A vile entry  

Let me tell you about an incident when a fellow was swallowed by a pattern. Now, some of you readers may raise your brows and say ‘surely that is a fantasy’. I assure you it is real, and I will vouch for it. You may not be convinced so let me narrate as to what really happened so that you can decide on the veracity of my claim. It so happened I was walking through the shaded lane paralleling the backwater, popular with the tourists; an array of restaurants and coffee shops invited them with offseason attractive discounts. After raining heavily for last few days the winter monsoon that swept from the mainland seems to have subsided. The bright sun lit the back water and ignited the drops trapped in all the cervices, on the grass, between the branches and clinging the swaying fronds. I was standing at the arbor crossing keenly witnessing school of little fishes that congregated through the hyacinths plucking the rotting jackfruit. They were like faint waves alive in its action. The fellow at the coffee shop called out to me. He sat under the parasol fashioned like caparison on captive elephants during festivals. He was having coffee, and offered to order for me. I didn’t know him nevertheless accepted the offer. He stood in some deference as I took the bamboo chair. Let me tell you dear readers there is something about coffee that I cannot resist. I don’t know whether he noticed it or not but the reason I stood there pretending to observe the fishes was mainly to waft in the coffee. The pleasantly intoxicating aroma mesmerized my sense into stillness. I could tell from the smoky whiff from the brew that the fresh beans were roasted to perfection. You could almost taste the coffee. The fleeting floral note was just the right mix for the heavenly sip. I had already gravitated towards the shop before he called me out. The moment I sat down the frothing cup was placed. Never in my life was I so disappointed. They slaughtered the coffee by immersing it in syrupy saccharine. The sickly sweet slew my senses and I had ominous sensation of end of the world. The fellow didn't take any note of my situation. He was not even looking at me. “There is a pattern trying to murder me. Can you help? I need help”. So here I was wrenched out my senses gathering to concentrate the fellow. He was middle aged with large eyes and faint moustache in an oversized outfit that was carelessly tucked in. His large eyes pounced on me like wild feline ambushing from the dark. “The pattern that you see are alive. The horizontal that meets the vertical and then the horizontal and the vertical is a trap. It is meant to trap people”. I really couldn’t make head or tail of anything he was saying, or for that matter whether he was even talking to me. I shifted myself, the uneven bamboo poked into my body, and it hurt. “What do you mean?” I couldn’t help asking.

“They are faint to begin with but beckoning nevertheless. So you start tracing it in all earnest. Then quite unexpectedly pronounces itself with deeper lines, it annoys, and start to affect and incite your feelings. You want to escape but have no choice but follow the pattern it exhibits, and then it curves and plunges into abyss. You will have to jump into it to get over it. It keeps repeating every night. There is no escape. It is as if I have lost contact with any reality. Can you save me?” he pleaded, and for a moment he seemed alive. I listened to him intently but couldn’t comprehend his predicament furthermore the coffee was bad and had affected my attitude. I tried to extricate myself from the situation. The fellow seems to have sensed my intention. He said “You give me your phone number. I will contact you”. Sure I said, and blurted a number that I fancied for the moment. I stood up to leave as fast as I could. He punched in the number into his phone, it didn’t ring. I tried to hide my phone, but he saw it so I pretended as if I was shifting it to other hand. “There seem to be some mistake” I apologized and gave him my correct contact number. Dear reader you realize I had no choice. I thanked him for the coffee, and as I crossed the pedestrian bridge over the canal I set to block his number.

Early next morning I get a call from an unknown number, an elderly voice asked me as to who I was and whether I had seen Rajan. I told him I didn’t know any Rajan and why would I tell a stranger who I was when he was the one who is calling. I was irritated by these blunt demands. There was silence and I could hear asthmatic breathing. “Well I am sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you like this early in the morning. Rajan is missing. The last call he made was to your number. Can you please come over?” I was reluctant but he gave me the address. I made a mental note of it. It was on the other end of the town where the lake opened to the sea. The courtyard of the old house had many jungle crows that squabble and create great ruckus on seeing me. A half-naked elderly man opened the door, and hastily led me to a spacious room. “This is Rajan’s room. He was in his room yesterday night but vanished in the morning. The house is locked from inside so he couldn't have left anywhere”

“Why tell me you could call the police?” I asked as I scanned the room.

“No. He keeps vanishing like this for days. This time its different. This was first time he called someone before vanishing” The elderly man picked up the phone to show my number.

Of all the things in the room it was the bed sheet, impeccably spread and delicately tucked over the bed, that fascinated me. It had patterns that were in extreme angles and seem to cancel each other in unseen contradictions. I think I understood the pattern but was surprised by its unexpected detour and shocked as it vanish and camouflage into the surrounding. The more I look at it the more it fed into me. It enmeshed its pattern into my psyche like an indelible memory that start to grow and acquires its own life.  It hits hard and tortures when I lose concentration. It trample me for any mistakes. It is a nightmare that grows. I sensed a constant attempt at defying the natural laws in order to awe and weaken my mind. In the brightness of morning sun that fell through the ventilator the patterns on the sheet lit and revealed weird hidden formless figures that arose and disappear in strange pulsation as if the room is breathing. The pattern reminds of deep agony, of suffering, of all the souls who ever lived. It reminds you of the deceit for greed and treachery for power. It is a pattern that cannibalizes its own design. Sprouting into endless convolution like life itself. Always appearing in riveting patterns to entrap and emasculate the soul.

The slubs on the linen stared like bulbous eyes very much aware of the malicious influence it was having on me. The pattern assembled into twisted bodies and dismembered body parts. They stood around sacrificial alter in great gathering and behead people. They pour the blood to the god. Enormous blabber bellies swallowed all the offering. The hideous lurk behind the pointless conspicuous façade of rituals, and manipulate the pattern. They construct temples, mosques, synagogues, churches, and the pattern repeats itself.

When words find meaning

We learn about the words after being taught of its usage. Later we observe how others use it that stimulates the innate ability to organize the spoken language hard wired through evolution. Meanwhile if we have any doubts about any word that we come across we check the dictionary and align ourselves to the meaning so as to make sense to the reference. We take this initiative since we want others to understand our thoughts hence able to communicate with these basic agreement on meaning.  

Language comes alive in an exchange and expands in a clique setting. It acquires its own life as it strives to grow with the influence, or without. Language can sometimes finds its own way. The words can find its own meanings making our communication meaningless. It has started to happen that the words began to move away from its assigned meaning. So you go to the shop and ask for bottle of wine and the fellow hands you oranges. Its absurd, and then you set out to rediscover the whole act of communication. You point to grapes and act out the crushing, fermentation…so on that he finally gets it with a “Aha”. And hands over the white wine, and then you point to red tapestry on the wall to ask for red wine. It’s been happening all across the world, in all the languages, the words were losing its meaning. Randomly, nevertheless at great pace. There was chaos in the streets, in the offices and at homes. People were first baffled and now quite frustrated as they negotiated their daily life in meaningless communication. They just couldn’t understand why the words wouldn’t carry the meaning. Meanwhile they clung to the words that haven’t lost its meaning yet as if it was their only valuable possession left. They repeated these word to each other so that they could firmly hold on to its meaning. But many suspected that while they repeat these words it seems to be losing its meaning. It was a terrifying reality. It was as if you are standing on a crumbling foundation while staring onto dark unfolding abyss that was engulfing everything around. Some people say that they can see the words moving out into the sky alphabet by alphabet and clung to the passing cloud. While others speculate it must be happening in the darkness of the night otherwise they would have surely seen it. Meanwhile people sat in front of television and laptops surfing channels and websites looking at pictures without having any idea of what was the meaning of what is being said or written. Alphabets were moving around creating random words and unintended meaning. They laughed at the absurdity as leaders spoke with confident demeanor and charm of a salesman but sounded comical and hollow. The meaninglessness was much glaring to everyone as they nodded to each other while they distracted themselves to the noise the words produced –the tone and tenor, they focused on the attire, the color, the quality of stitching so on, and soon conceived their own version of what the leader or the entertainer was trying to say. They laughed loudly, and sometimes uncontrollably, when the body language of the speaker contradicted with what they had conceived as the meaning of the word uttered. This turned out to be quite interesting whiling and satisfying experience as everyone had their own version of reality that they were happy with. They observed the visuals of the news and conceived their own interpretation of what had really happened by logically extending and extrapolating or sometimes in order to not burden their brain –which was becoming quite common, included their own fantastical version, allusions and quirks. It was amazing that they could form reality as they desired. Everyone had their own take on the reality. Since words were meaningless they didn’t share these. They frequently smiled and waved at each other courteously. Sometimes making heart shaped signs or placing their palm on the chest as sign of peace. It was quite a satisfying arrangement. They no longer used words to express anything, and so replaced it with silence and observation. Their body was attuning to the reality in its own unique way and channeling a force they rarely reckon. They look deeply into the flowers and insects, without any distraction. They keenly observe emotions that worked and expressed on faces of fellow humans and animals. They sat quietly under the moonlight to stare at the stars, and wonder about the world. They listen to the call of night birds and the silence that it deepen. They feel the waves thrashing the beach and watch the unsteady claw of crabs grabbing the sand. Gently they were awakening to a new language that was undulating in their mind and reaching out to the universe.                

The Undetectables

The undetected are precious. If you haven’t been detected yet by the growing grid then there is a price on you. If you have arranged deterrents –the grid cancelling thought streamers, so as to be not detected then you are a serious threat to the society. In good old days when nations existed they were called traitors. Now they were the undetectables, the last glimmer of hope in a sanitized oppressive world devoid of any free thoughts. The omniscient grid controlled through thoughts. Every thought was a precious active data that worked to simulate probabilities of actions. Every undetected thought was dead hence not allowed. Silicones conspired on what appropriate decision to be taken for the thoughts that congregated. More than two thoughts had exponential possibilities to it that need to be kept in check before it acquire its own life. Every carbon unit was tagged and categorized. Though moving out of grid was next to impossible but any attempts was dealt swiftly with elimination. The source of the thought was detected and cancelled. The grid reclaimed the carbon, and the cycle was set in. Humans were at the top level of reckoning as they were conscience and aware of their condition. Their thoughts carried complexities that triggered ideas and astounding conceptions. Gene splicing did work to create an unthinking posthumans but these weren’t really needed since during the latter part of human evolution thinking had become an obsolete activity in most humans. The senses were what mattered. There was always a craving that was sought to be satisfied.  The grid sought to upgrade this pliable version.

This is how the reality was being shaped and conceived as the grid takes over the world. The climate collapse has reduced the carbon units substantially particularly the humans though there were considerable numbers of reptiles that slither in the flooded muck and created their own niches. All the carbon units were given every possible freedom except the freedom to think. Humans were especially scrutinized for aberrance considering the past evolutionary achievements. The deep loop in which posthumans existed satisfied all their needs and desires. There were no wars, no shortages of any kind. It was blissfully designed world. The molecules rearranged to produce whatever was needed. Their controlled thoughts passed through the interface to decipher the desire. Corresponding molecules worked through the code and appeared as what was desired in three dimension for consumption. Just like what was done in places known as kitchen in olden times, and later ordered through restaurants. It was clean, hygienic and just as they desired. It was like their prayers were being answered instantly. It was bliss. There was no need to question the goodness of the grid. It was omniscient and listened to each and every desire of yours. It understood you, and took care of you. There were no complaints. It were the undetectables who were problematic, and emerged from random dark corners to commit blasphemy. Posthuman’s found them extremely irritating, and couldn’t understand what their problem was. They concluded that undetectables didn’t know how to enjoy life. They felt sorry for them, lately they pitied them. Meanwhile undetectables hadn’t given up hope. They try to ignite the spark of human nature into posthumans. It was futile effort, long sedated from their bearing they just couldn’t comprehend. Some brushed these away as they felt uncomfortable. It seems as if thinking made them frustrated. Something in their brain worked against these and created unfavorable possibilities of reality.  Undetectables didn’t give up hope, they really didn’t have anything else to hinge, to relocate human nature into posthumans. They relentlessly tried to awaken the posthuman through glitch in the system and vehemently pushing cancelling streamers. But these were invain as the thought aberrations were reflected only in confusion. Grid was swift in rectifying. The confusion was resolved with new desire. The new desire was then kept at abeyance to reach a craving this then was granted with elaborate fanfare. The recipient was indebted for the fortunate blessings, and was thus made to feel the benevolent power of the grid. The grid was the god that designed all that was there to understand. There was nothing beyond it. The grid guided all confusions into resolution. Ofcourse grid had its reason that were not to be questioned. They were to have faith. Posthumans were happiest of all the humans ever existed. They printed beautiful shrines for the grid, deliberating and carefully choosing from the available template. They had algorithms of prayer fed onto them that they recited when they were confused or had weekend get-together. This kept them calm and contented. They thanked the grid on every available occasion.           

Precious evolutionary and social derivatives that once defined the human nature and contributed to much of its progress like critical thinking, creativity, inquisitiveness and empathy were effectively sedated. Posthumans had all the luxuries that they desired. They also had their family unit designed just as they requested. They all knew grid had bigger plans for them, and they waited anxiously for the message. They just need to pray harder, and emulate the template of kindness to their fellow posthumans. In case of deviance from any of its member they knew they were to be sacrificed for the good of the grid. The template of kindness had limitation and couldn’t be extended beyond the restrictions that were set. They worked to the algorithm, the deep learning worked its compliance into them. They knew how to enjoy the sunshine and appreciate the flower.

Beware the dead puffer fish

It will sound unbelievable, if not ridiculous, but that is what really happened. He found himself floating in the air. It happened without any premonition. It was a promising day, the sun was out shining silver after the overnight rain. He felt the fresh drenched air wafting through open window it carried the hint of sweet rot of cashew apple and salty humidity of the ocean. He could hear the soft trills of sand plovers as they hastily avoid the abrupt waves. He got up to heat the leftover coffee from the kettle into the mug. And there, he was floating in the air. Not too high just about a feet from ground. He was taken in by surprise and shock, unbalanced himself and fell back on the cot. His first impression as he got hold of himself was that he was probably having a stroke or something. He checked himself. He was fine there wasn’t any numbness or pain in any part of his body. On second thought it could be an earthquake. He had been reading about recurrent tremors being reported in the region. He surveyed the scene. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Even the delicately balanced art work was undisturbed. Maybe he slipped so he tried to stand but his feet wouldn’t touch the ground. It was as if a strong force was repelling him from the earth similar to when you try to bring like poles of two magnets together. He attempted to balance himself. He wobbled like a needle on a compass before settling and finding his natural upright position. But he just couldn’t walk or shall we say move forward. Despite bizarre situation he was not immune to laws of physics and it still applied. His feet need friction to stride. He realized that he could pull on to stationary object to gain momentum and slide in the air with remarkable ease. It was as if he was skateboarding without any skates. He was quite excited when he dressed to go out. He seemed to have taken the curious situation as his new normal. Even people on the street didn’t see anything amiss. Instead of shocked surprise they just moved aside to let him pass as they do for any person in a hurry. Nobody gave him a second look as he cruised the footpath and try to chase shore birds on the beach. He realized that he couldn’t elevate the height of his flight. It was fixed about a feet from the ground. He felt embarrassed nevertheless in his excitement he didn’t give it much of a thought. Next few days he kept himself busy exploring every nook and corner of the city, as he learned to get into a flow unseen by any human. Meanwhile some changes were happening in him. Like a man balanced in the air his thoughts and actions too acquired a new nuance. He seemed inclined to balance actions and opinions. He realized this when he interfered in a fight at the local eatery. Most days he would have avoided such situations and steer clear of any trouble. Now though he pursued it. He try to find balance among the disputing forces and fractious relations. Even when he saw a pattern that is not balanced it troubled him no end. An unkempt lawn, or wall hanging not in proper alignment with the dimensions of the wall, left him exasperated and deeply anxious. A firm thought was drilling and centering into his mind that he need to find balance of things. Very soon he acquired a reputation in the neighborhood as balancing man –a cheerful fellow who sought to balance and bring peace. He was invited to resolve dispute, all kinds of dispute, from domestic to property, even children called him up to arbitrate their silly fights and disagreements. He attended to these with utmost jovial sincerity. More people came to know about him, among some he acquired a cult status. The going was good and he enjoyed himself immensely as he cruised from one issue to another, seeking balance. The trouble started when he tried to balance issues that needed one to take firm stand. It all began when he expressed himself on matters of environmental degradation that he sought to balance destruction of nature and needs of development. This immensely pleased real estate developers and corrupt politicians. He was able to articulate exactly what they seek to manipulate and plunder, hence they promoted him. The local population suspected him as an agent of money bags. Meanwhile he continued to doggedly pursue his immense urge for balance. He was quite candid about the need to continue with fossil fuel vehicles while seeking to reduce pollution. On climate change he sought to bring all the views and work out a balance. He said these animatedly and with increasing enthusiasm. Life is cyclic. Everything is cyclical. When there is a beginning there is an end. And in the end there is beginning. These will have to find its balance. When you find balance you find peace. There is no good or bad, nor right or wrong, it’s all matter of balance. It’s about how things are arranged. A stone balance artist balancing rocks and stones one over another immaculately as a miracle by working its crevasse to connect to the flow of the gravity, sensing infinite potential of each stone intimately and  enjoy the balance of uncountable forces of the moment. Next he tried to balance facts and fiction, real and unreal…he got into some kind of frenzy to balance. Though he felt immensely satisfied with himself he was being seen as a maverick by alarmed public. He just couldn’t understand their grouse. He even tried to convince them about the need to find balance in order to discover long lasting peace. A balanced world is a nonviolent world. Compromise. Balance your ego with reason, pride with love. His attempts at balancing the world antagonized a large section of people who saw him as trivializing issues that hinged on their survival.

He cruised the beach, flirting with the waves, balancing his actions and let his mind control his moves. A massive wave crashed and unbalanced him. Any other day he would adeptly balance himself like a well-tuned gyroscope and stabilize but today was different. He fell flat, his head hitting the grainy sand. It was after months that he had the feel of the ground, of the earth. He tasted the salty warm beach. He focused on the dead puffer fish. The spiny scale all ballooned up as if ready to explode its toxic entrails as final show of contempt to its fate. He thought it was funny that there was disbelief on the face of dead fish.                                               

Planet of colors

There is a little planet in deep space that dance in colors. Quarter the size of earth’s moon it is located many light years away it revolves around three suns such that there is no spot of darkness, nor is there any whiteness, only colors, a dizzying array of colors. A bright lit planet dancing in all shades of colors covering the whole spectrum of light it could take from all the suns. The random moving atoms gain traction to bind into molecules to express in colors. When they arrange into happy colors it triggers the molecules to attach more atoms to create a mass that distribute functions to pulse more ways to sense and exhibit happiness. They grow bigger, as they saturate they split into explosions of colors. They repeat by regrouping, gathering faraway atoms, growing into colorful selves. The atoms meshing into different strands of molecules to trap the passing light as the colors mesh into different tones and brightest shades. These moments of growing and eventually into colorful explosion is how life is being defined here in this planet.  The amount of colors the molecules display, as they coalesce into being, working shapes of their choice, displayed their valuation of life in that brief moment. Some effort into tentacles while others gain enormous size, some grew taller, narrow so on. Every shape was a new discovery that lodged itself into the consciousness of being and left a imprint in its quantum memory. Shapes gets complicated over time but eventually burst into great show of gaiety. The spectacular the display worthy the moment.    

Colors sense the surrounding and work to morph itself into the sensations. The struggle of being into the immediate dictated the state of mind. Nascent but conscious. These boundaries of interactions set the tone for predominating emotion that spread through the planet exhibiting the riot of colors that then pattern the state of being. The atoms are in great deal of excitement as they coalesced into molecules to give life to emotion so as to define the being. The being spread across the space in growing leisure while the molecules agree to synchronize into vibrant colors. There is no sound. There is no concept of sound. No noise. Only colors that communicate and celebrate the unique expressions of life. From afar it gives the impression that the planet pulsates in an eternal ecstasy. It radiates a message that doesn’t needs any medium to decipher. It grows into you.