The Secret of Wordscapes...

There are no lies. Everything exists somewhere. Know that every breath you take changes the world around you. Every word skews it. You are the maker of the world around you. You are the wordsmith that shapes it.

Imagine. A chance encounter with a stranger. Eyes meet and the scape starts. You speak and with every word, you start weaving a new pattern. Truth or lie has little to do with this game where the beauty of what you weave defines how real it is. Bold strokes and subtle tugs bring out an incredible texture to the interaction. The dance goes on as both of you create a whole new scape of possibilities, your own private universe.

Stop. What rot! How can you just make a mere conversation seem like something magical? It's just another day and just another person. What difference does any of it make? Who even remembers chance encounters like these? Who even bothers talking to strangers unless you want something out of them?

Shush! Watch what bitter little creatures fly forth from your lips, birthed in your vitriolic cynicism. Deformed, grinning imps that scurry forth to do mischief; bringing more misery and chaos to a world that has already had enough. You have the choice of picking your angel to carry every word you speak. Let it be a gentle creature full of hope and joy and not a dark brooding form rising from the depths of hell.

Now that li'l internal dialogue has been wrapped up, let's move on with the scape. Weaving scapes; the art of creating or modifying reality using words; is a talent that does not come easily to most of us. Most of us are limited by reality, as we perceive it. Obsessed with the implications of our perception and how absolute we deem it, we are crippled by the belief that this is all there is. Nothing more is possible.

Close your eyes and make a wish. Put everything you have into that wish. Don't mince any words. Describe your wish to the fullest. Put every ounce of eloquence you have in you into that wish. Let go and pour forth all the passion you can dredge up into that one thought. And then, let it fly. Watch the li'l wordscape come to life. Become the wordscapist!Cogito Ergo Finito

Flutterby...

Somewhere in a far-off exotic land, a butterfly flutters by. Borne on the drafts of a light breeze, it flits at random till it comes across a a slightly persistent current of air. It realises that it is drifting down a path it did not intend taking. Its fluttering becomes persistent and it manages to struggle out of the presumptuous nudging it was being subjected to. But something happens. In its indignant flutterings, it has managed to push the current slightly off-course. A flutter has been created that was about to go a very long way.

Now wind currents tend to be very rowdy. They jostle each other with even more impunity than they would nudge an unsuspecting butterfly. The slightly off-course current of air, fresh from a rather unsettling encounter with a spirited butterfly staggered into one of his pals. A climatic game of dominoes was set in motion with the nudge being passed on as pushes and shoves with dizzy winds careening all over the place. The nudge was going places indeed with staggering off-course currents travelling for hundreds of miles before rocking another fellow current off-course.

Somewhere above bleached white beaches and incredibly blue seas and below a white hot sun, something was brewing in the air. Like the ominous grumble in the ponderous belly of a gourmand post repast, there was a tight restlessness in the air. It was a Mexican standoff between an unnaturally hot day and the hangover from a freezing night. Something was going to give.

Into this tension-loaded atmosphere blunders a drunk li'l current, reeling from a shove that started thousands of miles away. In an instant, instant mayhem was cut loose. Belligerent winds from the land and the sea and the very skies plunged into the fray. It was a free for all and every Johnny Breezer in the neighbourhood worth his whiff came blowing away. Round and round they went, chasing each other's tails. And right then and there, a monster was born!

Little currents and big winds were all drawn together in the tight, crushing embrace of this newborn fury. Bending over itself in the agony of its violent birth, the twister soars to the skies. Alas, it is tied to the earth where it was born. It twists and turns with a passion that becomes dark and destructive. It yanks and pulls at anything holding it down, scooping up water and boats and fish, regardless of volume or size. Dragging its crippled tail across the seas, it staggers on to land. Things, against all expectations, turn a lot worse.

Sheer chaos and destruction breaks loose. The tornado jumps and skips, trying to reach that elusive momentum that will let it escape. But its very form prevents it from doing anything but rip and rent the very fabric of the land it rakes. In an instant, trees are uprooted, buildings razed, ruminating cows displaced over miles and vehicles tossed around in a calvinistic rage. And suddenly, it's over.

Sunlight breaks through the the monster's shadow and dazed mortals stagger over ruins. Life has changed forever for many. And it all started in a day's time, originating with an innocent flutter. A flutterby happened...
Cogito Ergo Finito

It's not easy to be me...

Perspective is everything. Ionesco wrote this play, Rhinoceros. It shows a village of people mutating into rhinos. The first person to mutate is cast out as a freak. Eventually, everyone mutates but one person who remains human. He is then cast out as a freak. Perspective is indeed everything.

I started out as a child who had no opinions. What others told me was the truth for me. That person’s reality was mine. Perspective too was adopted. It is shocking how much rot can be fed to one so impressionable. Anyone and everyone had a piece of advice, with ‘experience’ backing it. And it’s tragic how much of an impression all that makes.

Luckily, identity asserted itself. My experiences and learning saved me from becoming a collection of assorted ‘that’s what they say’ and ‘what will they think’. Some people I met contributed to the crucible of self-purging, the act of becoming.

I went through life trying to adhere to these scathing directives and an internal conscience that was more intellectual than moral. It hasn’t been easy. My significant others unfortunately adhere to a different set of principles. ‘They’ play a big part in the lives of all those I love and care about.

There are times I wake up gasping, feeling like a newborn Neo, helpless and atrophied, cast out from an unnatural, somnolent womb, surrounded by millions of watching eyes. But the Nebuchadnezzar is not waiting to rescue me. And I cannot escape the 100 regenerating Smiths by flying away to Neverland. Redemption is not that simple. It will need the painstaking effort Andy put in at Shawshank, scratching away dirt by the pocketful, behind a blowup of Rita Hayworth, digging his way out at the end of 20 long years.

There have been crucial times in life when I have had to brace myself to take that all-important step that was true to me and no one else. I have faltered, I have tripped, I have chickened out. But I have also persevered. And I have suffered for my insolence. I have been punished for acting on my beliefs. And now, once again, such a decision lies before me; perhaps my biggest yet. This entry is my declaration of intent before that step.
I might be a rhinoceros or a human, but I am no freak; even if that’s what they say. And when I act, what they think is the last thing on my mind. I will be true to the person I am and what I believe in. And there are no conditions therein. As the band Five for Fighting said in their song Superman… ‘It’s not easy to be me.’ But at the end of the day, there’s no one else I’d rather be!
Cogito Ergo Finito