Facades

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When I was introduced to Mr.Russell Edson ,I had a feeling we would click and the chemistry between us would flow .For once my intuition was beyond the right of all my wrongs.Russell Edson with his book the Tunnel has not only added more meaning  to my slot of random philosophies than all the philosophers combined  .There has never been any poetry which has made me laugh and say “that’s just too much truth “. He has a way of saying things , a gift of being inane ,absurd and trippy , but what makes him stand out against that stark background of all those people who have published books is that , he makes you think even with the beautiful facade of non sense. To me he is Lewis Carol and Salvador Dali in a single package with the benefits of being high on weed.

As a writer we often have the need to make sense , to set things right in the world , but what if you could not set things in place ? what if all the writing in this world was utter non sense after some “non sense ” made complete sense? I guess there comes a time ,when reading becomes too tedious because you are trying to look at the world through the lenses of our own facades.Maybe if we strip them down to bare minimum, without being a cynic or a realist or an idealist or any other categorization, maybe we would understand the simplicity of minds ,words and their meaning.

I shall leave you with an except from the Tunnel ,to which I connect to on so many levels I cannot even begin where .

The Fall Russel Edson
There was a man who found two leaves and came indoors holding
them out saying to his parents that he was a tree.
To which they said then go into the yard and do not grow in the livingroom
as your roots may ruin the carpet.
He said I was fooling I am not a tree and he dropped his leaves.
But his parents said look it is fall.

WORD

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I never understood or underestimated them until yesterday when I had a conversation with the known stranger.When you think words are overrated in silence, they act as the tiny window to a giant fortress .You don’t have to rely on them for filling in gaps of silence but let them be a reason for a conversation in silence .To me they are sometimes a superfluous cover to a shallow depths ,and sometimes the undercurrents itself .But in the end  words are perhaps  almost a poetic responsibility ,that I can never imagine kicking away .True or not , the words cage me , but I guess I’m a weird happy prisoner.

For a Friendship that doesn’t exist.

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When I woke up today , I woke up with a smile.This wasn’t because of the fresh coffee brewing for a change.I smiled ,just because you were there in my head ,waiting at the station ,and that’s that.I wouldn’t know a loss even if it was staring at me right in my face.But today I remember you as that friend who would have hypothetically made me smile somewhere in the distant future.I also remember you just because I do.

Its been too long since we have made up our minds to see each other in the same light .Our time and space co-ordinates might never coincide with that of place and occasion.Perhaps it doesn’t even matter .Our  friendship is a one  that doesn’t exist in reality .It is much more than that.It is that one fragment of thought that would make me say , I miss you , with that first cup of coffee of the day.

I am a thief .

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I am a Thief and there is nothing more to say to it.

I steal trust never to return it back.

I covet that young love that you have ,

but what I need the most is something that you will never give ,

And thus I steal.

 

I need that sound sleep of pure innocence ,

That I bartered for baubles long ago.

In my world  I was born for this reason  ,

And thus left alone.

 

There is no guilt inside me ,

No shame either .

I would lie to you without any hither .

I wouldn’t hesitate twice if I had to steal your soul ,

Because in your world ,

You would trade it all for a shiny diamond or a fake coal.

 

When I would steal ,

I steal with honesty and conviction.

In my world there is a need for a clean heart,

For I promised someone long ago ,

That I would collect at least one before heading to the gates of gore.

 

Alas, all your souls are as tattered as mine.

For you have also traded your clean heart for a reason.

Sadly when in a different positions ,

When your crisp bills are exchanged at my gates ,

They couldn’t even afford half the measure of self-respect such as mine  ,

For they are tainted with much more than just treason .

Sighing with the Sweeper.

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This is here ,because there IS,

With the swish of a broom,

Resonating the thoughts of the doom,

About the bills to pay ,

About the dance to sway to.

 

The lunch that is packed ,

Feels insipid and crass,

To rest while his hands are in motion,

To bray while the horns make a commotion.

 

He plasters a smile along with the swish of his broom,

He sits because his footsteps are tied to the loom.

He makes a pretty picture ,

Sitting astray.

Thinking about the love ,who is perpetually  in disarray.

 

He moons in the daylight,

With the songs of serenade brushing past his mind,

He loathes and yet he prays,

For that one day he wont be swishing his broom away.Image

The truth of Darkness

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I just finished watching Night and Fog ,and even though my laptop screen is blank , I am unable to move. The coffee I made earlier is still untouched .In the last 30 minutes of this movie watching I have questioned everything that is REAL for me.So far that it’s the only movie which ever provoked me in the thought process that I haven’t even considered before.The realization that the “pain,anger and frustration ” that I have defined for myself seems intrepid and almost too shallow.

I know that the time of the war is always in juxtaposition with a different dynamics. But to want to see one’s threshold of this facet was something I never knew about me.Our experiments with life are too limited given the way of our lifestyle.The idea of life and death for us is too loosely portrayed. I have never witnessed something so profound or life altering.

It’s strange that we should have the easy way out and not understand the basics of our existence, unless we undergo a series of tests that are more than just about our endurance of pain.The movie has this peculiar feature, it has this matter of fact way at which death is treated.It relays a set of facts without any empathy but these statements don’t sound cold either . But if that kind of coldness and indifference present during the war times  is ingrained in our DNA then I think we are all in this world for a  very long haul.Honestly the movies has too many scenarios that make you cringe or even cry ,but  shying away from the images that the movie prints in your head is easy .I tried facing these images with a steel mind , saying to myself that I’m not the one going through this pain, it’s just the images .Although if truth were to be told (steel mind or not),sometimes facing them head on becomes so overwhelming , that you  have to write to tell it to someone ! I do not know if you even have the idea of the movie ,but it’s so terrible and beautiful at the same time.It actually makes you look into things and not just  see.

I wonder  how would we  see the “self” objectively when we destroy everything about ourselves just so that we can live?

The In-Between of the Glass

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“What does it mean to reflect upon a position, a relation, a place related
to other places but with no place of its own: the position of the in-between? The in-between is a strange space, not unlike the
choric space that Plato, in the Timaeus, posed as the condition of
all material existence.”Elizabeth Groz,Architecture from outside

The position of the in-between lacks a fundamental identity, lacks a form, a given-ness, a nature. Yet it is that which facilitates, allows into being, all identities, all matter, all substance.In the big bad and grand  circus of life ,this in between-ness is what keeps us dreary and yet uncharacteristically happy too.This transitions of life and changing of constant lenses from the outside to the inside .

The introspective ,retrospective  and the perceptive thought processes that happen in ones head(at-least in mine )  are the wanderings in between the shadows of incomprehensible ideas.Ideas that remain stagnated in your head because of of fear.Such is the parody of life where we look into the narrow vanishing abyss,enriching ourselves with a warm fuzzy feelings of hope.

Usually when you are in this no zone area ,LIFE seems unreadable .The denial or the acceptance becomes too tedious to think about .Its a trance that most wouldn’t want to ever get out of .I for once, know that being in a constant INSIDE or OUTSIDE of a clique ,a society,relationship , or even oneself  is an overwhelming experience that one might not be able to ever comprehend .Being vague is easy (profoundly interesting too!) but its the essential clarity that is needed for us which  is often too vague.Hence the futility of life runs itself in loops that are too simple to understand and too knotted up to execute.