The lizard on the lamp post

Imaginch felt miserable as his sleep pattern had started edging towards the border of insomnia. Not long ago, he had been happily going about this one activity like a Swiss watch – afternoons in day dreaming while asleep and at nights sound asleep with an accompaniment of snoring instruments. He became upset as he could not find out the reason for this act of treason. The simple inability to fall asleep, at appointed times and for scheduled duration, had other invisible effects which he alone could notice.

Not having anything to do at these ‘trying’ times, he focused his attention on the invisible effects it has brought on him. A parade of emotions goose stepped with a regularity mocking the pendulum of any antique clock or an automatic mechanical watch showing moments in action. Even at the sleepless state, he did not fail to appreciate the suitability of a grandfather clock or the wrist watch to be cited as an example, than the digital versions. At times a border skirmish between memorable thoughts and thoughts that are best forgotten but are getting recycled, took place without any prompting. 

In the meanwhile he tried out a host of home remedies, including reading of books which he did not want to read anyways. All of them failed to yield the desired result echoing the veto pattern followed by the permanent members in UN.

These counter measures unwittingly helped in increasing his awareness about what really was happening in the thinking part of his body. Imaginch let out a derisive laugh at this action. So far none accepted that he had this faculty or were unwilling to concede that he might at least be aware of its existence! This thought about their dilemma was one of the many that he wanted to erase from his memory.

On one such failed falling-asleep sessions, he accidentally stumbled up on the discovery that during all these turmoil, the left hemisphere of his brain was becoming warmer. He could actually identify the location from which the muscular tectonic plates were moving and causing the upheavals. For a man swimming in the sea of sleeplessness, it appeared to be a life line. He started to keenly observe this activity with closed eyes.

The purpose of closed eyes was to let others think that he has already fallen asleep and to avail the opportunity to calmly grasp that life line and eventually fall asleep.  Not to allow him any such scope, a confusing signal started coming out. The right hemisphere also joined the chorus with loud music and meaningless verse. He was afraid that at one point of time all his thoughts might leak through the head like the famous wiki account.

 Many days after turning over in his bed, he peered through a window which was facing the street. In the wee hours of the night, the leaves and branches of the tree have decided to take some rest as no wind was around to disturb them. His gaze slightly shifted away from the foliage and settled on a spot near the sodium vapour lamp on a lamp post. At first this was not an inspiring sight but a sudden darting movement caught and held his eyes.

On the underside of the protective cover for the bulb, a lizard was busy hunting for insects. The lizard’s stealthy moves to launch a sudden attack on the ignorant insect fascinated him. He continued to watch this act of the lizard from different sectors of the battleground, damn sure of the vacuum pads on its legs that would prevent it from falling to the ground. For a few more days, he continued to watch this uneven battle hoping against hope that at least once an insect would escape from the snaring tongue of the lizard.

Indulging in a rare and figurative thinking, he understood in a flash that when the lamp is switched off, the insects go away. With no insect to hunt, the lizard moves on to another place to wait and trap the unwary. All these happenings fail to impress the lamp post in anyway. After this time, he stopped watching the battle of the lizard with the insects as it has already given him an insight on his predicament.

Coffee to dinner, shopping to sleeping minor irritants experienced left his mind on boil. Events around him in which he had no interest stuck in his mind like limpets on the keel of a ship. He felt going insane like the clothes in a washing machine – twisted and in knots. He decided to switch off the lamp.

Amplifying his thoughts, he reasoned that imagination tries to paint a mental image with pigments of anger, disappointment, enmity, frustration or a host of other elements to frame ‘the identity crisis ’. Allowing the emotions to stay in their true colour – black & white or grey may not look beautiful but would be true to the subjects. He knew the insects would fly away.

Mega doses of illogical exhortations on the efficacy of gurus offering instant salvation making him to wonder “what life is all about? Is there no place for being confident of solving issues by logical actions?”  He dismissed the lizard from the mind and assumed the role of the lamp post.

In the end it became clear to him that some may start at the origin and try to travel the length of a holy river and others might start at the tail end and travel upwards to the birth place of the river. He hoped this clarity of purpose would lead him to be at peace with his thoughts and eventually might allow him to resume his normal sleep pattern!

Taming the time-Rest the clock

He was reclining in his ‘lounge’ chair. It had depth & ample cushioning to comfortably sit, work and even enjoy a catnap.  He took great pride in getting it custom made – with swivel arms, reading lamps and all. He never allowed any one to trespass and the only exception being the Madame of the house or otherwise she would occupy the chair anyway!

This reticent behaviour earned him the sobriquet “idiosyncrasy of intelligentsia” from the clan and friends.  Criticism apart, this label allowed him to rule over the kingdom with none daring to intrude for fear of steaming verbal attacks. The chair was not simply ‘the furniture’ for him but a portal from which he cast the net to catch and stay in touch with the clan, a few friends and their families also.

He had burnt his tongue many times over by speaking aloud and now had found a novel method – PPP.  His friends were the channels through which he funneled his thoughts. Agreement or disagreement with them happens in silence after the reader gets time to deliberate the issue before responding. His reverie stopped at this point as it reminded him of pending issues with his friends.  He disliked getting “silence” as an answer and liked the surgical approach – ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’. Muser became annoyed with Bystander and Tom on account of their indecision, one way or the other.

As this low pressure was building up in a distant city, Bystander and Tom experienced a dilemma – how to explain to Muser that their respective preoccupations prevented them from completing the assignments given to them? They concluded, after a detailed tower talk, that any explanation they might come up with would only portray them as friends who took things casually.

They were aware that Muser would cross examine them like a criminal lawyer, if even an iota of doubt enters his mind. Muser had become too personal in finding fault with them - his characteristic one track mind always managed to place itself first over the rest. When frustrated, he never liked to hear excuses. They decided to act in the hope of defusing the tension that had started to build up in their own respective minds when this dilemma threatened to become a deep dilemma.

Scared of the boredom of spending the week long holidays in listless activities, Tom offered to visit Bystander. This decision of Tom and the idea to clear the backlog of pending papers sounded like music in the ears of Bystander.

Immediately after Tom’s arrival, they started to work on the stack of pending topics. Each hard copy was read and marked in pencil. The reason: Muser did not like the flow of language to change style; corrected them himself after going through the penciled notes. Suggested modifications were written in a plain sheet, topic wise, with line numbers indicating change. Because of the cumbersome rules in play, the reading was slow and in some places, a passage had to be revisited after reading a portion in some other place of the text.

Many of the author’s thoughts appeared familiar by now but their lurking confusion made the revision as new as the first reading. They silently appealed to the master of confusion to be little more attentive while writing – in many places the thoughts are found straying like a sleep walker.

Like the returning officers on poll duty, they checked, verified and rechecked what they had verified. By nightfall they had come to a point from where they hoped to start the real work of making notes for Muser’s attention. They never realised that reading a draft would be so demanding. But it presented them an opportunity to pause and bash at Muser, of course in absentia and silence!

This was an engaging exercise and they felt like examiners correcting answer sheets fearing a retotalling request! At an opportune moment they wanted to tell Muser to drop some of his obsessions or get slowed down. Mercifully, a steady stream of snacks and refreshments kept them going.

It was Bystander who first drew Tom’s attention to some of the stand-out passages he had just read: 
The life: A foot ball is helpless and even after smashed around still comes to the play ground. There is a lesson in this: let life play foot ball with you but show the resilience of the ball.

Mind over matter: The cricket ball gets punched, cut and crash-landed beyond the boundary. The player accumulates runs and the ball looses shape and sheen. Out of form and pale, the ball gets to play a few more times but the player becomes a spectator. The important thing to understand is the ball cannot reverse its state, but the willing mind can.

As the words flow: The author should not breakdown and cry on account of a fictional character suffering the trauma of an extreme emotional stress. Wisdom or enlightenment without this practical utility is like speech without sound.

Tom fell silent for few minutes after reading the marked passages and in turn showed Bystander some of the same kind, from his reading list:

The thought: Thinking and thoughts go hand in hand. Thoughts are either “living” or “martyred”. “Living” thoughts surface in conversations and speeches from a podium. They have the freedom to come out, not necessarily in a logical order as the presenter manages to put them in perspective by referring to them back and forth.

“Martyred” thoughts are those that get written down to be read in the absence of the presenter. If they are not in logical order, the reader gets lost in his or her own thoughts – lack of clarity confusing the thoughts.

Myriad Thoughts:  Thinking aloud is a transparent thought. Talking to oneself is a confused thought. Thinking within oneself is an opaque thought. Organic thought is non-polluting where as an inorganic thought pollutes. Chaotic thinking is extempore and harmonious thinking is a manufactured thought.

They fell in to a sea of dilemma – whether to declare that they understood what is meant or decide that these passages are to be taken out of the texts. When they have not understood, they cannot exorcise it. Defeat and despair awaited them with each stand-out passage. If anyone wanted to experience the real feeling of a ‘candidate’ breathing down the neck of an ‘evaluator’, they were ready with the invitation – such was their exasperated state.

But they were clear about one thing: Muser must have stretched his imagination to its elastic limit while writing and in estimating the time required to read one of his drafts. Probably he did not understand or chose to ignore the mental convulsions that are to be undergone to grasp the essence and then work on the editing process. They decided to pose questions on all these sour-thumb sentences at a later date. Yet they could not refrain from admiring the titles chosen by Muser. At the end of the exercise, the friends felt like having come out of a boxing ring – battered and bruised. They resented Muser for drawing up the time table but conceded failure in making it for themselves.

In the meanwhile Muser had discretely found out, by employing a cloak and dagger method, his friends had finally started working on his long pending request. Feeling bad to have goaded them like this, he wanted to surprise them in person!  He had no difficulty to guess where both of them would be – in Bystander’s house.

He cautioned her to remain silent as Mrs. Bystander opened the doors to admit him in to the house. Straightaway Muser went to the study room on tip-toes. As expected he saw his friends at work like students preparing for an entrance exam. The table cluttered with print outs, pencils, tray with coffee mugs told him the story of a marathon session in progress. Compassion and admiration washed over in his mind, “If this is not friendship then what else it could be?”

The force of this thought must have alerted the friends to turn around and break in to a surprised smile. In that one instant the countless hours spent over Muser’s drafts seemed like a dream, a fascinating dream. A look at the clock told them that have been working for the several hours, non-stop! The tired eyes, knowing that a dear friend has come, did not mind staying energetic for a few more hours. Such was the confluence of thoughts among the three; the synergy communicating in place of spoken words.

Explaining, as if to clear their incomprehension regarding certain passages, Muser said,” The foot ball alludes to the determination we should show, the cricket ball assures us that there are opportunities out there - till we call it a day. The writer can show emotion after finishing the work and not before. This is a self addressed message! Martyred thoughts are those that need to be dressed up for presentation; classification of thoughts is a reflection of our own state of mind during all these sniping and skirmishing is a collective exhortation not to give up”.

The friends heaved a sigh of relief on having gotten through the work and escaping the post script – Muser’s sermon! Mrs. Bystander watched in silence and wondered – “Oh! What a bunch of nitpicking friends and when they will start doing something serious?”  She was sure there will be a heavy demand on the items she had painstakingly prepared for dinner.

Yamadharmaj reforms

Yamadharmaraj was very much aware that in his business there are no excuses for inaction. He rounded up few ghosts with exceptional computing expertise and set to work on them. For the sake of company he included his deputy in the discussions, as he did not want to leave loose ends. Yama had another hidden agenda - to take over the data base inscribed in the ledger held by Chitragupta.

The first technical glitch pointed out by the ghosts was how to spread the App to the earthlings without the help of a platform of an App stores.
Yama asked them, “Is it not possible to find ways to avoid all these diverse routing? Do not forget, the objective is to establish direct contact with users”.

The ghosts went in to huddle and held a deep discussion, throwing out technical jargons. Though Yama and Chitragupta were mercifully spared the pain of mind crunching, the avalanche of ‘bytes’ left them little disoriented. Coming out of the huddle the ghosts explained it was possible to create a ‘worm’ that can carry a zip-unzip strain and infest the App stores with the App to be developed by them. This would be a ghost program and the host computers cannot detect it and activate defensive measures.

Yama asked with impatience, “Then what was the problem you were referring to?” The tone really frightened the ghosts – experts or not they have never been scared to death earlier, like this. A ghost who was frightened the least replied, “The infestation can happen only when a Smartphone loaded with our App is used to browses internet, on earth. That is the catch! And after that it transmits to other cell phones by itself, whenever calls are made.”
The second difficulty brought in to the open was “in what medium the App has to be written?”

On hearing this, Yama became furious and roared at the ghosts, “If this is the state of your intelligence then why were you called in as experts? No matter what, you all will sit together, discuss, devise and deliver or suffer in the extreme”.

At this point, Chitragupta came alive with an imaginative solution. Hesitantly he asked, “If I bring you face to face with an earthling, can anyone of you then break in to his Smartphone and write the ‘worm’ and App, while I keep him engaged?”

The simplicity of the solution stunned every one of them, especially Yama inducing in him an uncertainty  complex that Chitragupta might try and usurp his throne one day or other in the future. He instantly doubled his vigilance against Chitragupta and wowed to thwart any evil design. He did not forget to make a mental note that once the task on hand is finished, the matter of Chitragupta must be dealt with.
 
The third severe strain was expected in uploading data from the ledger of Chitragupta to a huge data base in an understandable format for the computer.

Chitragupta, who was lolling comfortably, suddenly came alive and in utter confusion blurted out, “when I am there why worry about the magnitude of the task. I will certainly help in finishing it quickly. He added, “When I am at it I would like to finish it in style!” Yama felt that the last punch line of Chitragupta was unwarranted and self serving – when there was no option but to comply with.

Anyhow, Chitragupta was unwittingly taking those extra steps towards reformation and only that mattered to Yama. After the roll out, he decided to set aside sufficient time to deal with Chitragupta who was slowly becoming an enigma – sometimes very naive and at times brilliant like an exploding supernova.

Proud of his innovative initiatives and unmindful of becoming redundant in the scheme of things in Yamlok, Chitragupta sat gazing at the performing ghosts, vaguely recollecting the accident in which a score of artisans lost their lives.

Bytes aNd bites

Bystander was pleasantly surprised to come face to face with a friend, when he went to answer the door bell. The friend was equally surprised to see Bystander himself opening the door as it was well known in the friends’ circle that unless forced to do, Bystander avoids answering the door bell. As soon as he noticed the apron slung over the shoulders, the reason became clear – Mrs Bystander was not at home. This message sank home when Bystander pushed a vegetable laden tray towards him and an apprehension set in about the culinary skills of Bystander who liked to exhibit his unusual talent in choosing incompatible ingredients and end up with a mess. The unfortunate victim had only one choice - “to partake and endure”

While peeling and slicing the onions, the friend could not stop wondering the deft ruse Bystander had used to avail his help in the kitchen. Before he could finish with the surgery on the onions, he noticed beans and carrots waiting in queue. To remain unperturbed, he asked Bystander a sarcastic question in such a voice without implying so, “What made you to write, have you stopped writing like earlier days or are you in the process of writing something big - like a novel for instance?
 
This compressed question was like an opportunity to imagine a long train passing by, laden with his thoughts about answering it. Bystander really enjoyed watching the speeding trains.

“This question takes me back to the days before the retirement. Most people would have looked forward to bask in the atmosphere of farewell parties, held at two or three levels. Somehow this struck me as a put up act and this I would personally vouch for. In decades of service I had attended some of them. To be different and at the same time to bid adieu in style, I declined that formality, which was an option anyways, in spite of feelers from colleagues and seniors. Yet I agreed for the limited edition proposed by the group that had close worked with me for many years. I deemed it as a form of debt of honour. 

“A compromise solution was suggested by a respected senior to at least to leave a record of my foot prints in the history of a long journey spanning 3½ decades. This probably put me on the path of writing about some of the memorable incidents and moments. The senior would have surely regretted saying, “hey.. You need only a spark, try it!”

“For having agreed I spent nearly two months in drafting and for having suggested the idea the senior handled the onus of correcting the drafts. At one point of time, he might have thought of not to travel in the same conveyance vehicle with me. Months later, I began to regularly write on any event or news item that agitated or made me to think in a different perspective. Progressively I realised that writing is not a hobby to be taken lightly but demanded serious work. Having gotten in to the groove how can I stop writing? Does this answer the second part of the question?

“No! Novel means a lot.  A gripping plot set of characters, situations, locations and such things have to be thought out. In the developing stage more mental energy has to be spent in narrating the story through the characters, creating interesting twists & turns and simultaneously anchoring it all in suitable locations. Each character is to be conceived with balanced traits, technical background and personality in tune with the nature of the story expected at the end. This is my answer to the last part of your question”

To delay the lunch preparations as much as possible, the wafting aroma had a strange smell forewarning the taste buds the taste of things to come. Being a prisoner of friendship, he silently stared to scrap the skin off the carrots vigorously. To keep the conversation going, which was acting like anesthesia anyway, the friend decided to pose another serious question “how you felt on the last day at office?”

This question took Bystander totally by surprise as it was a good seven years ago and so far no one had asked him about that. Having got the chance Bystander did not want his reply to be just an ordinary recounting of feelings that went through the mind at that time. At the same time he did not want to embellish it too much to the point of being dismissed as fiction. He weighed each thought carefully and said, “The first feeling was one of being robbed out of a useful professional life. The second thought was on how to respond to the encomiums that are usually aired at the farewell party. The whole night was spent on rehearsing a moderated speech to avoid referring to thorny issues that all of us endured.

The daybreak on the day of retirement raised the curtain one more time giving a window of opportunity till sun set -when the official curtain will have to be lowered as per rules and regulations.  This interim period weighed heavily in my thoughts. Though I had walked through those tall doors for decades, this one day it was different – “I can only walk back and there would be no come backs”. This leave-taking squeezed the sap out of the heart.

 Friends and well wishing seniors hijacked the time till lunch, to lay platitudes, talk about  future avenues and bonhomie to carry home as memorabilia. I spent a little time in trying to come to terms with the reality that was waiting in a matter of few hours.  With no hunger pangs in the digestive tract, forced myself to take lunch merely to put up a show of nonchalance though it was for the sake of emptying the lunch box.  My colleagues and staff had arranged a get together giving a chance to all of them share experiences and tiffs they had with me and as expected I spoke to them on Vis a Vis basis.

The mental efforts - expended in tutoring myself to remain calm and not to get emotional- paid off when colleagues and staff members started extolling my dedication and capping it with a “what are we going to do from tomorrow onward”?  I felt like a patient being prepared for surgery, nevertheless those words helped me to walk out through the tall door but the sense of missing a whole life kept me company.

During the short drive to the administrative block, my eyes tried to take in as much of the familiar surroundings and to heighten my perception, the setting sun’s rays created a bit of surrealistic feeling. The rules and regulations governing superannuation was ready lower the curtain, waiting for the formalities to be completed.

The decades of active professional life was recalled, chapter by chapter- only the good portions, by seniors gathered in a conference hall to give a directorial touch. When such voices spoke complementing “the spirit, contribution and capabilities exhibited beyond the calling of the core field”, pride filled my heart. In this state of heightened Adrenalin flow induced courage was not far behind to convey  to them – I and my professional knowledge will always be available to them and am extremely saddened  to take leave on that day! It took me some time to realise that some other person would have already stepped in to the queue from which I had recently exited.

 Apron less Bystander and the clueless friend sat to enjoy the lunch.  It was completed in deathly silence in comparison to the spirited conversation that vibrated in the air, during its special preparation. The friend had no words to say and no tears to shed as this has already been extracted by the OniOns!

Chitragupta hoodwinked!

 Life in Yam Lok was becoming dull day by day, notwithstanding the hectic second by second activities. It was like an aircraft on “auto pilot” leaving the crew to look down on the cloud banks, heaps of mountains – some with snow caps, and the water bodies. Yama was not piloting an airliner and so he decided to do some serious thinking about bringing “life” in to the business of ‘the afterlife’, like the mortals infuse finds and talent to prop up their conglomerates against stiff competition. Though his undertaking  is an unchallengeable monopoly ,it generated monotony as a waste product.

These thoughts heavily weighed down in mind along with the climb down he did to avoid the wrath of Thrimurthies, sometime ago. As usual, Chitragupta was silently riffling through his calendar of death, amidst the floating ghosts! This deep rooted practice handed down by successive generations probably stood in the way of this present Chitragupta. Yama cast a look of aversion and wondered, “How one can be so old fashioned and attached to those leaves of the ledger?” Furthermore, this obstinacy of Chitragupta against change was really the reason why he, Yamadharmaraj, could not bring in any reform in his domain. He was all set to overcome this resistance even by steamrolling, if required.

Yet he wanted Chitragupta on his side as otherwise many dark secrets and ghost raids might come out like a can of worms. Yama prided himself in using this sort of idioms and phrases picked from the mortals during those innumerable excursions. Sadly, such nuances were not picked up by Chitragupta though he was always a fellow traveler. He concluded: ‘Chitragupta lacks the will to practice new things and now all these things are set to change!”

Broaching the subject of reforms, Yama said, “I have an idea. Why not take the cyber route to be in touch with our targets down-under?

As a matter of routine Chitragupta answered without even hearing what Yama  had just said, “ Why not?” and resumed his thumbing through the ledger.

Sensing a chance, Yama took his thinking one step further, “May be we could ask the ghosts of computer experts with us to think about this possibility?” Yama knew that if he used the one step at a time technique, Chitragupta would always utter the two syllables “why not”.

Cautiously Yama unfolded the next step, “once in place, we can come up with a free App that could tell our targets things they would like to or would not like to know?” Lost in his counts, Chitragupta one again said, “Why not?” Yama sensed now it is like a long haul airliner on auto-pilot. Yama was pleased once again in another appropriate usage of the mortal’s figure of speech.

Yama continued, “May be we could send out alerts on their date of departure which would be useful to know in advance, is it not”? Having heard the ‘not’ in the end, Chitragupta thought to modify his response a little and said, “Oh yes!” Yama was thrilled as his game plan was slowly leading the discussion in the way he wanted it to take!  Unaware of the hoodwinking by his leader, Chitragupta once again buried his nose in the pages where he hoped to find the solution to the erroneous entries that he had detected.

Yama continued, “We can remind them of the sins they have committed with  video clippings as part of the things they would not like to know.  What you say?” Sensing that Yama is confiding in him, more and more, before taking the decision, Chitragupta immediately said, “Yes, a good idea” though he had failed to connect the dots put in place earlier.

“I would mandate the ghosts of computer experts to write a ‘worm’ that will get activated once the App is downloaded. Then onward, the messages will automatically reach the targets via cell phones, desk tops and laptops. There will be no let up. How is the plan?”

Hearing Yama speak like that, Chitragupta decided to delay his response to ascertain whether Yama was continuing to confide in him. A look at Yama’s face reassured him and he hastened to answer, “Very good”.

Chitragupta asked, “What about others who don’t come under our purview?” Yama pitied his naive attempt in trying to appear in the role of a devil’s advocate,” He twirled his mustache fondly and counted the traps he had set up for Chitragupta to walk in and wondered when he would  learn to be alert before rushing with an answer or a question!

“Of course we have to take care of them too. How about reminding them to light this lamp, break that fruit, and distribute this grain or that pulse. Anything to keep them tuned to us. What would you suggest?” 

Chitragupta really started to feel very important now. Bloating with pride in being asked for suggestions, Chitragupta became tongue-tied and managed to nod his head vigorously in the affirmative.

Yama felt he had just navigated through all the vested interest vetoes that could have been exercised by Chitragupta. In a serious of innocent moves, Yama had reduced the dependence on the bulky ledger and its custodian. He hurried on a soul searching attempt – computer experts are in urgent need now!

After solving the problem of fudged entries, Chitragupta turned around and saw the retreating figure of his leader. He vaguely remembered answering the questions posed by Yama, little realising the fact that in effect he had surrendered his own supremacy by nodding his head involuntarily.