Chaos

It is interesting to see how we react as a society to even the slightest of changes. A small deviation from the so called 'normal' sequence of life, and everything goes haywire. The change may be as simple as an unexpected morning drizzle. City life gets thrown off balance when the city center gets a mild shower at 7 in the morning. Some kind of crazy panic grabs people which

prompts them to act weird. The traffic gets worse as everybody try to squeeze through or zoom past to 'safety' before the next cloud burst.

All this is not result of some flash floods or water clogging. The drizzle wasn't even strong enough to clean all that bird shit off poor Gandhi's face. Even a cloudy sky seem to provoke this behavior these days; one of those rare occasions that gets the crowd to work together towards a common goal.

Probably all the order and stability that we see around are just failed attempts at creating chaos! All the confusion and panic is perhaps a natural progression to a more logical conclusion beyond systems in equilibrium.

Another Onam !

You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead.. The Beatles

Onam had a very special place in life as a kid. Those ten days of freedom from school and studies were much anticipated. There were too many attractions - the swing, the early morning rush to pluck the flowers, the delicacies from all neighboring houses, the floral decorations and the general festive atmosphere. After the monsoon, every shrub and weed around the house had a bright colored flower at the end of every branch. I always wanted to keep that tradition alive, just to get a feel of the season and the excitement associated with it.

I was happy to get up today morning and go out searching for flowers with my sisters. It was drizzling, monsoon doesn't keep the schedule these days it seems. The Marsh Marigold patch was still there along the river. Apart from that there were very few flowers around the house. Lantana, one of the most abundant flowers during the season was not to be seen anywhere. The Morning Glory had just two flowers on it. Looks like most of the plants have deferred their flowering season to avoid their precious seeds being destroyed. Perhaps its evolution and natural selection in play, or perhaps I am reading too much into 'The Origin' these days.

The floral decoration is done, I am happy that we did not break the tradition. Its raining outside, nothing much to do than savor the delicacies... What a way to start a week!

The Men Who Stare at Goats

I should have gone ahead and sacrificed that goat the last time I had a bad experience during travel. Or when misfortune struck many times before that. But I just made fun of Hermes, boasted that there is no God of travel; that even if there is one he is busy picking on his opponents. I was terribly wrong in my assumptions and HE got back at me with vengeance. Looks like I have to put a leash on my blasphemous outbursts.

She looked almost like a female version of Jesus Christ...all the charm minus the mustache and the beard. I was on my way back home after visiting my cousin and she came and sat opposite to me in the bus. She had pink nail polish on, and was wearing a striped T-shirt. Though the horizontal stripes made her look a little chubby, I gave her a 9.5 on 10 in the looks department. As soon as she settled down, she had a gulp of water from the water bottle, stroked a strand of hair off her face and took out a book from her hand bag. I myself was reading 'Almost Like a Whale' and was eager to know what she got. But before I could figure out the title she opened the book and started reading. It is kind of an uncontrollable itch for me, till I find out what the other person is reading... just curiosity. So I kept looking up from my book every now and then, hoping to get a glimpse of the title.

Though I was very discreet in my attempts not to catch her attention, eventually she got wind of my glances. Two fiery eyes rose up from behind the book and directed a beam of deadly laser straight at my face. Then only I noticed that she was resting the book on her well endowed bosom, using it as a book-rest, and I've been constantly staring that way! I realized the blunder and looked apologetically at her. How can you explain a female-in-fury that you were looking at the titles and not at her vitals? I thought she might jump up from her seat and shout at the top of her voice. I had by then closed my eyes in anticipation of her Jesus fingers anointing my cheeks, but she was perhaps the forgiving kind! She shrugged her shoulders in contempt, stood up in a jiffy, and walked away to another empty seat towards the rear of the bus.

She was reading 'The Golden Gate' by Vikram Seth,... not 'The Men Who Stare at Goats'.