Saturday, June 30, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
round and round, messy all over,
Sirius sparkles through the brume
when words fall short, it is the shine that speaks
either is conspicuous inside the soul
it is time, the worm must extrude itself
the wings are coiled up, by them
extend the claw,
embrace the animal and catch one of those nuggets
that run wild with a distinct cry
for it is time
And so, moonstruck narrowed down to few people in his life via a cellphone. Who says technology is NOT a boon?
The thing with people is, they are born unique. Ergo, every soul must make an effort to make that distinction in his head about the language of the message he wishes to get across another soul. But we don't do that. Because it is difficult and given the comfort of not exercising your brain, who would possibly want to do something like that. But then, there are people like me who do that all the bloody time and receive flak for it. A close person once told me, 'Kirit, if you can't talk straight, don't expect the world to go on deducing meanings'. I never asked that because if at all, I converse subtly, it is with those who are in the first place close to me. At least, that is what they make you understand about them. When I can make an effort to understand them without them telling me, why can't they understand me without me telling them? Balls to your intelligence and affection then.
I have been wondering for quite some time to talk it out with Mary Jane. Once she asked me whether she takes me for granted. These questions puzzle me as they don't have a definitive answer. And if your (supposed) best friend asks you something like this, what do you say? Yes, there have been umpteen instances where this has happened. I don't have a complaint, but there were times when I wanted to cry and didn't know what to do. And there was always a doubt regarding calling her up. I have dropped direct hints but all in vain. But then, I don't hate these 'close' people for not getting me, but...
If you sit down with your pal, and explain how it is all going wrong or there is something discomforting, does it not mean that you are forced to talk it out. It is unlike calling up your friend and asking what's wrong from the very hello she utters. But that never translates into a reality, for me.
They say my language is difficult. I say you are a fuckin' idiot. I really wonder there is something wrong with me. And the more I spend time in solitude, the more comforting it gets. I really wish there is a day when people wake up and to their horror, they can not talk, at all. Language is a convoluted paradigm for numerous thoughts and perceptions; it is certainly not a civilised and designed manner of speech. Then, we'll talk...
Friday, June 22, 2007
While I was talking about the problems that this girl has created in the past three months for me and Cobain, esp him, there was a direct quote from me. "I have lost the friend in her and there is no way for fuck's sake that I would talk to her anymore."
"Your hands off approach is quite interesting Kirit," he remarked.
And I was left wondering that it is so important to speak directly to the world all the bloody time so that they "get it". That said, there is no chance Moonstruck would do that, ever. I love talking in read between the lines manner and enjoy it. Those wishing to get closer and discern the meaning, eventually end up doing that.
But this is not the point. The fact that I could let her, a friend, go away very easily without any fights or confrontations shows that I am no longer affected by people doing that to me. And it is such a relief. I am yet to get over my school nightmares and here I stand waving goodbye to Lebwoski when she does not even bother to look. I did my bit, Cobain did his bit till the end. But there is no ray of hope at all. And yes, I did feel bad for a long time, and as always didn't say it. Two days down the line, it is all normal for me. Popped a thought - Hope I haven't become a soul with an iron heart. That is what A also thinks at times and I ignore that. Ignore, because that is the only option.
Specimens like me have to grow with solitude, as it is then we start appreciating ourselves. Let it appear to the world that this one is heartless and chooses to keep his hands off. How does it matter? When it never mattered to them while we had our hands on!
Thursday, June 21, 2007
It so happened one evening (precisely two days back). I was enjoying the setting sun with Johnnie Walker giving me varied perspectives on life. Having worked for nearly 7 years now, it was time to look back to step onto the future. Anyway, that is abstract gibberish from Moonstruck which he indulges in all the bloody time. So, as the clock ticked, there was a call from an unidentified number - I don't like talking to unknown numbers as it gives me the feeling of not knowing them. It was Pallavi, a classmate from Amity, who was calling for the first time since we bid goodbye to that shithole of a college (circa 2004). She is the perfect example of a jobhopper (four jobs in three years is not my idea of working) and someone who completely lacks skills. No wonder she fits to a T when it comes to a "journalism" job. Pallavi asks me to give her some contacts who work in call centre and do drugs. Huh? The peg of the story is the other side of call centre lifestyle. Erratic schedules, performance, and dependency on cannabis and alcohol. What the fuck is that? "Kirit, see the lifestyles of these people is so haphazard that they end up inculcating all these wrong habits. And I need people who can say that 'yes I am in this line and am involved in all of this'." OK! I gladly deny that I don't have any such phone numbers. I added that yes a lot of guys chase and score but it is mostly ganja and charas, what you call cream in popular "cool" terms. "What is chase and score Kirit?" I was like, what the fuck do these guys do in terms of reporting when they don't know basic terms associated with their story. And she is not the only one. A reporter from my former newspaper did a story on Animation, courtesy his "source" Arena Multimedia. Here he says and please don't laugh:
"What happens when the lion roars thrice?
A Tom and Jerry cartoon starts off!"
I died laughing with dismay writ large over my face. Surface value shit totally pisses me off.
It is like a point that Jabberwock makes in his post on Calvin and Hobbes. But here this does not amuse anybody, certainly not the reader who will pass it off. Yet, the bosses are happy, the reporter is happy and well... Pallavi works with Business Today and if this is the story they are doing, man, now I can surely say, "Even god can't save journalism."
Post Script: Aanchal says "Kirit, we don't see things the way they are; we see them the way we are. And moonstruck just smiles.
Friday, June 08, 2007
And then she looks at me with a HHMMPHH. OH, my god, Pallavi, the cute toddler?!? Of course bhaiyya. Man, this girl was one of my favourites in school, really beautiful and intelligent and not one of those bookworms. I had a joint in my hand and was smoking without realising that she was a munchkin. We sort of exchanged news, whats up and whats happening and where is didi kinds and then I was suddenly taken back. "Can I have a drag?" You mean, a joint. Of course... Hey just how old do you think you are pallavi. I am 20 and I guess I can have it, if you don't have a problem. You are 20??????? What is my age then?
Shit, it then dawned upon me that it has been 7 years since I left school. And soon, I will be older. These kids have grown up in front of me man, I mean it won't have happened so fast. What? Where, what the how the what the fuck, oh god!
And I wonder that sometime you really have to catch up with yesterday and be ready for tomorrow at the same time.
When I logged into Orkut today morning, there was a scrap by Aanchal Khurana. A senior who was repeating her 9th with us, I quite liked her for the cute, shy demeanour. I don't remember if I have ever liked a chubby girl. Actually, no, I haven't ever. Her neighbour Nitasha (Oh, how I hate her so much for turning her back on me after 10 years of friendship) was my classmate and a friend. The obvious questioning happened and before I could realise, everyone knew about it. I was like so embarrassed and being the reticent geek sort, there was this feeling of running away from everything. On the last day of our exams, this was few weeks down the line, she came up to me and was like Hey Kirit, how are you, heard that you wanted to talk to me. I was like yaaa, just normal chit chat. And then we said goodbye for the holidays and went away.
After that, the new standard and new talks. I wanted to talk to her but didn't know how, so asked Nitasha again. And the same routine, everyone was like, you wish to talk to Aanchal? Prachi (at that time, she was the hottest girl we had, or so the guys told me), her confidante came up to me and said talk to her naa.
There came a moment in the Interval that I broke down. There was so much confusion in my head, so many voices and then so much of embarrassment, that I was dying out of frustration. My friends did not know how to handle me, so Nitasha came up and offered to take me to her. I was like, No go away go away. Then Prachi came up and gave me a small letter. I was touched! And soon, Aanchal and I started talking.
One day, I said a hi and the response was cold, and came with that typical female arched-brow look. Fuck, what happened. Abhishek said, why did you say that Aanchal is really hot and that's why you wanted to know her and that is the reason why you liked her etc etc. What, I didn't say that. I mean back in school, Kirit Kiran was the last guy to mention something like that. I asked him, Prachi and Nitasha to help me, but Prachi was disappointed; the damage was done. I was glad to learn that Aanchal understood that I can not say something like that, come what may. But she chose to bury the friendship that was yet to start. I was obviously too pissed. She then wrote another letter saying what all she felt during this time and asked Prachi to hand it to me.
Feeling too bad about the whole thing and yes, I was also angry at her, the letter was tucked in one of the registers and well, apparently forgotten. Thereafter, we just exchanged hi and bye.
Cut to 2000 November, I was cleaning my room and throwing all the notes pertaining to the school times. And there were notes from Priyanka who still accuses me of ruining a great friendship, my only slam book replete with those meaningful 'love' remarks (and I still have it) , few of my writings and a letter - from Aanchal.
She told me about how bad she has felt about the whole thing and all that she wanted was me to come there and talk to her about it. Poor girl had lost her father quite early and that explained why she went into a shell and how she is so scared of people coming close to her. She wished that we could go ahead with the friendship, and that it is now my turn to talk to her.
I felt terribly bad, didn't know what to do and whom to talk. School was over and there was nothing left except memories. I couldn't discuss this with anyone either. I still feel so guilty for making the girl wait for an answer or some reaction except a mundane Hi. All this time, I thought why she did when she was thinking why didn't he come up with a reply.
And all those memories came back... I really hope and pray to God that I am given one chance to talk to the girl. I know it is not something which was that big, for me it is very important. I keep crying of people misunderstanding me all the time, and this girl wanted to hear my side of story. But I was not in the frame of mind to talk to her; that does not explain my not reading the letter.
And I wonder if language is our forte, what stops us to say the right thing at the right time. I wonder if Aanchal would see me again and talk to me. I may not get the friend back, but she would know the real thing... And one misunderstanding in this world would be cleared.
She was really hot and had sharp features. With sharp I mean, Nicole Kidman sharp. The quintessential figurine of the Indian femme took shape in my head. The waist, perfectly shaped and sized bosom that could make any man have 'a ripple in his jeans' instantly(I thought this was some silly expression until I actually heard from Sassy that men do say that). Women of today have a problem, they have asses and they have asses; none of them can boast of the utterly sexy 'apple' derrière that made the women of 60s and early 70s gorgeous (think Claudia Cardinale, Sophia Loren et al). This is something that makes black and young punjabi women sexy, who somehow still carry it. And she had it. There was something about her eyes and I have been trying to define it since I was a sophomore, but still can't. In fact, her aura was so infectious that anyone just wanted to be with her. Since humans lack basic intelligence, the men thought the only was to have her was to do her. And it came at a price. Tilotama was elegant; she was like the Grace Kelly of the Jaipur lot of 'loose women'. I was disgusted when told the definition of a prostitute by a senior; the phrase in the previous sentence. I was like WHY?
When I told this to my mom, she said, "What's your problem? And what's your senior's problem that he calls her that? Don't you guys read the dictionary?" Mom, I sure did and it iterates the same. I remember the look on mother's face, she was disgraced at the mentality of the specie.
Anyway, I finally got a chance to meet Tilotama while I was waiting for one of my friends outside her house. She was coming from the market and saw me and then just smiled at me. I didn't know why and when I mentioned this to my friends, they were like, 'stay away dude. This is the easiest trap given we are so young'. No, I didn't think so.
Anyhow, the next encounter was when me and Abhinav were passing her house and the pervert recollected how she takes a nice bath and caresses herself at 8:30 pm. STOP and deflate the rear tyre. And that did happen. I was already feeling my thing hardening when suddenly she saw us. Abhinav ran away and I was like oh god, what the fuck, behnchod ruk; the scooter had the keys and my diary was inside the front cabinet. She came down and gave me the stern look that saw me peeing in the pants, not literally.
"Kya kar rahe ho yahaan?"
"Kuch nahee, woh tyre puncture ho gaya thaa (thank god it was fully deflated)"
I don't know and wasn't expecting it when she came closer and said "Koi baat nahee" with a smile. Seeing me sweat like anything, she offered me some thanda. I nodded.
Her drawing room exuded warmth and there was a specific incense purifying the air. Then the introduction part comes into play. "Itnee raat ko tum log loafergiri kar rahe ho (it was 9pm and in Jaipur, that is way too late), mummy papa kuch kehte nahee."
I told her that we were headed for home only. What caught my eye in the room was the five-star simplicity, the books, beads, colour codes and a nice geometrically stable pattern of architecture. It was getting way too uncomfortable given the time and place, but something was holding me back.
Anyhow, I bid her goodbye and left.
No one knew that I spent half an hour at her home, except the behn ka lund Abhinav and I made him promise that this does not go beyond the two of us.
A month down the line while a group of family friends were at Nahargarh fort, there she stood having beer with some foreigners. She saw, I saw and we both saw each other seeing. "Meet my little friend," she introduced me to her Belgian 'friends'. "You got some libido young turk! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA," those idiots remarked.
Chutiye saale!!!! (And I was giggling in my head) Tilotama too understood my expression.
We then went one day for coffee in a discreet cafe in Civil Lines, the only place where no one knew me and at a time when there won't be any one. I discovered this woman was from St Stephens when the lure of money forced her to drop her college. Not exactly a Delhi person, she carried all the traits of one, albeit the decent/classy ones. "Back then, I saw sleeping around or entertaining someone for a good amount was just so cool. Coming from a family where we used to save every paisa and live like paupers, it was a sudden fresh lease of life for me."
"So you started this when you were like 17/18?"
"Yes, 18. I had a friend who was into this and she along with her boyfriend was used to get clients from five star hotels and places like Ghungroo. Initially it was just hanging out with a nice, sexy female and then graduation happened."
At this, her eyes, that all this while were talking to my eyes directly, go down.
"I didn't know money fucks your brain this way. And to say that it is entirely money's fault is like the weakest excuse. I was enjoying it all through."
"I made this profession when I was discovered in one of these offices had I started going to. One of the clients of this famous ad agency, then the boss and the creative head, all had slept with me. You know, the so called repute. Jerks."
Then we changed the topic to travelling; I told her about ISKCON, Pushkar, Prajakta, my college, friends and etc etc. Books too were a common interest. It was like a good 3-hour 'date', as we then called it.
"Don't you feel odd sitting in front of me? In every sense."
"No, why should I?"
"Because you know who I am kid, that's why!"
"But I quite like you in a certain way and I don't really have an answer for this."
"(Smile) In a certain way? The flat tyre on Abhinav's scooter?"
"I think you are really hot and haven't come across one no sexy. Also, it is got nothing to do with your profession; I just seem comfortable."
"So I am hot! How many women have you been till now Kirit?"
"Great! 19 year old who has already had two girls in his life thinks I am the hottest thing and has no qualms about sitting across in an isolated coffee shop. Don't get me wrong, you are just a nice person who I guess wants to know new people. Keep that up.....(Pause)"
//////// A lot happened within this conversation that I for some reason wouldn't reproduce here. And it was all verbal, talks. I have a problem, I don't talk one person to another. I just cherish what happened at that moment inside my heart. This was one hell of a meeting as we discussed men, women, my bisexual desires, her encounters and funny men who didn't know how to put a condom on, how do I think she is hot etc etc./////////////
While leaving, I offered to drop her and she refused with a smile. Just gave me a hug, patted my cheek and left.
A week down the line, Abhinav told me about her being in trouble from the neighbours. When he told me the entire incident, I was so disgusted that I decided to see her immediately. There were three-four workers helping her pack things and Tilotama looked so tired. At first, she was like 'Why the fuck you are here' kind of a look. And she directed her servant to bring me some water and told me to find a place to sit. I sat down in the verandah's shade.
"They have told me that my effect would be bad on their children and husbands. Surprisingly the men were doing all the talking. Anyway, I am off to Bombay to stay with an old friend. I didn't say it but wanted you to come over and see for yourself the state of the affairs. (pause) Even though a randi does not harm anyone, she is panned by these people thinking she would always do it. You said I was infectious, I guess they didn't quite get it or got it really seriously." "I hope you are ok!" (What else could I have said?)
"No, you keep hoping I GET OK. I am off to another place and hope there aren't people like here. It is not their fault, Jaipur is a small city, people still have some values and prefer to follow lives like their ancestors. Kuch hai is shahar mein, in sab chhote shehron mein and I guess there was some disturbance in the equilibrium. So it is not really their fault."
Will I ever get to see you, I ask in my head.
"I don't think Kirit we will ever see each other again. But there is just one thing I wanted to tell you. Be the way you are, kind, friendly, not biased at all, tough gunda on the outside and soft like an ice cream inside. I hope the worldly things don't corrupt your brain or better still, you don't let them corrupt your brain. You may not find many fans, friends and well wishers, but there will be ones who will know you as a person and not what you look. Take care of that. My best wishes for your future. Make your parents proud, some people never understand this phrase at all. Instead, they choose to pollute everything they grew up with."
With this we got up and gave each other a tight hug.
She waved at me from her balcony as I with a confused look and a smile, went away to the railway track (this was one of the places I used to drink beer in solitude).
I never saw her again and will never.
What I don't get is the attitude of people towards women like Michelle and Tilotama. They are as ordinary as all of us. Their choice of vocation might differ but to each his own. And their profession is very short-lived. When I was driving back day before after spending time with Michelle, I wondered that they can also use a friend. I can, at any time, go to her place and hang out with Rashelle. Or I could just discuss men and women with Tilotama. We humans have everything for us, except moments of bonding with one another. And it is time we start doing it, regardless of what or how the fuck the other person does or lives like. Yes lostlittlegirrl, we fuck them and then fuck their names and lives as a society.
I just know that a friend who could have turned out to be a great friend, went away because of the people who she never touched and who never understood her.
But as I have always believed, Tilotama and I will cross each other again, some day.
People, please start living with love, throw the prejudices, bias, mindsets et al into the trash bin. Aditi always said, 'Every human deserves respect by the virtue of him/her being human/alive'.
This is what her main blog has for an introduction:
Feb, 2006. For the past five months I have been living alone in a car at the edge of the woods — jobless and homeless and totally unable to find a way out of it. I can't sing, I can't dance, I can't scream loudly enough, alI I can do is write. So here I am laying down tracks...hopefully the start of an online paper trail out of here. (Started writing this blog-journal, at the beginning of February, 2006. So probably best to start reading, backwards, from there — in the Archives).
Then some time late, she struck a book deal. She mentions this on her other blog - Anya Peters.
And the book is finally out. It is called Abandoned and well I have to get my hands on it.
Check out her blogs in the links section.
Congratulations wandering scribe. You are a rare blogger albeit a good one.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
So, anyway, Michelle and I were supposed to meet while I was in Goa and do it. Somehow, it didn't seem right and the timing was inappropriate anyhow. We kept in touch and if I tell the person who gave her number that I have been talking to her and did go to her house to see her, he would be shocked and straightaway call me a big chut. Like that would deter me.
Both of us just wanted to meet as it had been a real long time. As I wait for her to come out of her home, with a zillion thoughts running in my head, there she comes with a toddler beside her. I first think, that is some decoy, taking the kid out for a walk and have a tete-a-tete with me. She introduces me to the kid who is just sooooooooooooooo cute.
Rashelle is her daughter. I was like, hmmm, ok!
So we move up and settle in the matchbox the poor soul lives in. It is a small 12 feet by 10 feet room with a small kitchen. There are two six feet long mattresses with some teddy bears on it. A small cooler, tv, fridge and stereo make up for the gizmo part of it.
She was not trying to entice me in anyway; all she wanted was to meet this new stranger called Kirit that she had been talking on phone for some time. And there was no squirming. It was not the first time I was meeting someone who is in this profession. Michelle I learnt, through her friend and our talks, is a divorcee. She came to Delhi from Myanmar with her husband 5 years back to help him with the garment business. Soon, her beau met some interesting clients who took the man to Belgium. He anyway had lost interest in her and well left her, not without her daughter.
"Every Saturday is paycheck time," she said. "That is the reason I can't see you on weekends; work calling you see. I have her to feed and soon she has to go to school as well." Rashelle is all this while upto her antics that make me wonder about innocence. "Where is your father Rashelle?" asks Michelle. "Papa has gone to the market."
I did not know how to react.
Nor could I ask her anything more. Michelle did not study beyond 10th standard. And going by her species' choice of money-earning, it seemed the obvious choice for her to get into flesh trade. Now, she is labelled forever as the 'chinky'. I can not think, at all, what would Rashelle do or react when she grows up. It is clear that Michelle does not want her to get into this; she should be educated and be self-dependent is what I could gather. I want to meet the kid again, I have not seen a cuter kid in a long time. I taught her to do hi5, play akkad-bakkad and we had our share of laughs and all that. "Sexy guy," is what she says when she dances to SHakira's songs.
I was at a loss of words for... a lot of things.
Michelle reminded me of the encounter with Tillotama.
(To be continued)
Amnesty International started posting satellite images on the Internet of villages in Sudan's conflict-ravaged Darfur on Wednesday in a bid to pressure Khartoum to allow U.N. peacekeepers into the region.
The rights group invited people around the world to log on to www.eyesondarfur.org, which will be updated regularly with new photographs, and help it monitor 12 vulnerable villages and put Khartoum on notice that these areas are being watched closely for signs of any further violence.
It also includes archived images that include some from the village of Donkey Dereis, which is shown in 2004 with hundreds of huts, but two years later had 1,171 homes gone and the landscape overgrown with vegetation.
More than 200,000 people have died and 2 million been driven from home since the conflict in western Sudan between ethnic African rebels and the government, backed by the Arab Janjaweed militia, began in 2003. Khartoum says 9,000 have died and rejects accusations of genocide.
Catch the full story over here
Feathers fly as screaming peacocks die
Some residents called it parade time. A group of preening peacocks would strut up the middle of Harbourne Avenue, drawing admiring stares and bringing traffic to a halt. Half an hour later, the birds would saunter back to their home in Paignton zoo.
But not on Tuesday. To the horror of many local people, the concern of animal activists and the despair of zookeepers, seven male peacocks were culled by the zoo after one neighbour complained that the spectacular birds were a noisy nuisance.
The Devon zoo argued that it had no choice after the neighbour took his fight to the local council and threatened legal action, claiming the peacocks, which make themselves noticed at this time of year with a piercing screech, were ruining his sleep and causing havoc in his garden.
Although 100 of the birds have roamed free in the zoo's grounds and the adjoining streets for the last 80 years, seven males which had developed a particular fondness for nearby Harbourne Avenue were put down on Monday.
Residents queued up to express their concern. Derek Gresham, who lives on Harbourne Avenue, said: "What are they going to do when someone complains about the lions? You can hear them roar in the quiet of the night. Or when someone moans about the monkeys, which do jabber at feeding time? Will they have to kill them as well?"
Gresham said he and his neighbours stopped what they were doing and watched when the "peacock parade" went past. " It's one of the joys of living here."
Susan Legassick, who also lives in Harbourne Avenue, said: "The zoo is supposed to be protecting the animals, not killing them. They would come into my garden and I would give them sunflower seeds and bread. They are such beautiful creatures. I'm horrified at what as happened."
Colin Bath, curator of birds at the zoo, was also deeply upset, not least because one of the birds culled, Arnie (named after Arnold Schwarzenegger), used to spend a lot of time beneath his office window. "He did make a row. But I would never have wished him harm."
Bath said he had to deal with a lot of confused female birds, which could not understand where the males had gone. The birds only called out for five or six weeks at this time of year to attract hens and remained quiet for the rest of the time.Catch the full story over here.
MOONSTRUCK: This is preposterous man!
I came across an ideology recently, while going through one of my old ISKCON books. It suddenly dawned on me that a couple of my stories are missing. Jenny, in a proper diary form, happened much later. Prior to that, any piece of paper would end up being scribbled upon. So as I frantically looked for those pieces of my heart, written during acid trips and likewise (one of them was written just after I had it with Beth on the desert; wonder what trip I was on that after one of the most amazing sessions, there was a pen in my hand) , the eyes fell on this neat packet of books tucked in a corner. Ah! The glorious days knocked softly on my head again. Amidst this collection, shyly placed was one of those I had bought but could never really read it, or could not comprehend what it said. So last night, it was time to do the needful.
Man takes birth in stages. There is a gradual evolution of the human soul as he is first conceived from the cell. The first is that of the animal — the uncivilised, raucous body — that behaves like an ill mannered, unhygienic soul. This has got nothing to do with love for animals for if we notice those dwelling in slums, it is true. I once spent three days in a slum and was uncomfortable from morning to night. They live in that place as if it is heaven and don't wish to improve themselves. The one who desire, end up in the second stage - the suppressed, hard working man. All his life he toils, blood and sweat literally (think of the usual autowallah) to earn his daily bread and butter. At the end of it, he gets to be the one always pressed under a system he is mostly oblivious of. (I am trying to talk concisely; every sentence follows my read between the lines and more than one meaning styles. So pay attention.) Then comes a transition, when the man makes a leap. His constant motivation is the drive to move ahead in life and rise above circumstances, come what may. The book says that here, it must not be confused with the seeker. This stage might see the soul committing crimes, going into directions that will leave the society and those he harms, directly or indirectly, disgraced. The best reaction that he would give will be nonchalance. For he is doing his job, what takes him higher while feeding his family. The mortal is not granted intelligence.
Ergo, when he moves on to the next level, there are more woes and worries than joyous moments. The reason, as the scholar puts it, is that he has been sent in the new avatar with intellect, power of the brain. This is called the Seeker, that bears a slight resemblance to the Hermit in tarots. The human has the power to shake the world, for it is now he understands balance, power, pros and cons. It is this stage where the recognition of the emotional self occurs making a better person day by day. He seeks knowledge and respects the term 'human'. He discovers that every karma has a consequence that he must face and the Almighty has indeed granted him the courage to do so. Every word has a meaning, so choose your words carefully. And so and so forth.
There, my mind stopped and went in flashback. I recollected a certain guru who once told my mother that Kirit, come what may, will never be stagnant. He is a soul on run, the one who only looks out for new avenues of learning. There will be a time when he would be in a state of confusion to the extent that he will shut himself from the world. If you want him to go right, he'll go left. One of his biggest strengths and problems is the habit of argument and the disgust for mediocrity. For he argues the correct thing and he would always seek a higher pedestal each time he climbs a new one, it would be all the more tough for him.
In between, I was practicing my tarot routine when a new card came out - The breakthrough. And gradually, it all fell in place. Now I am just another scattered soul trying to rebuild my strengths one by one. Enough is enough; it does not matter whether I'm successful or not because that is not me. I have never done things keeping the objective in mind. Whether it were the fights, my adventures, writings, craving of work, none of it was determined by the goal. The past tells me that I have been everything that I wished to be before 25, well almost. And the species don't share even half of it. I am pleased.
So lostlittlegirrl, Sassy, I shall raise a new toast, this time to the coming years that will see a new period of the good times. I don't know if it would exactly be the breakthrough but moonstruck is in for his third rebirth. Want to join? You are always welcome. Rum and chocolates!!!