In reverence to the unmajestic crows

Today morning, when I went to feed them, they didn't come. The crows. Wondered what I must have done, that upset them. Them and saturn and time. But I needn't have worried.. Had forgotten to take my lunch.. was reading. And then they came to my window and crowed.. oh my dearest crow friends, how happy was i to see you! :-) Two of them came today. Bali kakas. of the darkest black. with the coarsest voice. you crows, you with the energy of shani - the sun's son.. born from a shadow's womb.. who is brother to death, with the coal black eyes and a limp..
the world deems u ugly, coarse.
but heed i do you.. and will continue to, even if am swept upon a cloud..
for i know, time, time, time, is the one that set the stage even for creation..
as Chronos. Castrating Uranus, made life flow from Rhea..
And I find you, the time.
Ubiquituous. loud. yet so very often unheeded...

Condensing Space span

My day used to span earth and the sky
gLee and Sartre and Penck and Jung
Simba and Siva . yoga and belly dancing
But lately it spans just 5'11''
But I find all the seas and stars and songs and thoughts of the world in it! :-D

Mind in a glen, not the mind in a plain

Sun and rain and the field and marsh were all the same
In the plain of solitude hands waving freely by my side
No prayer on the lips, no worry on the mind
Found a feather of fire on the way
Took me to scale a mountain, it did
Have never felt so alive
But at the slighest rumble from the sky
My lips have only prayers and heart beats faster
Let not a drop of rain fall on it
Don't mind, holding tighter, the burns that may be, as I hold so tight
But let not a drop of rain fall on it.

Randoms

I love myself. I want who and what that makes my heart skip a beat; I want who and what takes me up on a rainbow
I seekthat who and what.
When I find the who and what, I whirl around the the who and what in solemn circles. Weaving along, a tapestry of promises, dreams and care. Guarding. Cherishing.
Somewhere along I lose my self. it goes flying along some tangent.
Now a self lost is but a selfless.

Selfish love is not a block, but a means to selfless love.

I feel so beautiful today.. There is this person size mirror on the wall in front of my study desk.. and it seems to show someone else . A bespectacled head in an oversized T over an oversized Bermuda over over sized thighs. I feel so headily sure about me being beautiful that am sure the mirror has perception problems.. This usually annoying housefly, that has made me and my study desk, its morning leisure visits, swatting away whom, is my usual morning routine, seems like a poor besotted fellow drawn by my beauty.
Can hear Mommy coming down.. I wonder whether she'll notice

Mission: Sex them plants up.

Tried downloading Tarzan cartoon with Vuze. and when all downloaded and unzipped, it turned out to be Tarzan hard core. And I actually deleted it. which was more than 5 mins before I realised the aberration. I think I've stopped making eggs since I stopped eating them. Travesty. My pug nose would go un-inherited. The red lingerie set Rochelle gave me would go unexploited. More than 5 years of dedicated theory building will go un-empiricised. No singing Freak like me. No dancing DirtyDancing..

I just can't go back to Non Veg. Got the idea of non violenent eating too deep. 'Incepted'.
There is just one option left. Another Inception. On Plants!
Try corrupt the plants. Maybe I can keep some of them veggies bound in playboy covers, and keep them rice and wheat in white satin pillow cover. And maybe I can even play Olivia Newton's song Physical when i cook my Maggi. It oughta soak in then, all the good, carnal and sensuous! And thereby help me recorrupt myself! I always did believe one is what one eats. I just forgot to zoom in on the implications and realise what happen when one eats only Plants, who just leave seeds around when they want a little plant.
Really.
Vegetarians of the World, Unite!. Corrupt those plants! We have nothing to lose but our 'control'!

Lost in interpretation

I was 4 months old.
I reached for a bright pink ball kept near my pillow.
It was too far away, and my grasp failed.
My mom saw my extended hand, and she gave it meaning
She turned my personal monologue into a dialogue
O you want this?, said she, as she leaned forward to take the pink ball and put it in my hand.
Since then it has been happening, happening
People interpreting me. Telling what the sounds and moves i make, mean.
I have learnt the rules. learn to shape coherent responses and dialogue.
And they inturn have given me dolls, pals, golden medals, kisses and poetry
But have taken away, my own personal meanings for sounds and moves and very being itself.
Poorer, growing poorer, as my vocabulary increases..

The truth of my experience is so frustratingly, puzzlingly, non linear. Where are the lines?!