Monday, October 15, 2012

September 15, 2010



I have learned about colours first from nature and the only and one colour i was familiar with in my childhood was green. From my village to my school i had to walk through paddy fields and green was the only colour i could see around me during those days.

From my school going days to my present encounter with chemical dyes i learned that a few presidents and chief editors can kill a colour for a story or for a column or for a bagful of coins.

Gayatri was surprised and Meera was shocked and me the green lover never thought colours could fight on one open platform in a way to rip off the brain from its beautiful thought streams. 

Gayatri wrote in her diary in her own natural style:

Mr. President, you taught me nothing from a bowl full of colours apart from the smallness of your mind.. Do i need to show gratitude for your cruelest form of games and ridicules and biscuit crumbs. Do i need to be a doormat for people like you to step on and splash colours and their unprecedented bias, prejudice and nepotism. Do i need to be an item for people like you to crack unethical jokes. I am a person who remembers even the smallest gift a person gives me with full heart but i am this terror that i silence not my inner voice if you try to  reward me with a million biscuit crumbs and try to create a fun series on my life. When i open the pages on which you liberally donated your nepotism i understand from where your colours imported from. My thoughts are beyond the colors of your Chemical brain mould and  i have not learned like you to say go to hell on a plate full of sweet butter cookies...

Too blunt too rude.. too impolite... too arrogant...and i know Gayatri is upto yet another trouble but it is a fact that she was trained by wrong teachers for over a period of  almost six years exactly from 2007 to 2012..

Meera is on websites of Nobel Writers and she wants to write like the greats and me the soul searcher calculated the people who turned against nature and its beautiful green.

One President

One Unwise Diplomat
A Few Chief Editors
Few News Readers
Few Timid Hired Writers
A few who always want to fall on the feet of the powerholds
A few Indian and Oceania score settlers
And a few who join any political party if they receive favors.

Gayatri laughed at my calculations and expressed her blunt views  that i don't need to worry because Duryodan had hired the entire army of Lord Krishna to fight for the battle of Kurukshetra and it is ok if people around create a padmavyuh for me to fight and die. 

Meera cannot write  poems freely on soul or any topics in general that  if she does she can expect mean soles from the presidential colloquium and caricatures in chemical dyes.

Meera will be writing day and night and she sits in front of her Penium 4  in search of  poetic words and she creates poems without looking around the world. She is born to write poems.

Gayatri showed me what she has written about the poetry craze of Meera.

Colors, predictions, threats, bias, prejudice, injustice, ridicule, sympathy, charity.. Meera is beyond all these frivolous things.  Meera is fearless when it is of her poetry that she waits not for favours and mind it if you offer her biscuit crumbs.  I know she is worth to feel in that way. If you don't know her do not try to judge her with your knotted unwise brain that you need to take several births to understand her.

Gayatri showed me what Meera has written about her and she is very proud that Meera has penned down a few lines for her....

When i look for my fearless other half

there i find Gayatri
the one and only reflection
i cherish
to see a world, like in one transparent
printing sheet
where on the machines when i find
days slicing my heartbeats
i know from the heart of my heart
who stands by me in one otherwise
shattered world
and i hear her 

It is on the day  Gayatri told me that someone in this planet wanted to have a colour competition on how to create a Real Padmavyuh from the  epic Mahabharat to chase out  human beings who question the ones who believe that they are  non questionable.

From the history books to legends it is known that all the battles are fought for silly and selfish reasons and later find a place in the pages of History and invariably gain this very attractive name- epic .  Like in one modern day epic there emerged a Padmavyuh in several million chemical dyes and Meera I can see sitting there on a core  point with no fear of any vyuh or platoons. Gayatri is blunt and rude at times where i have realigned my soul with Meera,  the original me. 

No phobia for any colors in my origin. It is pure like monsoon rain drops and we find not any colours in rain drops and when it rains i know it is like a beautiful poem...

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