http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?blogId=43 If u ALLY the EVENT, ALL will fall into place. EVENTuALLY, that is. http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=7147&blogId=43 Thu, 11 Feb 2016 15:21:09 +0530 Gustav: What’s down? Meursault: (drooping) Well… – Pause – Gustav: Yeah? Meursault: I think I will not find answers to any questions. – Pause – Meursault: EVER! Gustav: Maybe there are none! Meursault: Is that why one can find any answer that fits? Gustav: Yes. – Pause – Gustav: Come over. Join me for a drink. (sound of the gentle fountain, and footsteps) Meursault: What happens when you put Sisyphus in a management classroom? Gustav: Sisyphus changes. Meursault: No! Only, the boulder becomes heavier. As a consequence, he must roll it up faster! (the clang of glasses) Cheers!!   http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=7109&blogId=43 Thu, 17 Dec 2015 19:02:36 +0530 Both of [X]’s wives turned out to be expensive to keep, having a predilection for clothes and jewellery. It became clear that [X] had joined al-Qaeda because he needed the money, so therefore the leverage would be offering to help him with his financial needs. At the next interview, [Y] had $10000 on his desk, which had been taken in a raid. He also forged a divorce petition that indicated to [X] that he could get rid of the more expensive of his wives. Suddenly, [X] started talking in detail about his work as a bomb-maker for al-Qaeda. As the interrogations continued, the interrogators found themselves getting ever closer to the prime object of the manhunt – [Z]. – Source: Manhunt / Alexander Stilwell Who is innocent? Who exploited whom? I wonder if we have definitive answers for these questions, although any uncertainty on such judgmental questions irks us. Our conditioning with duality compels us to judge in haste and finish with it. We don’t quite like dwelling. We put God and Devil at opposite poles; it’s easy. All ethical, moral and activist rhetoric adopts this slant. The fault is always with the other. But is it so simplistic? The other is a product of the system, the same system we are part of. Consequently, the responsibility befalls on each one of us. Greed is encouraged in consumerist systems, and it passes off as innocuous, and even desirable, trait. It appears harmless. When we sit and dig deeper, the stories the layers unravel might be appalling. The finger then turns about and points to oneself. God and Devil are never at the poles, for there are none. All we have is shades of grey. Innumerable shades of grey. And God and Devil are somewhere there, lurking, playing hide-and-seek.   http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=6954&blogId=43 Sat, 28 Feb 2015 00:25:18 +0530 In reality, you are pushed to live with illusion. You are never encouraged to ponder about, and understand, reality. Consequently, illusion becomes your only reality. Your education, media, and gossip are full of trite memes, sustained and strengthened by illusion. For it's only in illusion that the unreal can be sold: peace, equality, freedom and growth for all. Any by buying in, you contribute to the continuity of that illusion. http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=6941&blogId=43 Fri, 06 Feb 2015 10:49:02 +0530 I can't tell this day from the other; I can't tell the next week from this one, either. Months have passed in tens and I can't tell which one will remain etched into the farthest lanes of time, for each one has just been the same. I can't tell this year from the past few I had lived through. There was a time - and what a time was that! - when I could spot that one face among hundreds, even in the gloomiest of hours, and now I can't tell her face from another's. Have I lost the eye or is it the faces indeed? They sport the same deliberate smiles, that sly glint in their eyes and that haggard bearing that fain hides the beauty of ageing skin. Just as the nonchalant fingers, benumbed by habit, hold the fag but never feel its texture, I feel I have sleepwalked in time without ever confronting life. There's neither the joy of living nor the ache of dying; just a frozen indifference. Maria found it unusual that Jacob should ponder so deeply in her company. She ran her finger through his hair. He felt Maria's slender nail slide along his neck. Then he heard her: "I sleep with three or four men every night; I can't tell one fuck from another. You either get used to it or you look beyond. When you start getting used to, you have chosen to die." Briefly, Jacob looked at her face. "And what is it to look beyond? What is it to look beyond when this is all there is?" "I don't know! But on some morning when you open the window and look into the distance, you will feel you can still run, that you can still abandon everything and just run. You will not mind the stakes, you will not care if you must run barefoot, you will know how much you want to run and touch those spotless skies, crash in the sand and just breathe. And maybe then, when you die, you will at least die with grace!" http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=6911&blogId=43 Wed, 10 Dec 2014 09:52:43 +0530 You can reconcile with death, partly because it is choiceless. Just as the claws of an eagle that hold fast its prey, death holds you captive. Its clasp is firm and its strike, final. When the errand is done, it leaves behind nothing, just as the flight of the eagle does not, either. The inevitability of this fate at once justifies the seeming absurdity of life. In contrast, dying is tougher to reconcile with. Unlike death whose move is abrupt, the abject process of dying invites you into its hold and imposes its contours on your unwilling person. Its biggest triumph is in putting you against yourself. One part clings to the hope of surviving so you can return to the familiar; the other is strangled to give in. In this very ambivalence, dying and living merge as a continuum.  What you are familiar with, you realise, is not life but living. The only thing that needs to be understood, if you must understand life, is death.   http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=6889&blogId=43 Mon, 27 Oct 2014 00:21:21 +0530 The other day I saw a kid playing in a garden. His dad and mom were running around him. Later during a brief chat that moved lightly, they continuously had an eye on him. It appeared their thoughts were running around the kid; that the kid was the centre of their world. And it occurred to me that each of their parents, in turn, had their thoughts running around them. By extension, then, their parents', around them. That gave off in a visual representation. Each of us is at the centre of such a universe. Even as one is circling around a dot, or many of them, s/he too is at the centre of another circle, one or many. Some of these are concentric. They intersect with other circles too, making up an imitation of the universe. It leads to a few observations: 1. When I am expansive and loving, I extend and contribute to the circles; when I am hostile and narcissistic, I disrupt other circles and collapse. 2. At any point, dual states co-exist: that of the dot and the circle (particle and wave). 3. It's only the circles that intersect, expand and spread. The dots never meet. అందుకే వేటూరి గారు అన్నట్టు: "ఎవరికెవరు ఈ లోకంలో ఎవరికి ఎరుక..."  4. Further, ergo, the dot (self / I) is a myth, a delusion. http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=6839&blogId=43 Thu, 11 Sep 2014 11:54:53 +0530 Q: Sir, what is rebellion?   A: Poetry is rebellion. Forget meter, forget structure, forget grammar. It's for those who like to live in confinement, those who are too afraid to step out and bare their hearts. Be incomprehensible. Life is incomprehensible. Rebellion is incomprehensible.   Rebellion is not in taking to the streets in a crowd and yelling slogans about changing the world. Rebellion is not noise. Rebellion is to put yourself to the wall and confront your deepest fears, to strip and be vulnerable. Rebellion is silence.   - Camus  http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=6786&blogId=43 Tue, 17 Jun 2014 22:14:25 +0530 you want me, at all hours, to cringe to your drumbeat give in to a sagging spine be hushed and whooshed off when your convoy passes by lick your boots so neat when you trample and whack thank the blade hasn't slain be unabashedly loyal and proud of my servitude you, wily wolf, want me to slit my brother's flesh pay for your bread and meats and when my home burns to ashes pray you and curse my fate and how well do i do this - for the plaque, a fake, that reads 'good citizen' - verily like a wagging dog more screwed than a pavlovian! http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=6443&blogId=43 Tue, 13 Aug 2013 17:46:54 +0530 Bertrand Russell's reply to a magistrate's request that he pledge himself to "good behavior", after an anti-nuclear demonstration in London, for which Russell was arrested (in September 1961). "No, I won't."     http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=6405&blogId=43 Wed, 12 Jun 2013 10:50:32 +0530