THE UNKNOWN ERRORS OF OUR LIVES
The unknown errors of our lives- bugs entwined within the dendron-dendrites of our nervous system, subtle. Nevertheless they thread together many puzzles, anecdotes, coloring the canvas of our humane existence. Frame work of livelihood shaped by banal social mumblings, starched parental commandments and family heirloom! The lessons through the educational escalator bring the smells and tastes of ideology. Beliefs germinate. Thoughts undergo mitosis-meiosis- catalyzed by nucleus borrowed from the learned. The reflections of life on the canvas high above, dotted with puffs of cloud; the shimmering waters of the bays dissolving the myriad emotions. Stories, flashes, happenings of our existence get documented somewhere in the vast expanse of this biosphere. Some metamorphose into legends- like a butterfly, wooing us with the splashes of life on its wings! But like countless scratches on a battered wooden desk in kindergarten, the stories of our ‘lub-dupp’ (the heart beat…) gets documented routinely in the infinite scrap book of humankind.
And those unknown errors? Like the game of ‘odd-man-out’ poses a challenge to our intelligence. Over the rumblings of time, the overlap pings of feelings and inferences, we try to touch the jugular! It’s like feeling through a crate of mangoes in the early summers for the ripe one! The slight smell, the soft-to-touch and the golden tinge over the green skins- our sense and sensibilities! The jumbled pile of books, varied shapes and size, from which we try to pull out the errors… the unknown errors that have become intrinsic to our collections. We have turned the pages but the indelible black scribbles, like little slaves of misery, refuse to yield from the whites of our gabardine. As they say- errors have no classification!
We give up trying to shoo off the errata, as the egotist within line up logical and emotional wordplay in the courtrooms deep inside the sanctum of our hearts. The vibrations of emotional upheaval, high and low, trying to assuage the pride hurt by those unknown follies.
But these accidental happenings, short stories of misplaced happiness, never really fade off. For some they generate strength- to strive, to seek and not to yield! For others, melancholy shrouds the senses or delirium sets in, grief. Despair, a sense of loss, a bazooka of questions fired within. The unknown errors of our lives and we can’t feign innocence! Interesting, funny in the way the symbiosis of life hit against individuals and rub of opposite emotions! Love, hatred; revenge, mercy; trust, suspicion; bliss…or just a void. Pain is like an endless matrix program- devastatingly kaleidoscopic! Pain is beautiful, like the way they coalesce, like soap bubbles in foam, to paint a picture. There is always a story, sometimes a fairy tale, sometimes of a selfish giant but still motions of life come alive even in the misdoings of us!
And in time, those haphazard piles of books, those shameful pages in our records, those broken lines on the kindergarten desks, all of them become a part of us! The individual that we are! Untouched by the high waves of educational mayhem, far from the demands and obligations of social contracts (relations!), we discover the story of our life! No longer do we try to shun the misgivings; no longer do we try to question the trappings of life- no longer do we measure out emotions.
Those stories remind me of cloudy monsoon skies, rumblings afar, a chill in the air and the celestial mist cleansing the blessed lands. They transport me into foggy winters with dew drenched environs, as if my pains have been shared by the natures around! I am not alone. My story, the unknown errors of my life intrinsic to me, made me come alive. With the bundle of questions, the disheveled emotions and misdirected blames I have scribbled my existence! And they cease to be errors anymore. They aren’t unknown to me! In them I see the subtle realities of life, the clashes of existence and the hara-kiri of human lives pitted against each other, where it’s always a lone battle!
And now when the alphabets would arrange itself, like a constellation of stars, they would just tell the story of me. The unknown errors of my life would be lost, like big bang explosions a million light years away… but just like the lights from those dying stars, they would continue to hold hands and create the halo of my existence!
And those unknown errors? Like the game of ‘odd-man-out’ poses a challenge to our intelligence. Over the rumblings of time, the overlap pings of feelings and inferences, we try to touch the jugular! It’s like feeling through a crate of mangoes in the early summers for the ripe one! The slight smell, the soft-to-touch and the golden tinge over the green skins- our sense and sensibilities! The jumbled pile of books, varied shapes and size, from which we try to pull out the errors… the unknown errors that have become intrinsic to our collections. We have turned the pages but the indelible black scribbles, like little slaves of misery, refuse to yield from the whites of our gabardine. As they say- errors have no classification!
We give up trying to shoo off the errata, as the egotist within line up logical and emotional wordplay in the courtrooms deep inside the sanctum of our hearts. The vibrations of emotional upheaval, high and low, trying to assuage the pride hurt by those unknown follies.
But these accidental happenings, short stories of misplaced happiness, never really fade off. For some they generate strength- to strive, to seek and not to yield! For others, melancholy shrouds the senses or delirium sets in, grief. Despair, a sense of loss, a bazooka of questions fired within. The unknown errors of our lives and we can’t feign innocence! Interesting, funny in the way the symbiosis of life hit against individuals and rub of opposite emotions! Love, hatred; revenge, mercy; trust, suspicion; bliss…or just a void. Pain is like an endless matrix program- devastatingly kaleidoscopic! Pain is beautiful, like the way they coalesce, like soap bubbles in foam, to paint a picture. There is always a story, sometimes a fairy tale, sometimes of a selfish giant but still motions of life come alive even in the misdoings of us!
And in time, those haphazard piles of books, those shameful pages in our records, those broken lines on the kindergarten desks, all of them become a part of us! The individual that we are! Untouched by the high waves of educational mayhem, far from the demands and obligations of social contracts (relations!), we discover the story of our life! No longer do we try to shun the misgivings; no longer do we try to question the trappings of life- no longer do we measure out emotions.
Those stories remind me of cloudy monsoon skies, rumblings afar, a chill in the air and the celestial mist cleansing the blessed lands. They transport me into foggy winters with dew drenched environs, as if my pains have been shared by the natures around! I am not alone. My story, the unknown errors of my life intrinsic to me, made me come alive. With the bundle of questions, the disheveled emotions and misdirected blames I have scribbled my existence! And they cease to be errors anymore. They aren’t unknown to me! In them I see the subtle realities of life, the clashes of existence and the hara-kiri of human lives pitted against each other, where it’s always a lone battle!
And now when the alphabets would arrange itself, like a constellation of stars, they would just tell the story of me. The unknown errors of my life would be lost, like big bang explosions a million light years away… but just like the lights from those dying stars, they would continue to hold hands and create the halo of my existence!
posted by der Bergwind @ 7:29 PM
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