Friday, July 1, 2011

Crows,stock market folks,man with a machine,the train and a retrospective non sense called life

It is the end of yet another busy day for those crows. They all look tired, but are still active. They are the ones who are really involved in the serious business of life. Busier and serious than many of those stock market folks who are in the middle of some heated conversation on the other side of this railway station..Both share the same space. One group stands on the platform and discusses the virtual aspects of living. The other group keeps themselves down, in between the rails, live that real ‘thing ‘or no ‘thing’ called life. They both meet here daily but fail to recognize each other. How strange this thing called life is! Another person who is bored, just because he has a machine with him tries to connect those scenes and create some sense but fails miserably. Neither those crows nor those men know about this man who tries to get rid of his boredom with a machine that can underline all the spelling errors he keeps on making with somewhat serrated redlines. It is a wonderful machine. But this man is stupid. He is trying to make sense by trying to convert the most sensible thing called life into some symbolic representation of the same. Suddenly the train in which the man sits starts moving. Everything is broken shaken and taken away. The scene vanishes into nothing. He tries to remember the scene and wants to complete the non sense. But it is already gone and will never come back again. The crows who were full of life, the stock market folks who believed they were fighting for a life, the lifeless railway platform, that man who was neither dead nor living but bored, the thoughts that lived only in his brain, that machine which converted living thoughts in to non living group of letters called words, the whole essence called life and the retrospective non sense it creates about itself, is gone. Now what remains is the movement of this train and memories inside a brain. Suddenly the train starts to run inside and through the rails to a railway station where it is yet another busy day for the crows. They are the ones……

2 comments:

V Rakesh said...

And, we are the ones too, MIP, almost always in the same manner!

manoranjini said...

:-)