“Gee, you bungled it up again”, Vishwa gleefully chided at his mate Ranjan. Jerked, Ranjan raised his eyebrows quizzingly at Vishwa who then explained what the goof-up was all about. With his brilliance Ranjan was swift in his wits however lackadaisical of his work. “Oh, my Goodness, Indra left on his sedan and his pilot Maharaj readying the four seater charter-jet”.
More than a comical theatre, confusing and high decibel retail markets or the happy reverberations of children returning from the schools and play-grounds or worst of a hostile war site, a work site seldom is full of unbridled emotions flowing side by side, with a compartmental partitions erected diagonally or a straight line perhaps to ‘see-through’ of your emotional flow.
Their emotions, venom-spewing-eyes, exchange of dialects and incomprehensible mumblings are dormant and streamlined, “Is that so?”, “Oh, I thought differently”, “OK, I will now ensure this in line with your expectation”.
Is there a connection between a man’s joyous mood and his ideas?
The good ideas bearing on welfare of your fellow beings effect indelibly, but very brief, your mood swings which reverberate then and after some time as repeat reminder, ‘Oh, it was fun to participate in the local seminar’, ‘The host was was the best of literate and social persona’ spraying a tinge of awe and jealousy among the audience.
‘Oh Yes, I met a few of my old mates from our early residential complex flocking together to our school, college and to other activities arena. And, a few of my other mates who took wings to soar over the waters and the land barriers’ showed up to exclaim, ‘honestly, I did not recognise you at the first instance’. ‘Tell us on developments about you, your family and profession’.
‘I exchanged my welfare views and queried about their living style and schedules’. Probably, our talk was palaver lacking content and I, as the participant well connected, knew something about Dopamine, Oxytocin, Serotonin and Endorphines – DOSE to carry them all with me.
At the end of the seminar and social gatherings, my mind shook me to search and find out ‘I still hold sway here’, I have all luxuries’, I live content’ and other scores of flashes with ‘I’ on top of all that 1.3 kg or 3 lbs. of my brain. The mind started ploughing deeply inside its greyish track to level the lopsided think tank perching superficially atop. No way out, I probed further to end in a realistic fiasco ‘where all that ‘I’ emerged from”.
Untiringly I took to the task on my return and dozed off, thank goodness, my chauffeur brought me and my SUV safe to home. Did you notice, how so much I valued my SUV more than my life? Sometimes misplaced priorities took toll of our principles? And, an irreversible direction in our life!
Most male children forgetful of their fathers’ sacrificial role on their upbringing andmoulding, expect their sons to heed to them and demand respect from their sons! Sons, representatives of the newer generation worn out of cultural roots and family values and yet, usurped with all round technology are classic examples of wayward living!
Of course, exceptions prevail everywhere!
In the midst of deep sleep, I woke up to glance some shady figures moving about and I was unsure if I was hallucinating. Yet, it was a big toss for me from my insobriety and then I realised how and where all that ‘I’ evaporated. There was an unobtrusive puff of smoke ‘We’ standing derisively at my awkward bulge of ego. Sometimes, it generates a hilarious flow that would fizzle the whole economic bothers, water disputes, political and national hostilities and the other ballooning of trivialities blocking our sight and sense to float for the safe and stable shore.
His mind was still running like a horse drugged to gallop on all four sides of the globe, no aim at all. Sometimes it takes a dig at the heavenly blinking stars and sometimes laying on the sands bed in the sea shore and meandering wishfully ‘what if I were so!’ or ‘why didn’t I see this happen in this way’. All of his thoughts did not get adequate expressive reasons, yet their flow was uncontrolled and non-directional.
Ranjan hurrying from the portico to stop the chauffeur carried himself with Nature’s gentle and soothing breeze. He was glad to be drawn by the flow of sweet musical tongue. He forgot his mission and rushed to locate the direction of musical flow.
Geeta, befitting her name to enrich a classic singer trained intensively in the basic compositions, picturised her talent in her soulful rendition. Still unmindful of fugacious diversions and their recurrence, She was lost in her performance. Her musical breeze like a magnet attracted her audience of squirrels, rabbits, swans chirping and echoing matching sounds and dancing to her musical notes. A few mules and with that noble class, disturbed out of its braying freedom, one or two donkeys their ears upright and heads swinging sideways stood as spectators, more than the ever sensible patrons.
What was more pleasant was not the heartiest content she derived at the end of the session but was the spectacular and unison nod of the quadrupeds sans their raga background in recognition of their maestro.
In that melee, we had one or two musical professional artists jubilantly witnessing the event and unconsciously participating, suddenly dejected to note that unique renditions of melodious tunes, enchanting ragas and compositions in their intonations never ever met with ovation or such sounding approval as from their elite audience and learned musical lovers. They had gleeful satisfaction that their performances were a shade less than her intent performances. As natural human beings deprived of their recognition, they attempted to distort her soft and sweet expression and drive away the motley crowd to gain a sadistic pleasure.
Now rattled was the tut-tut-tut noise of the jet charter closing from its elevation gradually to its helipad.
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