Our Hero : Temptations

Our hero, a 5 year old boy is fair

Has seen apples fall without interest

Has also noticed the blur at high speed

With equal indifference

Has even heard his father talk about theory of relativity

And at this age, with all this baggage, he finds himself overburdened. So our hero, who will be 6 in some time, decides to concentrate on chocolates. Chocolates, his uncle, his favourite uncle, says are the darkest temptation since Cleopatra. Our hero has heard of her a number of times, always in the same context. Cleopatra, according to our hero, is the darkest temptation after chocolates. He had also heard of Octavius Caesar from somewhere, but couldn’t remember the name as it was too long. He remembered what chocolates were called though. They could be eaten, one could allude as a justification, but for a five year old let us assume no justifications are needed. And then he did remember what context the name, Octavius Caesar was mentioned in. It was at a cafe when his uncle was having a mix of dark chocolate with some flavour of coffee and mentioned how chocolate was almost killed by the strong coffee just like Octavius Caesar had tried to kill Cleopatra. It was one of the instances when our hero heard of the name, Cleopatra, one more time. He went back to his pastry, which had some flavour of chocolate. And now according to our hero, a strong coffee is the strongest thing after Octavius Caesar and also according to him strong things kill temptations. But one thing he’s confused about, how then, strong temptations don’t kill themselves!

Trignometry

The book i read today had a couple left.one page was promising and ones destiny held. so i skipped them both and went to the cover, where opinions lay bare loud and sold. a best seller, i was told. And those pages, well those pages,
they were my doing. For I hadn't liked the preceding ones. Who wrote them i wonder and also wish. I wish I went for the cover in the first place, for I make myself believe it's the cover that sold. Habits that die hard are not necessarily old.

Limerick kid

He was a kid then, not all of his friends were markedly so. Some of them were touching their adolescence and were clearly not in control of all the hormones, but he was a kid and was enjoying it as much as a parodying parrot enjoys parodying without realizing the meaning of it.

So one day this kid develops an urge to recite a poem to a girl he had developed a liking for some time back without realizing why he liked her. And as you’d know it happens with a lot of us and a lot amongst those to whom it happens, it also happens that they are so comfortable with the confusion that to save their relationships they produce kids and live for them. Anyway, as I continue let me mention that he did notice, though, that till some time back his feelings towards girls were no different than they were towards anyone. But now they were. If an adult were to describe it, he’d say now they appeared attractive and the same adult would also add, in an attempt to make things clear, that by ‘they’ he meant those girls and by ‘those girls’ he meant the ones who appeared attractive now. Anyway, now this kid wants to recite a poem to one such girl or, may be, she wasn’t just one such girl and that is why he wanted to recite a poem to her.

Twinkle they do

Why them stars

If you have to too

You’ll need energy bars



And he wrote these first four lines of verse, looked at them smugly, put the pen down as there were no computers then, so he put his pen down, as there were no computers then, oh I think , I have said that before, so he put his pen down, now this is for the sake of maintaining continuity, and he continued to look at it for some time, smugly, smiling and visualising her without realizing that what he was doing was actually an act of visualizing; he hadn’t yet heard the word. He thought she’d be impressed, that’s what he wanted to do and he wanted to impress her with smartness, which we adults would describe as childlike childishness. And then as a natural act of consulting others in matters of utmost importance, as it comes to most humans naturally, given our tendency to be safe than sorry and in some cases very or in even fewer and more important instances extremely sorry, he decided to show it to his father, who could be seen not being there in the room presently. So the kid decides to go the room where his father could be seen and heard,

“What have you been up to?” he asked as the kid approached him.

“I have been writing a poem” the kid replied

“Poems, gentlemen, the kid is writing poems” his father announced in some sort of a mocked imitation of a pink Floyd song.

‘ok, show me your poem’ he continued

He read it and exclaimed,

‘Ha!, such bad nonsense, it’s even worse than what I had written once as I had for once aspired to be a poet, hope you don’t intend to become a poet. At least live up to your name Limerick!” his father continued.

He, the kid, in the meanwhile, started wondering if his name might in some situations lead to a vulgar implication if either of his parents, later on, once he became a poet and started writing Limericks by any chance, boasted ‘Limerick does limericks’. But then he dropped the thought right away as someone had told him once that if you don’t drop thoughts soon enough, you are in the danger of becoming a philosopher and a philosopher is not something that anyone wants to become.

So, anyway, it was the first time his father had talked to him about becoming anything. Earlier whenever he’d even remotely allude to becoming something in life, his father would always chide him into believing that it was not his age to start thinking about becoming something. Last such instance was some months back.

You take my pen

I take yours

If caught

We’ll say, ahem!

That is how his father’s first poem had gone, we know it because he had just recited it to his son, who looked at his father in admiration for his spontaneity, who in turn looked at his son again, aghast; again; and now his father could safely assume that not only was he a bad poet but was also bad at recognizing bad poems. And he did.

‘Wow’ he said and now it was his father’s turn to look at him. Aghast , he looked and gave up and told him to go back to his room. In the meanwhile somehow we’d find his mother there in his room, reading up some other pieces he had written,

What have been up to? She asks

I have been writing poems, he responds

‘Ah, poems gentlemen, the kid is writing poems’, she announced in some sort of a mocked imitation of a pink Floyd song.

And the kid suddenly got a feeling of déjà vu, but soon he realized it was his father making that statement earlier, so he concluded that it was not déjà vu.

‘Let me read it’ she said and extended her hand, which returned to her with the piece of paper her son had written the poem on. it doesn’t matter how it got there. Let’s assume he gave it to her.

‘hmmmm, hmmmmm, twinkle, hmmmm, stars, hmmmmm....energy...bars’ she finished and looked at her son, with a blank face, then lovingly and then proceeded to kiss her forehead and added,

“I always knew you’d be creative, did you show it to your dad, I am sure he’d be proud of it. We were so right in naming you Limerick, limerick.”

‘Yeah I did, but he didn’t really say anything, he seemed to be writing something’ he said without ever looking up at her.

‘I am sure he is at his poetry again, how many times I need to tell him he’s not good with it’ she remarked and kissed her son again.

Reginald on someone's marriage

He who a titled smile once lay on the face of
she who tired limbs once rested with
were tied today in a knot of nots
and the clock struck some number

for

he who once those hands were looked at by
and she who once those very hands belonged to
were moreover and forever decided upon by destiny
for a fickle fate's indulgence

since

he who once that fate had resulted for
in misery and strife
and she who that very fate had picked
as the chosen prey for a prayer he said

ever since
the prayer had turned him a preyer
and her a self-proclaimed victim

so, forever, since then
the tussle has been going on,
and to muscle the tussle further
they were tied today in a knot of nots