Category: Notes

Do any of you feel like screaming,
at a random place, better if it’s an open area, just shout the life out of you, empty your lungs through your vocal chord and test its limit? But you don’t want anyone to notice you. Everybody just go about their business like it was nothing notable. In a little while, just when you’re about to turn around, at a distance, you hear someone screaming the living shit out of them, just because you gave them the courage. And you feel content in that as you know you are not alone.

And the scream goes around the globe, like the echoes of the wolves on a full moon day.

Just another day. Another ordinary day where you rip off the yesterday out of your head and walk into today’s shoes. Where were you headed yesterday? Are you in the same path as you were when you left it? Did you had to start from the same point or the earth has moved it a tiny bit for you? How do you know where you left the way last night in the dark? When is where in this neverwhere? Do you have to start from the same time as well? Then does it make yesterday today? Or does it make today yesterday?? Or do we have to wait till tomorrow??? Are you still walking the walk? Could you trace back the way? Not in your memories, in real? Walk back few steps before you took a turn and then would you take the same turn? Or out of curiosity, would you take the other? What mind numbing possibilities could all the turns could have lead us into? It’s not a choice you see, taking that turn. May be it appears to be so, bit it ain’t. Choice is when you know what the other outcomes might be. And there’s are no two goats and a car to choose from. You open the door and walk through it. The other doors might even be walled out or a door way to another life. But you’ll never know. And it’s not a choice for you to make. Cause no one ever tells you that the doors are even there. You just walk through endless doors, turn at every turn, every step of the way. There’s nothing more to that. It doesn’t add up to shit. Every turn you meet someone new, you shake hands and part. May be someone you know, if you’re lucky. But you part ways. And step ahead on that wire. The door. The path. It’s not a choice, it’s just your absurd life.

What is that you seek, is beyond reach. And the why is that you seek, is within you. A bridge between these two is the how is that you seek and that makes all the difference.

Writing slowly faded away from the stage. The flashing neons burned the synapses that lit the words into visions. Words were now a reminiscent of a lost era. A monochromatic melody that plays only for the auteuristic pleasure. Less was appreciated more than more as they might overheat the overclocked brain. The span has to be minimal to gain attention. The letters were merely tapped. No shapes to them anymore. They are just a string that only serves the purpose. And then dies. A blink was enough to lose track of a molding metaphor. The meanings were lost in the makeup and the madness were lost in the performances. They were mere voices. Echoing in the empty wells. The ink, has it dried? The strokes were made now only for signatures, the abomination of alphabets. Other times to answer the unlearnt questions that you vehemently hate. No, now they are just blobbed. Even love doesn’t need the ethereal scripture that could be burnt. They were all now stored forever in the clouds along with the nudes. Even the blackboards turned white to screen the images that sliced into the matters. Everything were made easy. And all the curves became corners. But people kept jutting into each other more than often. The horizons slowly disappeared. And then the earth became flat.

Be a teacher. Handle the chaos of the classroom and bring order to the world for a moment. Learn the beauty in chaos as well. Inspire the living and instill will upon the weak. Enjoy the toll it takes on your personal life. Be a shadow behind the screen at least in a single soul. Do not invoke fear. Evoke freethoughts. Stand by the example you are worshipped for. Don’t shun curiosity. Put the cat in Schrödinger’s box. Let it decide what to do with the poison.

A car just went past me on the road at 19:36 on the 12th September of 2016. By habit I read its number 09 3399. By habit I nulled out the nines and added the 3s to 6. 6 would what define the car at that moment, in an aspect unknown to the binding universe. No it’s not numerology. No it’s not science either. It’s just the number of the particular brand of car, and model that went past me that moment in my life, when I was lost in my thoughts of which I had no memory of anymore. Burnt and dusted to the wind as the car went past me. Why a number? And why not the whole length but the sum? Well number is simple to remember and the smallest digit it is, the easier it is to put in the slot on the roulette. No, it doesn’t make sense. Even to me. I just know to add numbers and that’s what I do when I find them. And I don’t know the complicated addition. I can do just two single digits at a time. But I can do them without error and effectively countless times. Integrating the indifferentiable parts. But what use do numbers have? How does a number even happen? It was all that we could count on in this ever so chaotic world, with our meddling fingers. From the same hand that throws the dice and deals the cards.
Being a withdrawn kid with anger issues, the games I mostly play were the ones that used dice and cards. Mostly with my mother, as the occasions of having the family and friends over were restricted to summer. And not all them summers. You may think rolling a dice is based on pure chance. Shuffle as hard as you can and throw them as far as possible, it’s going to turn up only one way. One of the faces of the probable outcomes. But is it a predetermined outcome or does it turns itself to a random number generated by the exact moment the atomic clock counts. I mean you go to that moment in time countless times and you throw the exact number. Who could ever confirm? You could always count the chances but how would you calculate the occurrence? And how come my mom won most of the time we played with the dice, may it be Paramapatham or Dhaayam. If it were pure chance, shouldn’t I have won at least half of them. How did she always choose the right time to throw the dice? I tried to learn her trick. Observing all the throws and noting all the time and all the ways the dice are thrown. Counting the chances and occurrences concurrently for every game we played there on. But what if it could be applied to life? Who doesn’t want a win? But what if the rules were different? It wasn’t too late to look into. I started counting things. The time, the date, the day, the week, the month, the year, the steps it took for me to reach that point, the number of people around, the types of things they are doing, the different ways they are doing it, etc. I started to observe. But my conscious mind was already too occupied with the randomness; I left it for the subconscious to count and formulate the theory of numbers, the total sum of life.
So I applied what I learnt. The only way to confirm the theory was by trial and error. Trial was the easier part. But the errors would just fuck up your life. It did. But it was all part of the study, a sacrifice of a lab rat for the betterment of humanity. So I took my chances. I chose the right moment to roll the dice, as decided by my subconscious. Impulsively I led my life. But it was not like I was playing all my hands. You need to know when to fold. Withdraw the ones that don’t interest you so you don’t have to cling to the slithering snake and slide down in your game. But it may happen, more often than you expect, and it was all a lesson. And ain’t them hard? How much skillful a player can be, the outcome is still not formulated. It is still a game of chance, but how you handle it is knowing what to throw, which card you need to pick, which book you should buy, the bus you climb, the flowers you pick, the letters you write, the stones you throw, the turns you make, the hearts you choose, and etc. Sometimes you can choose randomly, the clothes you want to wear but not the shoes you want to step in. But this game’s purpose is not to ace. It’s not about winning. It’s all about learning the game; to find the sum of life. But it would take me my life time. And the answer, I’m taking it to the grave.

“He deals the cards to find the answer
The sacred geometry of chance
The hidden laws of a probable outcome
The numbers lead a dance”