The Truth behind the Rhyme

Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.

Jack fell down and broke his crown,
On pushing, Jill couldn't control her laughter.

Corrosion

I was born here over 20 years ago. Unlike you, I don't mind if you step on my toes, for that's what I've inferred the purpose of my life on a railway platform to be.

Despite having my feet literally firmly grounded, I've seen more humans, their humanity & its complements - indifference, deceit & cruelty - than you ever could have.

...Wait! Don't think it's another philosophical drivel only 'cuz I choose to speak through Ketan's blog! How many weighing machines' life-stories you've heard?

I used to like kids standing on my feet. Their big eyes would further widen when I'd make faces - my blinking lights & rotating disks - they'd chuckle, not bothered by their weight at all! They loved me - their entertainer. But now kids find my antics silly :( Why won't they? Having seen smart cards & ATMs, the idea of feeding me a coin & see me come to life no longer excites them.

But not just kids, even grown ups have changed. In those days, they were not bothered by the printed number. Except if too big, they would call themselves "healthy", smile & get down happy. But later on, no number could satisfy them. Most wanted it to be much smaller. They always left dejected.

Somehow I'd always wished that everyone be happy, & none be sad 'cuz of me. So I started showing 5% less weight. Some people got happy, but not others. So I started reducing 10%. This made many happy. They started praising me, wishfully calling me truthful, but that's not what I was! I longed to be known as nice! It was ironical that weight I showed wasn't accurate, yet I wanted the praise to be!

Once, I overheard a doctor explain something about BMI & how overweight people suffered more from heart attack & stroke. He also said obesity was an epidemic & was killing Indians at younger age. I was shocked! I wanted to mend my ways. But having got used to people's praise, I couldn't regain the courage to be truthful. I still showed reduced weight.

Then one day, a mechanical mechanic failing to understand I also had feelings, reported that my spring wasn't yielding enough 'cuz of corrosion & I must be taken away for showing wrong weight. Like all non-humans that die at the end of autobiographical school-essays, I too wanted to. But his boss reminded him of profits, & how his promotion hinged on it. I now understood the true purpose of my life.

Partly inspired by Insignia's post (click)

Vacillation

"His large eyes are just like mine. You can't doubt he's got all his cuteness genes from me! You're jealous!" He teased her trying to keep his voice straight suppressing a chuckle.

"Oh yeah, and who's he got his cute lips from?" She asked sharply, knowing it was only his provocation and yet falling for it.

"Alright, to be fair, his 5% cutitude does come from you. His runny nose is your genetic gift?" He could no longer suppress the grin as his hand covered it, but the mischief still overflowed from his eyes.

"Ranjit!" She rolled up the newspaper and hit it on his head.

"Domestic violence! Stooop!" He shouted. "So now you want me to get physical, huh!" He puffed up in mock anger.

The blow was harder than intended. "Sorry..."

"What sorry! You remember, the last time we'd got physical this way, we ended up getting so wild, I'd to call my office telling them Diarrhea God was preventing me from attending? Too bad, boss has turned atheist as far as Diarrhea God is concerned."

"Ranjit! Stop!" She blushed and laughed. "You're funniest. And the cuuuutest. 100% of his cuteness comes from you! Happy?"

"Hey no, it's unfair. I was just joking. I want a fight, not compliment. Just like the last time, I wanna get physical! I'm feeling horn..."

"Shh... I can't fight you. That's your punishment for being sooo adorable." She placed a finger on his lip as she kissed him on the cheek...

She felt the same warmth in her cheeks today that she had 13 years ago. She smiled as she looked at young Ronit's large eyes peering from the photo in her hand and remembered their mock fight.

She wondered how strange memories were. She had never imagined she could muster enough courage to revisit them after their divorce. But here she was, revisiting those very memories, and yet they filled her with a glow. She wondered if Ranjit still remembered her. If he still looked at the old photos and smiled.

She decided the question was redundant. Memories were shared, but happiness was hers alone. After all, he was the one who had abandoned her. Happiness borrowed from memories was no less real, she realized today.

With fears now dissolved, she decided not to warn Ronit of pains of love. She smiled looking at his silly grin, lost in his own fantasies, and wondered how to ask him about his first crush who caused that grin, as he turned 14 today.

Yes, love was worth it. She decided as she shut the photo album.

A divorce... that could not last.

They had been married ever since they could remember--more than 20 years now. They did not even remember if it was out of love, or was it arranged. They were so young, it was called an infant marriage! It was thaaaat long.

They always viewed things from different perspectives, yet somehow always managed to focus on where their views overlapped.

Wherever one went, the other had to go. They even woke up together. And no doubt, slept together. But, sleeping together never brought any excitement. :( They had grown sick of the other. Totally sick.

You go your way. I'll go mine.

[Angrily, without a thought] As you wish. And don't you dare follow me. Huh!

So for the first time ever, they went their own separate ways and darted in opposite directions. But they felt intensely dizzy (click). They could not stand it, they had to unite. They realized, their fate to stay together was sealed, not by something flimsy as love, but PPRF!

<--*-->

Okay sorry folks for this crap, which I am sure even medicos would find crappy!

It is on simple eyes that mammals possess. Meaning, they always manage to look at the same object of focus, but from different angles. Yet, the brain fuses the two images into one. PPRF is one of centers involved in controlling horizontal eye movements.

Eyes show many types of involuntary and voluntary movements for proper functioning.

Saccades are jerky movements generated mainly in response to changes in visual field (what the brain 'sees'), e.g., a moving target or sudden appearance of something new in the field--a fly falling in your soup! ;) They bring the 'pursued' object just about to the center of visual focus.

Smooth pursuit movements perform the same function as saccades, but are better coordinated, with constant adjustments in direction and velocity of eye movements based on feedback from muscles moving the eyes as well as the images formed by the retinae.

The fast phase of a nystagmus is brain's attempt to keep eyes still with regard to axis of the head when eyes get 'distracted' (the slow phase of nystagmus), say following head movement, saccades or sudden pursuit movements. So nystagmus could be normal, but occurs whenever eyes try to simultaneously look at different things! ;)

Yay, I got rich! :) Virtually :(

Read the notice, above? Now don't think my resolve is weak. Except for bank balance, my nothing is weak, get it? Oh okay, maybe other balances also--mental, emotional, spiritual, se... oh no, let's not get there, please?

But what happened totally warrants blogging.

I'd turned fairly cynical, not believing in the goodness of mankind or the existence of God, but just as the header above says, life had ways of telling me I was wrong--this time through email. But, the stubborn me kept on deleting all those mails. You see, I paid for it, or rather, did not get paid! :(

Those Burkinabès from Burkina Faso, the kindest souls to exist (yess, essouls exist!), had been sending me money, with God only knows how many zeros (couldn't count them). And all I thought was "Puny humans! Think I'm a fool?"

But on getting a mail, which wasn't from Burkina Faso, I instantly knew it was a God send! So what if the sender had 'harm' in its ID? Trust (Vishwas) is all that's required. O:-)

***

From: ATM AWARD CARD
ATM CARD payment center
Mon 14 Sep 2009 00:06 IST

A sum of (700,000 thousand
USD) have been credited to your
E-mail
Address by ATM CARD payment
center Congrats...Confirm this
receipt by
contacting Mr Victor Harmfield.
+2348072237106 on
rev.victorharmfield1@yahoo.com.hk

NAME:
BIRTH DATE:
AGE:
SEX (ENTERING FREQUENCY ONLY INCREASES RISK OF DISQUALIFICATION):
MARITIAL STATUS:
HOME ADDRESS:
OCCUPATION:
POSITION:
OFFICE:
TEL:
MOBILE:
DECLARATION: I ________, hereby declare that the
information given above
is correct to the best of my
knowledge.
--
The message was scanned
for viruses and
dangerous content added by
OpenProtect (www.openprotect.com), and is
believed to be cleansing.

***

I'd promptly sent my details including bank account's (otherwise how does anyone transfer money, huh?). Knowing money attracts money, to ensure they sent heaps of it, I deposited 20 k more rupees. But my balance hasn't increased a single cent, yet :(

Readers might think, my outlook is too 'negative' but now I think it was just an 'electron'ic mail, after all :(

Moral of the story: God/God's email account do not existElectrons are negatively charged :(

PS: Was is it you, Vishwas?

Sequel to My Post 'Do I deserve pink chaddis?'--Guest post by Sioneve

This is actually a guest post by Sioneve. We had a small blanter (blog+banter) here (click)

She had promised to do a small story on how my conversation with my kids would turn out if one of them ended up like the girl in my post--'Do I deserve pink chaddis?' (click).

So well, here goes the imaginary conversation:

-----*-----

Ketan speaking to SON about Pink Chaddis, over breakfast…the expected converstaion:

Son: [sing-song voice] Good morning dad! What a lovely day! Do you like the new outfit I designed in fashion school?? Isn’t it FABULOUS. It is supposed to capture the freshness of Spring – you see the side vents gape to allow fresh air to get in and circulate around inside my clothes and also freshen up my chaddis at the same time!! No pools of sweat building up!! And the chaddis have to be pink because I think that is the freshest colour in Spring!!

K: [thinks: AAAAARRRGGGHHH!!] Hmmmm. Son, as I havwe said many times, I respect your fashion design capabilities greatly. However, I think that if you go out dressed like that, people may not respect you and I would be very sad if you lost respect.

Son: Oh Dad! Don’t be so square! I am an ARTIST! I do not care WHAT people think. All artists are avante garde! We have to be because we are at the cutting edge! We decide what happens, BEFORE it happens! Get hip Dad!

K: No Son – realy – I care about you very deeply and am trying to give you my best advice. It is painful to be laughed at! Plus I have seen fashion designers like Giorgio Armani – he always dresses respectfully in navy shirts and slacks – you never see his chaddis sticking out like yours – pools of sweat or not!!

Son: But Dad – all my friends dress like this! Its who we are! Armani is SO yesterday! We are the voice of tomorrow!

K: Okay. I have tried to reason with you but you will not listen. So I have no choice but to tell you to march right back into your room and reconsider your dressing choices! While you live under my roof, you follow some codes of decorum!

Son: Awww DAD!!! It’s not fair!! [Pouts and marches off to room. Slams door].

-----

NOW…This is how such a thing should be handled…(purely facetious)…

Son: [sing-song voice] Good morning dad! What a lovely day! Do you like the new outfit I designed in fashion school?? Isn’t it FABULOUS. It is supposed to capture the freshness of Spring – you see the side vents gape to allow fresh air to get in and circulate around inside my clothes and also freshen up my chaddis at the same time!! No pools of sweat building up!! And the chaddis have to be pink because I think that is the freshest colour in Spring!!

K: [thinks, if you can't beat them, then join them and beat them at their own game!!!] What a DIVINE outfit (high pitched squeal). I was just thinking son, we don’t do enough things together! I would like to join you in your fashion….may I borrow one of your outfits and we can go out together!!

Son: [thinks, ARRRRGGGHHHH!!] Oh, Dad no! I was thinking that you look so elegant in your Armani suit! Why change a classic??

K: No, seriously – because I want to hang out with you and be cool and properly aerated!!

Son: Okay Dad! You are right! We should do more together! Why don’t I wear my Armani suit and join YOU!!

K: Oh son…you would do that for me?? Isn’t it asking too much for you to give up your FABULOUS fashion??

Son: No! No! I want to make a new fashion statement – conservative is back!!!

K: [smiles sweetly!]

-----*-----

Thanks, Sioneve a lot! This was truly a lovely post! Thanks for giving me such premature tips on parenting! I'll follow them as soon as I suffer from ventriculomegaly, or broadmindedness, in other words! Or till, I have a son, whichever is later!

Disclaimer to my SON wherever he be: See, it's only my decorum that's keeping me from stating the obvious truth here that I won't be half as broadminded as portrayed in even the first version of our conversation! Say hello! to Sioneve auntie! Okay, now if you want such ventilatory chaddis, just see how broadminded I am (click)!

Bad timing

He finished reading it. Seventh time today. Her first love letter.

"Could so much love ever vanish! She'll understand, if I talk."

"Anjali, please understand! We'd fought before also. But we always made up! Why not today? I love you, Anjali!"

She didn't reply. Those suspended in air, hanging by rope about their neck, don't.


----------

Explanation:

(To be read only after meditating 'deeply' upon the profundity of above piece, and thinking of all the plot-related possibilities)

The protagonist reads his lover's first love letter umpteen times. He realizes the depth of love they'd shared, and how talking things out could help.

He tries to convince his lover to not be miffed and try to resolve the dispute amicably. But actually, all he's talking to is her dead body as she'd committed suicide by hanging and, he's still in denial about it--not ready to believe 'all was over'.

Educational post

Smart Kid: Please gimme first rank this time at least!

Smart God: I can't. Others are also asking for the same thing!

SK: That's unfair! I come just second everytime. :(

SG: Calculate area under the curve of what everyone gets in their lives against time, and you'll know, I'm very fair.

SK: I don't know anything! You can give me first rank this time, and third the next.

SG: No one teaches me how to run the Universe, okay?

SK: [Hoonn; turns away from God, a la--'Tu tu, main main']. I'm gonna stop believing in you. I'm turning atheist.

SG: [Hoonn] Shoo! Go away! I don't care. I'm turning a Deist God. [Yawns with boredom]

Meanwhile, later at a school function...

"This year's first prize for scoring the highest marks in class 4 goes to SK!"

Behind the scenes...

[SG frantically fidgets with buttons of a remote]

"Gosh! SK's getting that prize and these darned buttons! They'd to stop functioning just now! [Sigh] I should've stuck with the regular remote with warranty, not this cheap Chinese-made thing! Just wait you cheaters, I'll teach you a lesson!"

[SG's stubby angry finger lands on the Tsunami button directing the remote at China]

Hurricane Hillary hits the East coast of the U.S.!

SG: [Sigh]

------------

Moral of the story: Of course people, you know it! Buy only good-quality electronic gadgets with warranty, bill and an ISI mark^*!

Above advertisement issued in Public Interest by the Government of Idiotia

*ISI mark--'Seal of trust' put by the Bureau of Indian Standards on products tested by them.

Love is blind. And can't count!

...[Pluck] loves me not!
Arggh...Third time now. I must've missed a petal.

Arman, you fool! Look at yourself. Which birdbrain chick's ever gonna harm her eyes laying them on you?

Shh...

You can't silence your inner voice!



Arman: Hey Riya! I was just thinking about...

Riya: Will you marry me, Arman?

----------

PS: Am just experimenting with scheduling of posts only to see if original comments are retained or not. This post was originally published in May, 2009.

Democracy!

Rohit's voice boomed, "You're so arrogant to believe you didn't require a creator to be created?"

Manoj responded--amidst boo's.

But when he was heard, it was with disinterest.

Rohit'd won the debate competition.

Manoj wasn't disappointed because he'd lost, but because he wasn't heard.

Rohit winked. "Now you know why I say I believe?"

Conflict of realizations

"It makes you cry so much? You'd loved so much!" Distant gaze. Contented smile. "I feel so happy! So fulfilled!"


"Quiet, Mukesh!"


"I find fulfillment in your loss? And you're my dearest! I'm so cruel no, Mridula?"

His eye let go of that reluctant tear. Like his body was to let go of that life...

Atlas' bugged... keep it short!

Gail Waynand stared at his own reflection, and the hand that held gun against his forehead. His own hand.

He wanted to live on... to try deserving Dominique more than Roark.

He was afraid of death. He pulled the trigger.

[Click]

"Inefficient buggers! Can't produce guns that don't jam."

"Keating! Don't..."

[Dhishkaon]

Who's John Galt?

Star-struck

Shilpi: Gimme your English notebook. Quick! Couldn't do my homework. How much time's there?
Alka: Five min!
Shilpi: My God!

Ten min later...

Shilpi: Phew! Just completed!
Alka: [Thinking] What shabby handwriting! You get 'FAIR'. I get three stars. Wow!

Teacher [Gasping]: Sorry, got late. We'll directly begin our lesson. No homework-correction for today!

-----
Thanks Rajat for inputs!

Dog's death...animal lovers will approve

This is my first attempt at 55 fiction. To briefly see the conditions of 55 Fiction, see the side panel.

-----
Monologue:

Don't you stare, Moti.
It's not my fault. You made me mad. You resisted.
You didn't have to whine like dog that you anyway are [sobs]...Were.
This knife was not to scrape your heart; just cut your leg...only one for today. But you resisted.

Hey mom, up there? Happy? Rajesh Motilal Patil...orphaned?

------
*Moti is a name commonly given to pet dogs in India.

*In some parts of India, people use thier complete name, like First name Father's name Surname.