Wednesday, July 26, 2006

I Tried

The disheartening phenomenon has rendered me defenseless once again. Only, this time it has not paralyzed my eloquence. I am writing these lines because I am allowed to, because words have not forsaken me. Not yet, at least. Therefore I am taking the liberty of describing the sudden invasion.

Nonetheless, I am quite unsure about what final shape this monograph will take. Would it, once finished, qualify to be called a treatise on my suffering? Or would it simply turn out to be an insipid essay, which will demonstrate the depth of my helplessness? I am, as yet, unsure.

I do greatly value the time and intelligence of my readers. I am morally obligated not to waste the former, nor to tax the latter beyond reasonable limits. And yet, at times such as now - fallen prey to a disease that numbs the mind - I fear that I have committed the crime and driven my readers away. It is precisely this strange feeling, which usually consumes me enough to keep me from picking up a pen or pecking at the keyboard.

A peculiar sensation – as if everything worth writing about has already been written about, and as if writing any more would make no sense – creeps in from somewhere and overwhelms the mind. It usually attacks without forewarning, and there is no telling as to how long it rules.

It invades such powers of the mind as perception, thought, scrutiny, and reasoning. All of a sudden, nothing seems to matter. Creativity seems to have gone out the back door. Ideas do not appeal; analysis evaporates into thin air. A cruel void, an eerie silence - very different from the pregnant silence that results from meditation - remains.

Sometimes I come to hope that a short walk in the midst of nature would help. But then I recall that some of us have made every effort to corrupt nature with the concrete jungle, the exhaust fumes, the plastic roses, the contamination, and the incessant din. We have replaced the beauty of nature with all our filth. A short walk amidst those could only make matters worse; it might even be fatal!

If I ever bring myself to publish this article on my blog, it would be to record this disgusting affliction, for which I have not yet found an effective therapy, short of endurance. It would also be to record evidence to the fact that I did not go down without a fight.

And at this point, words do fail me. But I tried.

I tried.


Monday, July 24, 2006


Humble salutations to the opulent canvas of cognition, where thoughts, awareness and perceptions paint impressive shadows. The vibrant shadows come alive and engage in an animated dance, inspired by the founding factors. They appear so real that they are often mistaken for the absolute.

They are often construed as the origin of such distinctions as likes and dislikes, good and bad, love and hatred. Misconstrued, that is. Polar concepts appeal to the uneducated rationale. The sword of logic terminally severs the Truth.

Humble salutations to the laboratory of the human mind, where the simplest of facts are proudly broken into most complex equations. Complexity seems to be more easily palatable, and more acceptable, than simplicity!

The need of the hour is a simple realization that the observer, the observation and the observed are but a cohesive and indivisible unit, that relative fluctuations and distinctions are mere illusions, and that discrimination - bipolar or otherwise - is a ludicrous folly, an absurdity!

That would be demystification, indeed. After that, nothing would matter. Until such time however, my earnest attempts will be scoffed at. Not that I am left with any choice in that regard.


Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Beware of Kids!

Little Bobby (seven) was in love with Little Susie (same age) who lived next door.

One day, Bobby went to Susie's dad and announced (as seriously as he could), "I'm in love with Susie, and we're getting married".

Amused, Susie's dad started asking questions (in the hopes to discourage the idea).

Susie's dad: "Where will you live?"

Bobby: "Well, Susie has a playhouse in the back yard, so we're gonna live there."

Susie's dad: "How are you going to make money to support her?"

Bobby: "Well, Susie gets 75 cents a week, and I get $1.25 a week." "That should be more than enough!"

Seeing that Bobby was still serious, Susie's dad asked, "Well, what about children?"

Bobby perked up and quickly answered, "Oh, we have that figured out already. Whenever Susie lays an egg, I'm gonna stomp on it!"

The little boy greeted his grandmother with a hug and said, "I'm so happy to see you grandma. Now maybe daddy will do the trick he has been promising us."

The grandmother was curious. "What trick is that my dear," she asked.

The little boy replied, "I heard daddy tell mommy that he would climb the fucking walls if you came to visit us again."

An eight-year-old boy was charged with the rape of a grown woman, and though the crime seemed highly improbable, the state's evidence was overwhelming. As a last, desperate move, the defense counsel came over to the witness stand, pulled down the client's pants, and grabbed the boy's tiny penis for all to see.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the lawyer cried, turning toward the jury box, "surely you cannot believe that such a small, still undeveloped organ is sexually mature?"

Growing more agitated he went on, "How could this miniature member be capable even of erection, let alone the rape of a fully grown woman-"

"Watch it, mister," whispered the kid, "One more shake and you'll lose the case."

Tommy, Johnny and Harry were standing around bullshitting about how tough their fathers were.

"My dad went 12 rounds with Mike Tyson. Lick that!" said young Harry.

"Well, my dad did two tours of Vietnam and killed 19 men... so lick that!" Tommy said.

"That's nothing!" declared little Johnny. "My dad hasn't wiped his ass in 10 years... so lick that!"


Friday, July 07, 2006

Secret Affairs

The 1st Affair

A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon. Exhausted, they fell asleepand woke up at 8 PM. The man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt. He put on his shoes and drove home.

"Where have you been?" his wife demanded.

"I can't lie to you," he replied, "I'm having an affair with my secretary. We had sex all afternoon."

She looked down at his shoes and said, "You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!"

The 2nd Affair

A middle-aged couple had two beautiful daughters but always talked about having a son. They decided to try one last time for the son they always wanted. The wife got pregnant and delivered a healthy baby boy. The joyful father rushed to the nursery to see his new son. He was horrified at the ugliest child he had ever seen.

He told his wife, "There's no way I can be the father of this baby. Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered! Have you been fooling around behind my back?"

The wife smiled sweetly and replied, "Not this time!"

The 3rd Affair

A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the front door.

"Hurry," she said, "stand in the corner." She rubbed baby oil all over him, then dusted him with talcum powder. "Don't move until I tell you," she said, " pretend you're a statue."

"What's this?" the husband inquired as he entered the room.

"Oh it's a statue," she replied, "the Smiths bought one and I liked it so I got one for us, too."

No more was said, not even when they went to bed. Around 2 AM the husband got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and a beer. "Here," he said to the statue, have this. I stood like that for two days at the Smiths and nobody offered me a damned thing."

The 4th Affair

A man walked into a cafe, went to the bar and ordered a beer.

"Certainly, Sir , that'll be one cent."

"One Cent?" the man exclaimed. He glanced at the menu and asked, "How much for a nice juicy steak and a bottle of wine?"

"A nickel," the barman replied.

"A nickel?" exclaimed the man, "Where's the guy who owns this place?"

The bartender replied, "Upstairs, with my wife."

The man asked, "What's he doing upstairs with your wife?"

The bartender replied, "The same thing I'm doing to his business down here."

The 5th Affair

Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside. He looked up and said weakly, "I have something I must confess."

"There's no need to," his wife replied.

"No," he insisted, "I want to die in peace. I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!"

"I know," she replied, "now just rest and let the poison work."