# 15 to Tendulkar

                                                                                                                                   

How often does it happen that everything is in place, everything is perfect but there is this ear blasting whisper telling us something is missing. Thoughts dip in worry to tap it down what it was that wasn’t around. And then gradually we are able to decipher what it was that went offshore. The icing of enthusiasm stayed away from the picture to make it perfect.

Each article moving at its pace has the Midas touch ones it gets to feel the heart, hand and heed hit it off.

Most lives sum up in parody. Since the birth to the last sleep in the berth, imitation remains constant. There can be changes in between and those changes with full heartedness let us survive our names long after we reduce to meaty memories. It is not in our offsprings we have our rebirths. Our beingness, our representation, our special touch twirls in the memories of others. “Oh, had he/s been here, there would have been ripples all over!” - is our touch.

Liveliness is in the pocket of our heart. At times more than frequent it must be let out for a game.

The legend signed off from what he loved most. He lived his childhood all through his adult life and god willing and he willing shall continue forever. If he hadn’t tossed and turned long with eager enjoyment could he become what has become of him between those 22 yards?

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# 14 on being different

 It takes not too much to understand that each thing we do,think and see isn't much different from what the next one does. It is in putting together of the two and the other digit which makes it different. We are very much alike in all that goes into the making of our world and still we never hold the reign in terming it unique.

Our wired belief in the world to be such and such sets a trap. Picking each straw and putting it the way we want to makes us drift apart from the prefixed queue. We are alone, but together in that. We are different but similar in kind.  

It has always been so.

Since the time we became two legged beast burdened with understanding. And then the quest of being different began to build its ground nest inside of us, brick by brick. We lose, win, set up for a draw..we walk,talk and race against all that tries to scream at us, “you are alike”. Our over the top amour propre resist all the knockings at the door of sensible hearings. We are the monsters with the I know it all  tag screaming aloud: “I stand -out”.

Indeed we do. From our respective pedestal we do, see and act according to the horizon visible to us.

Watching the sun set from a different side makes us different, and the sun sets smiling upon us…

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# 13 duality

There is too much of traffic in my CPU as I write now. A never ending flow of thought octopuses me. That perhaps is the only thing that’s on an endless job while everything else goes on a break.

There is burst of crackers outside, inside there is this detonation of thought. With warrant or without, thoughts beat each other to sound louder than the other.

Tongue out, long, curly open-hair, exotic goddess having her best time dancing in my mind. I remember those times when I resisted going out during Diwalis or the festival of Kali Puja( for Bengalis). There was this uncanny, unexplained fear about her gaze.The house gets its décor, it gets illumined but her Durbar still remains absent of the devotee in me. They say she is a mother like any other, both procreator and destroyer, beholding beauty and disaster, love and fear.

Does this then mean she evinces the dual faces of human life?!

She probably is us and we, she. She stands majestic uncovering the inside and we masquerade ourselves in the sheets of plastic.

Sometimes the dark knight in us roars aloud only to make us bite our tongue ( with our late realization!). We fall and we rise with each of it. And… what is life without any fall! (Newton had a universal law!)

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