Saturday, October 29, 2011

If possible refrain explosion. But if it travels beyond tolerance and limit

If possible refrain explosion. But if it travels beyond tolerance and limit



Jalsa , Mumbai    Oct  29/30,  2011        Sat/Sun  12 : 28 AM
 If possible refrain explosion. But if it travels beyond tolerance and limit, explode and explode full in intensity ! Do not smoke, smoking is harmful, but if you do then smoke the best. Drink if you must, but if you can afford it drink the finest.
I do not smoke, do not drink, do not eat meat, do not take Indian sweets, no cake, no pastries, no toffees, no paan bahar or paan, no coffee no tea no cola, no ice cream. Nothing religious or health related. Just …
Not testing will power either, nor wanting to prove any point. I just do it and none shall behold the reason for such. Perhaps as I grow older and the memory cells begin to spin out, I may need to put it down somewhere for posterity. I may need to put down a lot for posterity, though I am not certain if I shall – many of the experiences which to me seem indifferent and uninteresting, are enjoyed by others. I could consider doing things for others, but there may be reservations in that too. But why should it be disclosed. Why the reasons behind all that is unknown. Why ??
I suppose many coerce me to put it all down officially. A book, an autobiography. Hah !! That would be such an audacity on my part. I love the reading of others tales, their lives and how they lived it. To even suggest that others would have similar interest in mine would quite obviously be a great travesty of my modesty. Or would you rather state it as ‘immodesty’. They both sound equally, as though they know what I am meant to mean. I make comedy of my expressions ! There is hidden mirth in there. A desire to be smart and in possession of a seemingly intelligent action ! Ho Ho Ho !! Laughter overcomes my intellect. Really ? Intellect did I say ? Whoever said that or thought it so, must be one deprived of any sensibility ! But sensibilities seldom attack writers of the dis eminence of ‘yours truly’. Ah !! well ! we shall await final judgement on that perhaps later after the responses fly in. Do justice to it, please .. I implore !!

I am but smitten with the intellect of those that profess they have none. I am beholden to those that come across me and give me more than I can ever educate myself with. I am but a name that became of importance on the results of another’s making. My own is of limitations. I portray that, which others believe should be portrayed, in a manner which they discover and invent. I never manufacture, never invent. I follow invention. My craft has been tutored to follow, and follow to the best of ability. That is it !
I write and speak yes, but of what I believe and feel. It is not historic or of any value. I speak officially to a mass, but not with intent of speaking, but to perform. To perform a duty, or at most an obligation. But if that shall be taken as literature, or aesthetic writing, then they that do so are the foolish of highest orders. They make themselves unaware of fact from fiction. They suppose. I oppose. I desist. They insist !!
But I shall be victorious if there was to be battle. Not because of any personal strength, but because of my insistence to be away from any participation. When you participate, you commit, you open flanks ! That is where all the truth shall prevail. For that is not written for you, enacted for you, deliberated for you. That is that traveller in the lost deserts of the wild and vicious Sahara – without food, shelter, water or shade and no oasis …
Accolades come and go. That is their nature. But accusations persist once they begin. Accusations have a life larger and better groomed than accolades. Accusations are flowery in word and at times in deed, if correct. They bring the varied colors of the ill will and unsubstantiated falsehood. They have the ability to be meatier and perhaps of better taste. They live longer, add tributaries to themselves without asking. They seemingly flow with the rush of the stream that claims to be of some distinct purity. They shine and shower themselves with the cleanliness of time.
Truth, if ever spoken or deposited, would be insipid and uneventful. Tasteless and morose, without any reflective glory of showmanship. It would be it and that is it ! Dull quiet and almost soundless ! The cacophony of the untruth is so wild and full of decibels that these gentle little tinkles of the bell will hardly ever be heard. Which is why truth sits silent. Almost in despair, but most valid and secure in appearance.
I will not justify. I will not cringe on the untruth. But I shall set fire to it within and I shall hope that its flames overwhelm me, pour out above innocent countenance and be seen as a burning flame in its blue flamboyant glow, even in the hours of the dark …
Those that dare to come within it shall duly burn and be vanquished … those that do not, shall ever enjoy the glow from distance. It shall be as pretty as ever. Burning yes, but not inviting in its beauty, but almost threat like spread invitation to come closer and learn that the glowing beauty has the requisite qualities to commit you to ashes … forever !!

Amitabh Bachchan

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