly arousing
Without a stitch
I’ll forgive this unholy travesty…
Note! My generosity!
Just…gimme some action

My lip, it curls contempt
O lord and holy master
You pee on the streets
And shroud me in veils
And imagine time will heal??!!

I like my women meek
Don’t you dare best me!
I must thrash, you, you bad bad girl
Pleasure and pain, they’re the same to me

Oh! Joy! Here’s a cattle prod
Lets test out that theory
Shall we?
I’m ready when you’re ready

You sick freeeek!
What else can I expect?
You bare all and roam the streets!
Pain is for you
Pleasure for me
Don’t you see?

Oh I see!! Aren’t I… The Freeeek?
I am not afraid of you or me
I am naked with dignity
I insist on being born free
I rage, not for dominance, just equality!

BLASPHEMY!!