Zaza: On the day of Halloween a bumpkin bumped into a pumpkin and he pumped a lot of air into it. His skin was akin to that of pumpkin’s as he wore it as a cap on his head. Prepossession about possession, a disposition to loathe the position hitherto held, anomalous anomie, encomiastic mien. Encumbrance, remembrance, trance. Mink, sable, chinchilla, cincinnati hullabaloo, bugaboo, bugbear, fear, endearing star.
Logos: Some people say things because they need to be said. Some others say them for the sake of saying and then there are some others.
Zaza: Editing and omission exercises. The problem with dissimulation is that you’ve to be hyperconscious to delete all traces and to cover all the tracks which becomes evident at the very first glance. No such problems exist when you’re flowing, in harmony, in congruence with the Logos.
Logos: Frowsy bas relief, a paradox to emboss.
Zaza: The grandpa had a very shining white light body as the boy talked to him and sat before him. He kept appreciating his glorious light body and their communion made it clear to him that the departed was happy with him, with his son and with the state of affairs in general. There was a guava tree and there were big fruits on it and everybody partook from it. When the boy told grandma about the dream in which he saw light body of grandpa it made her very happy. But then the boy woke up once again to realize that it was another dream-inside-dream recurrence.
Logos: Palpate the palpitations. Officious officials, wheedling wheedles, mythical myrmidons. A seemly seamstress had sewn two ruffles as a kerfuffle broke out at her doorsteps. She opened the door to see what the fuss was about, but she could only hear a distant shout, it was the lout with a pout who had stolen a trout from the neighbor. They had such a labor that all favor was lost in the frost and it was already dark. The seamstress latched her door for there was work to be done some more; the music from her machine was a lullaby for a passerby. By and by she finished all her work and then a quirk hit her heavy head. She wore everything red and went to the top floor as she was sad, she was in such a frenzy and with no sight of a cure. Her glass dropped on the ground and shattered into pieces and she shouted the name of the lout. Running came three dogs and started howling at her. One of them was a cur and purr of her favorite cat woke her up from her dream. She was in her bed, palpitating with lots of sweat.
The Jilted Lover
How many times was he spurned? He could count it on fingers. No, he could count it on the knuckles of a single finger, no, it was precisely thrice because he never approached anyone before these occasions. Once would have been enough. Why did it happen? Nobody likes to be humiliated and he certainly didn’t belong to the category of masochistic psychopaths. Then why did he serve his heart on a platter and saw the platter as well as heart being thrown out–every single time? He felt it was a self-discovery. Twin-flames, soulmates and whatnot. He must have misunderstood all she said as he approached her and told her about his feelings. Then again he misunderstood her and then again only to confirm that he had indeed misunderstood her–just to be sure-he let himself to be served on a platter. Apart from these three instances he clearly maintained a safe distance from fair sex. But who doesn’t want be loved by that special someone? It makes you feel so special and gives meaning to life. Existential thinkers feel there is no meaning inherent in the existence and it’s our choices which make our existence look meaningful as we look back in the retrospect.
What did his choices tell about his psychological profile. It told him about those things which his usual meditation and self-discovery could never have revealed–not in a lifetime. Your rivals, friends, foes and relations define the frequency range in which you exist and thrive. Not really thrive in the strict sense of the word but learn and grow. How ignominious it seems to be importunate. We beg for food, sustenance, clothing and shelter but to beg for love seems odd. The almighty gives everything to those who ask for it and work for it but sometimes you don’t get things you work for. Karma works in mysterious ways. He was under the impression that he didn’t approach a person when it was most crucial for their flowering and it pinched him–his memories. That became the cause or driving force to break his reserve and reach out to the new interests and though previous limitations of existential nature were still in operation–he thought–what is bad in learning a lesson. And he learnt lessons. What did they tell him about himself that he didn’t already know? Mystery, insights, intrigue, attraction, repulsion, wisdom, originality, sensitivity and what else? Despair, darkness, alienation, lack and yearning to belong. Conflicting emotions rule people and drive them mad. He had closely observed them and found that they wanted, like other people whom he didn’t care to observe, many things. He didn’t want many things because he had made peace with his destiny. He was a simple man but the people who entered in his life were all complex people and they wanted too many things and that created problems for him and of course made it difficult for them to be related for long. He considered them his own aspects and it taught him many lessons about the ways in which desire manifests in humans.
Logos: A lummox was flummoxed by an unconventional piece of art in a mart. The part he played in the creation of something larger than life was to be the wife of the artist. Humdinger hum, humdrum humbug, bugs bunny, bugbear, bearded bachelor, lores chores ores pores. A dish of blandishment served on a platter which didn’t flatter the receptionist. A scabrous macabre sortie sorting things randomly scatter. There are some people who make sense some of the times, there are some others who make sense most of the times and then there are people who make nonsense most of the times-then do you think it’s people who make sense or time who makes nonsense and sense all of the times?
Zaza: Time does as he pleases. A bluffmaster went to a bluff on a picnic but since his valence was nil he had to refill all his bottles on his own. A scribe was proscribed from scribbling anything salubrious about his sable which lived in a stable. A thematic anathema was following Anna annually. She wanted to recover from it gradually. She met a wisenheimer, and a stumblebum in a hall. Then she heard a rawcus call. Her bonhomie made it look like a home and she had brought with her a tome. They all played crosswords and swords were kept aside. The sable was able to sing a dirge as its urge for survival had a dark tint and its stint with scribe was coming to a close. It started taking a higher dose of prose and sesquipedalian peddlar kept selling goods. Neo-noir, bete noire, recognizable repository, tapestry of tapes, story of orgiastic origami.
Logos: A bas relief gave no relief to a changeling who had no change and played rock, paper scissor near a ling. His muscular atrophy didn’t let him win a trophy but taxia did take him into an ataraxia temporarily as his klutzy best bud was doing scabrous cabre chanting abra-ca-dabra.
Zaza: What is a stand-alone premise master?
Logos: It stands alone in a premise, it plays dice and skates on ice. It’s nice but twice as wise as a surplus of surplice. It cries, fries, tries and dies. It stands alone in a bazar, in a jar, with a scar, in a car, without a yaar. It stands alone with a leg tied to a peg and it keeps dragging along its song. Lulloo was lulled by a lullaby by and by as his lit a lofty lantern in the tavern. Lettered logomachy took over the loitering laggards and they disappeared into the basement. A dark ugly gargoyle had a fascinating white argyle on it as it sprinkled droplets into the lawn.
Zaza: She eagerly awaited for his cryptic messages but then she laughed at her impatience thinking that he had to practice yoga, attend a day job, cook for himself and others, drink, smoke, loiter, play cards, smoke again, loiter a little more, curse himself, chip his nails, color them, read fiction, write and then create puzzles for her to decipher. She laughed and laughed at his busy schedule. He had to find time for entertaining her–what a pity! She thought it was better to find some different means of entertainment than to trouble poor soul soiled by his sultry schedule. Was productivity an evidence, master?
Logos: Yes and no. Everything was an evidence and nothing was evidence. The question was–who was looking for it and to which end. Those who knew it knew it and those who didn’t didn’t. Rakish Rakesh almost tumbled as wariness had caused weariness and his skin had become sere. He wanted serenity and drank a lukewarm cup of water.
Clue: they had forgotten to delete their signatures from Da Vinci Code. Why did they put their fingerprints all over the place? Why then did they take pain of deleting them? Did they feel indignant or ignominious when covering their tracks? Nobody knows it for sure. Mera kuchh saamaan…
Zaza: A virago was sitting on a farrago and as asuras had a caesura she skedaddled as skydaddy called her to a party and she faced a sartorial dilemma as there were too many dapper guests and she couldn’t find one which made her look elegant. Inveigh inveigle, frugal franklin, crackle clinker. spelunker lunette nettlesome mettle, meteoric shower, hovering like a gadfly. Prolix probity, rose in a boutonniere near a fudge fledgling fulcrum, a dud a goon, a ragamuffin a peon.
Dear master, why do people imagine enemies?
Logos: Because they must imagine something. Sweep the rug under the feet and what remains? Delusions help them while their time away. They keep chasing hollow goals. It’s difficult to maintain friendship: nods, smiles, regular features repeated day-after-day. To have enemies is to have unpaid entertainment and they exhibit great creativity–keeping you on your toes all the times. People who have neither enemies nor friends are enlightened people and I don’t see any enlightened people around. So I see people who imagine enemies–near and far, weak and strong, with great varieties. People are like those teenagers who can’t handle rush of adrenaline and keep showing their puffed-up biceps in every nook and cranny to take offense at every cough and spit.
Zaza: A sybarite and a troglodyte were both on a diet. They broke their fast as the Moon shone in the sky and then sybarite asked troglodyte: do we keep our fast for deities or for the Moon? Troglodyte first laughed mysteriously and then said: all festivals are to feed Moon. Moon is the face of the absolute as much as Sun or you. But Moon needs sustenance and it’s Dharma of organisms which are made of Sun and Moon essences to provide the required food to the youngest member of this solar system. All deities-incarnated here with various planetary essences to maintain the harmony of the solar system. Worship one deity or the other doesn’t really matter. People here worship Moon and Sun in one form or other and those who know Self see it in Sun, Moon and everyone else.
Logos: Who was the master?
Zaza: Yes, who was the master.
Logos: The poor chap picks it up–every single time!
Zaza: Yes, the poor chap. Then they said-let’s talk about periods.
Logos: Yes what about them?
Zaza: This word has a great scope for being misunderstood as it’s used for menstrual cycles more frequently than for anything else. As soon as I used word whisper in a sentence the students started whispering about the product. I feel menstrual cycles in women follow Moon’s transits through signs and it was confirmed when I discussed it with one of my friends in college days. The problem with a human birth is that certain things have always been taboo and our scientific as well as technological advancement hasn’t made them free for intellectual discussion. People don’t want to discuss about death, sex, birth process or pregnancy. It’s all dirty.
They know that their elders hushed them about them when they were very young so they pass the same onto their young and then they do the same when next generation comes. They think that not talking about death might keep it at bay or not talking about sex might make it more sacred or enjoyable or might make them free from its pangs. Death is not only a reality but also an eye-opener and all mystics point to it everyday because it’s only true window for enlightenment. Without death there is no renewal and no light. If death and sex were not such a taboo and people discussed them openly–they would have found them uninteresting or equivalent to most other things–mundane and boring very soon. But being forbidden they keep alluring or detesting almost all people.
The death is abhorred because of pain. The pain made it a taboo and sex was made a taboo because of the pleasure it gives. Being accustomed to existential horror of pain the wretched human immediately goes into denial as he can’t imagine to deserve the pleasure so guilt overtakes him as soon as subject of sex is brought for the discussion. There are certain things which have been given an aura of sacredness and kept in a safe vault but the actual reason for their not being discussed is shame and fear they bring to the surface of consciousness. If there was no need of clothing to protect people from natural vicissitudes there wouldn’t have been a great curiosity. Just look at the tribal people–they might be curious about members of other tribes but as far as their own tribes are concerned they’re done exploring the bodies. Sometimes I feel it’s extensive repression which results in such highly proliferating business, diseases and religious indoctrination–for no man is a simple man in the natural state. There are so many masks we wear.
There are good as well as bad periods. Time is not grasped unless you imagine periods. Periods are lectures in schools whereas periods in colleges are lectures. A period is a duration as well as a brief stop in a sentence such as this, or longer; or full stop, full period. Happiness as well as unhappiness is a state bound by a period. Every motion, celestial bodies and processes follow a period of time in this dimension.
Logos: He got his just deserts when he was deserted in a desert where no desserts were available for his hungry hangar.