Two women and a Eunuch

This is the heartland. This is where the heart lies. Ganga gushes by as Jahnavi and Mandakini and Deva Ganga. She sure is disdainful at times despite that ancient churning and humiliation in the unending gridlocks of the ultimate masculine. Ganga would have happily been in heaven, had not Indra played his nasty trick with Sagara's sons. But then, this lady purifies our land, and her father himavan protects us. This is the heartland, this is where Ganga flows.

I keep getting these strange images in the middle of the day. I see two women in distress, pale bloodless faces, hope purged eyes. The first one drags herself through fields of unclaimed corpses, slain warriors, decaying limbs, souls chained to purgatory till eternity. The fallen are her sons who went in search of the meaning of death ,for churning out the potion of life. She searches in vain for a drop of the potion, she argues in vain for vengeance, she cries in pain when her priced foetus is cut in seven inside her womb with a thunderbolt. She is the mother.

The other woman, the ravishing one, is always in a state of suspended surprise. She remembers a man dressed up like her celibate husband, she remembers him entering every pore in her body like a thunderbolt and she, trying in vain to convince herself that she was doing no wrong. She remembers her husband cursing the thunderbolt into a piteous eunuch and condemning her to a moss-filled existence. She is the wife.

I see the man emerging from Diti's vagina and Ahalya's body. Vishwamitra says he is the arch-toppler of dynasties and as powerful as Gods. He is the smasher of enclosures, the impeller of streams, the agitator of the waters. The Gods call him their king, Indra, the King of Gods. Vishwamitra says, with my new weapons like Pratihaaratara and Dundunaabha I am more powerful than the Gods themselves. If Indra was anywhere around, I would have definitely killed him.

The men and the sage rescue Ahalya from her moss-filled existence. They continue their journey to Mithila where destiny, and its child awaits them.

Killing of an Enchantress

This is Dandakaranya, the dark dark forest. A daily ingest of bala and atibala kept us alive through this tiresome journey through Angadesha and Kaamashrama. The sage population is pushing south by the day, they have spread across the plains and now into these southern forests. Fights and skirmishes between the forest dwellers and the sages happen everyday ; the sages have weapons, Vishwamitra himself is a sage warrior. The northerm kings like Janaka and my father aids the sages, the Pulastya king Ravana I have heard secretly helps the forest dwellers. The forest is dark and dangerous , feels like the air is impregnated with a war ,waiting to be born.

I was surprised at first when Vishwamitra asked us to trumpet the bows in the middle of the night. Tataka, a haughty middle-aged women came shouting at us from the top of the hill we were climbing. She was very annoyed at the disturbance, still she was beautiful.

"Kill her", the sage shouted "do not get mesmerized by her beauty, she is an enchantress, a yakshi and she instigates these forest people against us"

"Oh great sage" I asked "I am here to preserve dharma as you and father had said, isnt it against my dharma to kill a women and it sure is against my heart to kill such a beautiful thing"

"Your father has left me in charge of you both" Vishwamitra said "my word is the dharma, now teach her a lesson"

Tataka, the enchantress sensing danger charged at me with rage. I was terrified and accidentally released the arrow which pierced the space between her full, rounded breasts and killed her instantly. The forest suddenly became beautiful , it was as though Tataka hived in herself the entire beauty of her land , which she was releasing now forever. I felt a vacuum in my stomach , I crouched there wailing.

The sage says she was evil and he says this all the time. He was very happy that I killed her and gave me and Laxmana some powerful weapons and deadly arrows. I have started admiring the sheer power of these weapons, it makes me feel all powerful and the sage promised us more if we continue the good work. At times, I feel the sage was right, Tataka must have been evil and I did the right thing by killing her. But still, she was a beautiful enchantress.

The boys went on to kill Subahu and decimate Mareecha at Vishwamitra's ashram. The journey to the heart of darkness had begun.

the boys leave Ayodhya

This tranquil flow is the Sarayu river and the turbulence behind me is Ayodhya. We the princes of the Sun dynasty dissolve in these cold waters of Sarayu at the end of our lifes , in ashen forms. Sarayu carries the ashes into the holy Ganga and from there ,like every drop we find our ocean. Khatvanga who begot Dirghabahu;Dirghabahu who begot Raghu ;Raghu who begot Aja ;Aja who begot Dasaratha ; then me and my three brothers, all have ended or will end in this mighty flow. Sarayu is the destiny of Raghuvamshis.

Vishwamitra, the angry sage wants me to fight against the demons disrupting his holy rituals. I am twelve years old but father wants me to go. He had begged the sage with tears in his eyes but Vishwamitra insists on my going. I am afraid, I dont know what demons are but father has to keep his word,his dharma. I am setting out on this journey with Laxmana and the sage, I am terrified ,I want to stay back in Ayodhya. Did Rishyasringa curse the dynasties at the end point of his innocence , did he feed the flames of Ashwamedha with his own tears.

The two boys with quivers and bows follow the Sage Vishwamitra to keep their father's word and the warriors dharma. They would never be twelve year old boys anymore.

The End

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
Ill never look into your eyes...again

Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...strangers hand
In a...desperate land

Lost in a roman...wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain, yeah

Theres danger on the edge of town
Ride the kings highway, baby
Weird scenes inside the gold mine
Ride the highway west, baby

Ride the snake, ride the snake
To the lake, the ancient lake, baby
The snake is long, seven miles
Ride the snake...hes old, and his skin is cold

The west is the best
The west is the best
Get here, and well do the rest

The blue bus is callin us
The blue bus is callin us
Driver, where you taken us

The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived, and...then he
Paid a visit to his brother, and then he
He walked on down the hall, and
And he came to a door...and he looked inside
Father, yes son, I want to kill you
Mother...i want to...fuck you

Cmon baby, take a chance with us
Cmon baby, take a chance with us
Cmon baby, take a chance with us
And meet me at the back of the blue bus
Doin a blue rock
On a blue bus
Doin a blue rock
Cmon, yeah

Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

It hurts to set you free
But youll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die

This is the end


Suggested read : Joseph Conrad - Heart of Darkness

Suggested rythm : The End - Doors - Jim Morrison

Its a tag

Neermathalam has tagged me. He's promised to give his sexy username to me if i do this tag - not that I'll use it - I'll preserve it for posterity. Jus kiddin dude :)

Well the tag is simple -eight things I like or dislike abt moiself. Oh thats tough !!

and here I go blah blah black sheep have you any wool......

I like me - sometimes I like me so much that I wish senate passes that human-cloning bill. Its just that I get a bit too comfy with myself.

I'm non-venomous - I do have disagreements and sure make fun of people but it comes by nature to me that I dont get personal and I dont answer personal criticism. Its just that I dont hit below the belt.

I'm not a revolutionary - I'm not out here to prove anything though I like anarchy a lot and comment a lot on the life I see ,though my comments are not intended to change it. Its just that I come out of Watterson's Calvin and Laxman's Common man.

I'm highly brainwashable - I'll fall at your feet and accept your holiness if you have a point,often contradicting my stand till then - me the arch turncoat. Its just that I have the lightest mind in town after all this washing.

I'm a timid extrovert - I'm pretty jolly but do keep some secrets, but then I've lost a few battles. Its just that some of my best friends dont know my name.

I'm superstitious - I think there is a Distilled Gogilba galaxy with a Dondalavan subsytem and all the gandharvas and pirates and supermen and elephant head gods live in it. Its just that I think communism is still our best bet.

I'm vague - I live in a esoteric hell with metaphors for words and a stinking commitment-o- phobia for their meanings - I'm repulsive to intimacy,oh the same place Dante warned you about; and some say I respect their personal space and some others say I'm a sonofabitch. Its just that I'm a poor pisces man.

I'm sorry - I dont keep in touch with people I adore, God !,only you know how bad I feel about that , but then I'm a lazy cocoonist. Its just that my friends forgive me and thats why I adore them.

thats about it and faster than I thought :)

and about tagging others - this blog has a total of six readers who come and go. Four of them dont have blogs, one that has a blog has an altogether different format and I'll surely ask the last one standing to take this up.

Suggested read : Your feudal Lord - my autobiography (out of print)

Suggested rythm : Kashmir - Led Zeppelin (this song is killing me)

Bright Future In Sales

Sleeping on a planter at the Port Authority
Waiting for my bus to come
Seven scotch-and-sodas at the office party
Now I don't remember where I'm from

I think I had a black wallet
In my back pocket
With a bus ticket
And a picture of my baby inside
And if I make it home alive

I'm gonna get my shit together
'Cause I can't live like this forever
You know I've come too far
And I don't want to fail
I got a new computer
And a birght future in sales
Yeah, yeah
A bright future in sales
Yeah, yeah

Heading for the airport on a misty morning
Gonna catch a flight to Baltimore
Try to kill an hour with a whiskey sour
If there's time I might have just one more

I gotta do some quick reading
For the big meeting
But my head is spinning
And I can't quite open my eyes
As long as I don't have to drive

I'm gonna get my shit together
'Cause I can't live like this forever
You know I've come too far
And I don't want to fail
I got a new computer
And a bright future in sales
Yeah, yeah
A bright future in sales
Yeah, yeah

I had a line on a brand new account
But now I can't semm to find
Where I wrote that number down
I try to focus, I'm staring at the screen
Pretending like I know
What all these little flashing lights mean

I gotta do some quick reading
For the big meeting
But my head is spinning
And I can't quite open my eyes

I gotta get my shit together
'Cause I can't live like this forever
You know I've come too far
And I don't want to fail
I got a new computer
And a bright future in sales
Yeah, yeah
A bright future in sales
Yeah, yeah

Suggested read : Fountains of Wayne,lyrics

Suggested rythm : Fountains of Wayne - Bright Future In Sales

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Suggested read : Dylan Thomas

Suggested rythm : Easily - RHCP