Surface Aberrations #A

Ah Well! How do I put it. 

‘I am a king’ it sounds ridiculous. 

‘We are the Kings’  Magic isn’t it ? 

Probably the first time I am letting out so I thought to put it under a new header. It will be like one of those lodges along a trail so many check in and keep scratching there names here and there. 

Some questions have started to baffle me. Am I asserting too much from what I witness everyday in this world. There is nothing which is not a revenue model. Nothing which is free. Taxes and exams, both are for our own good. But then what’s the Point after all. I breath for myself. Nobody seems to help me do that ? Is there any prerequisite to life ? 

If there is a pursuit then what for ? What is the nature of mind ? Why is it ? Contrasting is an evil art. It blinds us. 

I don’t need to belong to this world. I am here living in it. Nature plays with herself as I become a monotonous being in her hands. It is us who make up all this around us. Isn’t it ?our eyes which project it to our mind. Our tongue grasping flavours. Otherwise what good is sweet if we are not there to call it sweet ? 

Infer the obscurity of life, does the forest make sounds even when you are not there ? 

It is our listening which makes something, our viewing gives it a reality more than its material nature. Our intelligence or Chit (consciousness) which enlightens through the roots ( senses ) that we have driven deep into fabric of this social matrix. 

Even these questions seem aberrations on the surface but they are well more. Languages and words can no more facilitate us at this time of enquiry. This is why we believe in miracles !  


Decay is the only natural law



Never in the sight
Ages passed
Millennial voyages afar
And what for, I ask
Nothingness all that it is.

The Boy Poet

The Poets' Garret The Poets’ Garret

Joining the dots to make the whole
Evasions of truth taking their toll
Reborn a man, a stronger soul
Evolution of self
Mind and body taking control
Yes, a man as himself

©JG Farmer 2015

Form: Burns Stanza –

Prompt: Write a poem where each line starts with a letter from your first name (an Acrostic) Registered & Protected  0JUI-XFCS-ARMP-TGE9

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Languages, Words and Silence. 

In this life melancholy we stand at crossroads at every instant. The key is not be indecisive and keep holding on. 

I begin with putting this first.  

Languages are like historical rivers compounding words unlike. Perennial streams of human consciousness. Sometimes ephemeral word crashings too. 

Function of speech is so intriguingly (hopelessly) tied with words that we set aside ‘the golden silence’ so easily. Reliability of any language or words has its kickbacks. The tongue slips ! Doesn’t it ! 

Silence in courts of justice has its own implications. 

Kate Winslet in ‘The Reader’ and the famous Indian assertion of silence, ‘Kya main is shanti ko aapki haan samjhu’. Meaning ‘Should I take that silence as a yes’. 

  1. Silence does not imply anything in gross form for our pitiful worldly culture to find manifestations therein. It is us who underestimate and misunderstand the underlying intensity and mystic nature of acceptance behind it. 

Fasting through observing silence use to be something ! Now it’s just in the books and the idea of it in our heads. Which we consciously or unconsciously propagate every time there is exploitation. This doesn’t mean that there is not a rebellion. 

Mahatma Gandhi said ‘He who bears any atrocity is a bigger criminal’. He also propagated non Voilence as an indestructible and transcendental weapon. The point I wish to put forward is that without understanding silence we cannot make use of language as a tool and it starts pouring down on us instead. 


Words don’t do justice to our emotions. The very idea of writing and exploring and playing with words implies a futile search for complete expression but Alas! We fail and I fail to make myself understand that we all fail.  

The unanimous progression of our thoughts may well be dragged down and scaled to be in sync with the concept of speech and thereby words but silence is the true language of the soul, it connects seamlessly with the Brahman. A rhythm nature herself cannot break.   

Working with Red 

Working with Red 

Colour the I red 

Red is colour of life 
Jewels of the cities
Tribal body art in clay 
On flags, in forests 
Cultures painted in caves 
Red is intense austerity 
Amalgamation of pursuits 
On canvas of life 
Dreams in sweat 
Breathing fast! never grey 
Close your eyes to the sun; it’s red. 
Red is fire 
An engagement with darkness
Beneath the earth
Colour of the heart 
Colour the I red

Every Now and Then 

We have developed such a bad habit to do things for the sake of doing. It’s a preposterous and futile activity. Here are some things which do no good to us inspite our materialistically genuine endeavours behind doing so. 

Yoga : just do it ! ( more than breathing and postures ) ( Ref: Paramhansa Yogananda)

Eating : Gulp it. ( Ref: My grandfather who would be particular of enjoying and relishing delicacies even after the food was done. Sometimes for weeks. It is funny. Each ingredient is on its own ) 

Bathing : Necessity ( a river dip vs a shower, Forget the argument of  feasibility. Water does have a memory ! ) ( Ref:  Chanakya Niti for a perfect city ) 

Can we sit for sometime and think about everything we have really been working on. Our career, education, social relations and so on.Things either are routine or they are an adventure. What happened to the balanced ‘in between’.  What happened to discipline and mastery ? I wonder. Have they been caught up by negative influence of this perplexing societal mechanism).   I am not talking about bookish discipline here, scale down things I mean everything to individual levels. Are we really doing it justice. ( justice is a big word ! And there are consequences of using it ) 

Dualism is an inevitable thought. Even when Aristotle discussed ‘on the soul’ he presupposed his existing knowledge to be an over dressed thought. He stripped it down and commented upon body-soul being inseparable. Yes it is. I totally agree. In which realm ? I ask. If there are multiple worlds within a Single world, how sure can we be about diktats which may not please the universal being. While during the body- mind complex.  ( I believe that body- mind and body- soul complexes do have a chance of thought. For arguments sake. ) 

But whilst conceiving this, a mind will require certain tools of presupposition. Those are the very characteristics of  individuality of soul. A different realm, varying planes ofconsciousnes. 

Soul is separate in a manner which pleases the body. I will go with Socrates on this now.  Every now and then. 

Van Gogh was not crazy

Van Gogh was not crazy

There are so many things said about distinguished artists. It is sad and maybe ironical that great men have lived not so merry lives. I don’t have an explanation or maybe I don’t want to really dive into it. It will sound like sympathy.
It’s just not about Van Gogh or Galileo for that matter. It’s about the common man.

My OCD Voice

Vincent van Gogh source: Vincent van Gogh

Van Gogh was not crazy. Yes, he most likely had mental health problems, but he was not crazy. He was human.

just like you and me.

It is easy to lose sight of his humanness since we are detached from van Gogh by time, but I promise you he was human.

full of thoughts, fears, friends, emotions, imperfections, and talents…human

Calling van Gogh crazy makes him different from his fellow humans on the basis of his mental health problems. How can he be so different if so many of us struggle with our mental health as well?

my simplistic imitation

If we are going to talk about van Gogh being different from his fellow humans in any way, let it be because of his talent. Let’s make this his defining feature, his ability to take someone’s breath away when they view something his hand created.

And no, his talents are…

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The Absent Staircase

Demon : You fool ! You think you can cross  these waters ? There is no way out. 

Man : Who said about crossing ? I will elevate. 

‘Absent staircase’ is a quest into the unknown. A seeker will be challenged by the very materials he is made of. 
In chapter one of Bhagavad Geeta, Arjun asks Krishna to take him to middle of the battle field so that he could have a look at those with whom he was about to war. 

After Krishna does so, Arjuna finds himself encircled by realisations that his opponents were none other than his own cousins and Great Gurus he learned all the Warcraft from. 

Swami Krishnanada discusses this in his commentaries as an irony every spiritual seeker shall face. In form of his cousins, Arjuna the seeker faces the natural truths that his life was standing upon. Krishna the absolute being later on guides the seeker out of his grievance by shining upon him the light of Meaning with a conviction of truth.  

The desires we have been hopelessly clinging onto will become doubts and thereafter will diminish. There is a turmoil of emotions and emotional churning which awaits us with every step on this absent staircase. 

Calling it absent justifies the neglect of the thousand eyed demon which believes us to be inseparable from the shallow waters of this material world.