Whatever...............

The dance of the spider is as normal as masturbation of urine or stool or spit. It is as normal like lighting a match stick to light a cigarette. But to theorize it in abnormal detail, perfection is not normal. No one will be able to randomize a wavy observation to perfection. It is the beauty. I will not try to model-ize the action of Eliza or the action of light over a crazy place or the fast turning of shoes to rocks. I will rather tell stories and try to make someone believe that my story telling or my story is not absolute. You can take cheats from it and create whatever you want to make out of it. Just like I won’t  try to advertise alcohol making or drinking but abstractly make someone believe(might be a lose term) that alcohol is there to be drunk like food is there to be eaten just like she is there to be loved. Just like the drums are there to be beaten or time is there as a joker taking hilarious risk to prove immortality. Just like a he-she is there like a he or a she just like an egg is there to be beaten to a fry. Just like Wangchuk is there to promote education(elementary) just like Chanu is there not to be taken over by something called politics just like Mamata is there non-intellectually to break a thirty odd year old reign just like Konarak is there to arouse petty questions of stagnancy. Now if you stop to think who started a process called something you are taking the entire load on your shoulders. Newton is still explaining the falling of an apple by simple observation and simple theory. Just like Ashoke is trying to explain it hardily to unify all of us. Yashraj or  some Anuseh is trying to sing that song every morning. Aranofsky is there to shoot arbitrarily.Why? When? What? Are pretty baseless stuffs.

Just like an infinite world is there in my bed or between me and the computer screen. Just like a point is there on the black board  to represent a person if looked upon from a distance. Just like my pink transparent bottle looks pinky on the wall just like my body on the wall appears black. Just like the banging of table or tin drums are there as powerful-ly as the strumming of a classical tune out of a sitar. Just like the Rattle snake is there to caution a living being in some other form or shape.  We are not here to be under or over perfect or to be looked upon as under or over privileged or be under or over nutrition-ed or over or under educated. We are just here. Perhaps to spread existence. Spread love or war whatever you might call it. I would like to believe it as love. You might not. Just like a violin player mocks a poet or a poet mocks a capitalist. You might mock me and call me crazy mad psycho. Wake up Rip Wake up Vankle wake up Winkle.

Today in the toilet I was smoking and the spider clapped her hands. She is making her incomplete effort to spread the bread who am I to stop her. The smile of the child at the park where I was sipping the sun’s light also made me smile who I to stop her am. They are making their efforts to spread that thing collecting all their sweat all their pain all their rain all their thunder all their food who am I to stop them.......