Author's Diction~Vipin Behari Goyal: 2016

Monday, October 10, 2016

The Square Root of Two

All real numbers are irrational

Photo: Madwell

All real numbers are irrational
Everything that is real is irrational. I am real that is why I am irrational. We live in the society of hypocrites who live artificial life, and entails be real. I am so sorry; I am not one of you. Love me or hate me, better hate me. I am not worthy of your love. After all, you are part of them-a hypocrite.
I met her first time in the library. Books are my only passion. There was no rationale in her being there. She was beautiful, and not in the ordinary way. She had divine beauty, if you can forgive me for using the word divine. Living with mortals sometime, I may think like them, even though in reality I am immortal.
"Love at first sight" how idiotic and irrational. What could be the rational in falling in love at first sight? Very illogical. When I was fully confident, I decided I am in love.
I was looking at the signboard of genre above Almira of books. It was Philosophy. All the more irrational and hence better. A divine beauty in search of Philosophy. I took the book she had put down. "Marriages and Morals", by Bertrand Russell. I was looking at the book and smiled at her. She was offended. Offended girls look more beautiful. I bowed to her. She ignored.
So once again, I find myself in love. Nothing is more irrational than love. Even life which I have always been so severely condemned may have some meaning, as the Buddha and of his like claim, but love, no they never said it has some meaning. The buddha said "unfathomably deep, deep like a fish course in water is the character of women". Can there be more degrading than this. If you say this about the woman you cannot say anything about falling in love with a woman who has no character.
Yes, saying that the character of a woman is like a fish course in deep water is like saying they have no character at all, and to fall in love with them would be a mere foolishness. No rational man would ever do it.
Moreover, you say love is blind. It means it makes you blind, and how something that causes blindness could be a rational, and an affected person who goes blind would become irrational.
Love has no criterion of beauty and ugly, rich or poor, old and young, it is so irrational a thing that people are ready to accept any nonsense in the name of love.
I loved this irrationality about love, there are not any limits, with whom, where, why, how many times, there are no rules.
Being irrational man, I fell in love many times.
This girl in the library I fell in love with is somewhere on my long list, since I have forgotten the count.
Not only love, but also marriage is irrational. Human is polygamous by nature. By marriage people create a family and pass on their fortune to them, thus rich becomes richer and a poor, poorer. At least there are laws about marriage, but love has no law to be subject to. The society is more irrational than any individual is.
I have a great condemnation of society in my heart. Society has good reason to be irrational, but nature has no reason to be irrational.
Society can permit your falling in love many times, though it cancels your driving license if you break traffic rules even few times. Nevertheless, how do you justify producing billions of sperms just to fertilize an egg. That is simply stupid. What a sheer wastage of life force. No theory of probability can justify it.
However, I always take advantage of probability theory while proposing a girl. Every fifth girl has always accepted my proposal. This one was fifth. Let us see.
The girl walked up to me.
"Can you suggest me a good book on existentialism" Her eyes were like a lake I would love to swim. Though I don't know swimming. May be I will be drowned and died. Will she come over to funeral?
Sure, I would have embraced her, at any other place. Time is essence. The time between my decision to propose and making a proposal is sometimes in a nanosecond.
"Read Notes, from underground by Dostoevsky".
Is it in this library?
It was. I have stolen it. I was prepared to speak the truth. Why truth? I asked many wise people. They are confused. I think the truth is irrational. It has created more chaos than harmony. Suppose all husbands start speaking the truth about their extramarital affairs, how much hurt and agony they would create. All offenders if speak truth, there will be no place in jails. A lie saves so many lives. I propagate lie.
"No, this library has modest taste in philosophy. If you want I can lend you one".
"Come to my house, it's not far."
It was my fifth proposal in last one week. I propose only on weekdays. I enjoy my weekends.
She agreed.
We were walking.
I looked at her.
"Suits you"
"Everything is excessive" I looked at her bosom.
She was red.
"What's your name" She distracted.
She looked at me and said" Tower of Victory"
"Would you climb?"
She was red again.

 All girls are equally fool or wise. Make a yardstick or parameter as to what a girl of a particular age should know. Suppose a girl of eighteen should know literature, movies, driving, dress up, make up, music, cooking, stitching, embroidery, mopping, swapping etc. Besides being at least average in studies. Apply research methodology of mean, mode and median, all girls will get an equal number. Every beautiful girl knows she is beautiful. Every girl who knows she is not beautiful creates an image of her beautiful self.
So if you appreciate them it always conforms to her view.
The provision of Experimental Error in Research Methodology makes it irrational exercise. Whatever may be the dependent and independent variable of beauty of a girl, if beauty is in the eye of the beholder it makes beauty dependent on extraneous variable. Which will be an experimental error and whatever conclusion you will draw will be erroneous and irrational? To protect results from extraneous variable we do randomization. It is like being irrational to rationalize.
Out of my habit of analyzing the data, I drew curves for events from the first meeting with the girl to break up. Surprisingly, in most of the cases it is a normal curve without any skewness. I always avoid skewness. I do not want to postpone my expression of desire if I like a girl, and once my object achieved or not, if the relationship is dead weight, I get rid of it earliest possible. Most of the time both of us feels relieved by termination of the relationship. I create such circumstances. If we go to have to depart, let us depart as friends with some sweet memories. It's my motto.
Though I am mesokurtic and like the humpedness of the curve. I wish to enjoy my relationship for a reasonable time once it reaches its peak. It is like a bell in the temple. That is my best time in a relationship with a girl.
When we were walking, a car stopped near us. It was Audi and my friend Ravi Shankar was driving. My all friends are poor only Ravi Shankar is rich. Usually I dislike rich people. Rich people are like lepers. They are so obvious. Being rich is their solitary quality. They are very proud of all those things for which they should be ashamed of. Vulgarity is their passion and sarcasm is their wit. For me they are 'untouchable'. Since I have been very popular, they always envied me and searched for an opportunity to make me look down. They never got it.
Ravi was also one of the stereotypes. But he had certain qualities for which I liked him. He behaved differently with me. He sought my advice in his love affairs. His taste in art and culture was slightly more refined.
He asked whether we want a lift. I looked at Urva. The expression on her face was of consent. Ravi took us to my home. I did not request him inside.
I lived in a small house, with a tiny garden in front and two servants who lived in back out houses. They were father and son. Father cooked food for all of us son cleaned house and ran errands. My house was decorated with excellent aesthetic sense. Partly it was the contribution of my all past girlfriends. They always attempted to regulate my life by arranging the things in order of their choice. Some preferred books in drawing room other in the bedroom. I obliged them by permitting to interfere.
The peasants live a rational life. They do physical labor to earn money and fulfill their bodily needs. They do not sell their mind. To sell mind just to quench your physiological need is just one of the most stupid things. Not only you sell your mind, but also the mind becomes a garbage bin by collecting wasteful information, which does not play any role in improving life. On the contrary, mind becomes conditioned and later by the time you realize the wastefulness of life you were living some sage tells you to unlearn and make your mind unconditional. So I do not learn anything which later I will be required to unlearn.
There was silence. We were walking leisurely when I asked
"You know 2+2=5"
"Yes, I do fuzzy math."
"You know the square root of two plus square root of two is equivalent to one."
"Yes, the sum of two irrational numbers could be a rational number. However, why are you asking?"
"Are you irrational?"
"Yes, I am. No girl would go to the house of a boy without knowing anything about him."
"Are we not complimentary to each other?"
"You mean biologically or mentally."
It is still too early for me to decide.
I have made my mind. It is either you or none.
What is the logic?

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©  Vipin Behari Goyal

Excerpt from a forthcoming book

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Wear Your Attitude

No legacy is so rich as honesty ~ William Shakespeare

H. R. Bachchan

Dear Dadu,

Thank you very much for writing us a letter. I read it twice. Second time I read it between the lines. I thought you would pour the wisdom of the world in it. I am overwhelmed by your letter, but, I am disappointed to read it. It seems you have written it as part of a media campaign to boost your image. Frankly speaking, you have used us for your own publicity. Well, this is nothing new. You have been doing it in the past with others.
The letter had no human touch, if you know exactly what I mean. In the beginning, you have mentioned the surnames. Honestly, we are not carried away by that. I have read Madhushala and I appreciate it as one of the best poems. World of intellectuals is different from the world of glamour. Thank you very much for reminding the legacy, but that will not help us in search of identity. It will create hurdles that we have to overcome. Remember, who knows the father of H. R. Bachchan and his father?  The lineage must start afresh from each generation.
I laughed when I read your advice about the skirt. It is very chauvinistic to talk about our clothes. Do you ever talk about male clothing? This of course does not define our character, but tells us a lot about the person who brings it up. Dadu, this is simple common sense. We will wear a bikini in the swimming pool and nightgown while going to sleep. Character is something different. Wonder if you know how it is defined? Let me tell you. When you are ready to sacrifice some immediate pleasure for achieving some remote gain, then you are a person of character.
So far as choosing friends are concerned, I would like you or some elders to advise me. We have been raised in over protected environment, so we are not aware of the evil world. When you are beautiful or rich lot of people, want to take advantage of it. They are clever in the art of deception. It is the duty of elders to save us from them. I won't mind if granny told me to avoid certain friend.
I would have appreciated if you told us about how to handle our failures?  You had had enough of them. What did you learn from your failure? How you struggled to succeed? Who helped to face the crisis? I mean, not what the world knows, but something meaningful that was kept hidden from the world.
One more thing, I don't know whether I should raise this issue. What do you think of the extra marital issue?  I know this is a very sensitive issue and I am not mature enough to talk about it, but one thing is very sure, I respect the fidelity in a relationship.
In the last, I would like to propose you to read the essay of Margaret Atwood "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" and let me know what you think of it.
Love you.

Yours etc.
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©  Vipin Behari Goyal


Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Does a Dog Know That He is A Dog

Does a Dog Know That He is A Dog  

It is not sin to be born as a dog, but it is a sin to be born as a street dog. You don’t realise you are a dog unless you are born as a street dog. Street dog is the real dog. He is ugly and unwashed, hungry and half-dead, barking for no reason and occasionally fights with dogs of other street. Higher breeds of dogs are the alter ego of their masters. Their life as artificial as their masters. They always look at the masters for command and for ‘reward and punishment’. Thanks to Pavlov. However, what Pavlov overlooked the fact that the dog's mind has very limited capacity to associate things with the sense of hearing. He can smell the food from a far distance. He can even read your thoughts of giving him food.

The dog is definitely more apt at handling emotions. He knows how exactly you are feeling. You cannot hide your emotions from him. However, he prefers to ignore your worry and anxiety since he knows them to be baseless. He responds to authoritative commands that's why superior breeds are happy with military officers and hunters. The dog has extraordinary power to detect frequencies. Light, heat and sound all are frequency. He has a powerful sense of smell.
With so many qualities, one may wonder if the dog knows that he is a dog.

This is a Zen question- Does a dog have Buddha nature? If he has Buddha nature, it can attain self realisation. To attain self realisation he must know his present status of being a dog. The morale of the Zen story is a dog does have the potential to become enlightened, but only in the human realm. Therefore, what should a dog do to come in the human realm? You must have seen some dogs always follow sages and monks, or sit around the religious places. The smell of incense causes desire in them to be born as human being and achieve Nirvana. 
Whenever I climb, I am followed by a dog called 'Ego'. Friedrich Nietzsche has compared ego with the dog. The dog is as inseparable from the human psyche as ego. The only difference is a man is governed by his ego, and the dog is governed by his master. Nietzsche climbs high, on the path of enlightenment, where the biggest hurdle is ego. The ego is obstinate like a dog. A dog will climb with the master; he will not wait for the permission. In Hindu mythological story of Mahabharata at the end, a dog followed Pandavas who climbed the Himalayas.
W. B. Yeats has old compared the old age with Dog's tail
What shall I do with this absurdity-
O heart, O troubled heart-this caricature,
Decrepit age that has been tied to me
As to be Dog's tail?

 “Life is life - whether in a cat, or dog or man. There is no difference there between a cat or a man. The idea of difference is a human conception for man's own advantage.” ~Aurobindo. Man thinks himself superior to the dog only because he can abuse the power. If the dogs would have been ruling the world, they may not find the man a trustworthy friend.
Every dog has its day, but every man does not have his day. 
In a novel “Notes from the underground” the girl gave the bourgeois name to her pet dog to show her contempt to bourgeois class. In “Disgrace” by J. M. Coetzee, David the expelled Professor at University visits a slaughterhouse daily to find about a weak, skinny dog who was crippled by one leg. How does it feel to be a dog in this world? Crippled dog was helpless and deprived of any rights or pride. His life is full of shame and disgrace. Death is a solution for such a disgraceful life.

How many legs does a dog have if you call his tail a leg? Four. Saying that a tail is a leg doesn't make it a leg. ~Abraham Lincoln. Any presumption about the dog will fail.
Whenever possible, replace humans with dog. Mark Haddon in his book ''The curious incident of dog at midnight'' says ''Also dogs are faithful and they do not tell lies because they cannot talk."
Dogs understand a man better than man understands the dog. Every dog deserves to live a dog’s life. He must be allowed to live like a dog.
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©  Vipin Behari Goyal

Friday, September 23, 2016

Primitivism in 20th century literature

Primitivism in 20th century literature

Primitivism is a belief in the value of what is simple and unsophisticated, expressed as a philosophy of life or through art or literature.
Simple is described as having few parts or features; not complicated or elaborate, easy to understand, do, or carry out, having or composed of only one thing, element, or part.
Primitivism is an internally coherent set of images and ideas that shape perceptions of the primitive.
Primitive is 1. Of or belonging to the first age, the period or stage; earliest, original.
2. Having the quality or style of that which is early or ancient.
3. Original as opposed to derivative; primary as opposed to secondary.
Benevolence is anti-thesis of intellectualism. Primitiveness helps them in being benevolent without posing as intellectual.

The subjects of "civilization" are trapped in the "primitive" hidden within themselves. Patrick White in his novel “The tree of man” has delineated the poetry and mystery in the lives of the simple farming couple Stan and Amy Parker. They deal with complex situations and the chain of events in an unsophisticated manner. The elements in the form of flood and fire are bravely fought and conquered. The bravery is the natural outcome of simplicity. Those who pretend aggression to scare the people is basically cowards. Simple life is far from any kind of pretension.

The simplicity of true grandeur found in tree transcends in the human being who live their life in the proximity of nature. The act of adultery by Amy, not only once by twice reflects that it is not impulsive but a deliberate act to overcome the boredom or an act of rebellion against a husband who had become unromantic. Their marriage was not a consequence of a decision, but an outcome of a certainty. They had a highly romantic honeymoon.
The writer says “the whole night had become a poem of moonlight…. Flesh is heroic by moonlight. The man took the body of the woman and taught it fearlessness.” Mystery and poetry of real life are revealed in an extraordinary within the ordinary. The Author has rationalized Amy’s act of adultery by concluding “Sometimes her simplicity would blaze electrically.”

Stan also makes a brief encounter with passion when he rescues Madeleine from fire. Flavor of the incident is romantic, but passions are sublimated by conviction and values. Moreover, simple deserves forgiveness. Madeline once admires the crude furniture in the house of Stan for it had reality.
For anything that is grand and simple, even the end is a new beginning. The grandson of Stan wants to write a poem of life, of what he did not know, but knew. So that in the end there were trees.

Eliot as a primitivists talked about inverting the hierarchy of savage and civilised since he spoke from a position that was, "deeper" and "older" than - and uncontaminated by - their culture.

James Clifford stated "primitives were fundamentally all the same, and important primarily as a window onto suppressed aspects of the civilized personality."

Eliot's theories of poetic imagination to his and Woolf's ideas of the importance of "impersonality" and Lawrence’s adaptation of “Psychoanalysis” were an attempt to strike a balance in their dual responsibility towards society as wells on their own-self. Primitivism is the criteria by which the work like “The Wasteland” (Eliot), “The Voyage Out” (Woolf), “The Plumed Serpent”(Lawrence) can be understood.

Do the earliest condition of man society was best? Human race treats the nature as an enemy. The human relationship has been deteriorated by an advancement of technology. Is it possible to return to primitive life we once had? We have come so far from nature, would nature forgive and accepts us?
Should native red-Indians forgive genocide when we are not ready to even apologize for Hiroshima. The harmony has been damaged beyond repair.

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©  Vipin Behari Goyal

Monday, September 19, 2016

Life is picnic

If you were having a picnic in a dream

life is picnic
Margy at Brighton Beach
“I’ll affect you slowly
as if you were having a picnic in a dream.
There will be no ants.
It won’t rain.”
― Richard Brautigan, Loading Mercury With a Pitchfork

Life is picnic. Life is not a picnic. Plan your picnic. Never, ever plan a picnic. The picnic is an escape; the picnic is an ideal way to confront.
All contradictory views about the picnic are true, as they are true about life. The ample supply of delicious food, scenic view, music, dances, games, sparkling beverages and loads of fun with friends and family members, is the basic idea of a good picnic. Excitement reverberates and laughter is exuberant. Messages traverse through the eyes of young couples and they sneak behind the thick trunks of trees or walk in the bushes, without looking back. While elders are having a heated discussion about religion or politics, youth pursues their passion and children play their games, angels wander in the sky to witness the exotic sight of fun and frolics. People remember such picnics for the rest of the life for some perfect moments.
The Devil has his own plan to prove that opposite of truth is not lie but another truth. Anything may happen during the brief spell. A child may slip in a lake while recovering his ball, a couple in the bush may get bitten by a snake, an old man may have a heart stroke, or thunder and rain may ruin the picnic. People for the rest of their lives regret such picnics.
“Be there a picnic for the devil,
an orgy for the satyr,
and a wedding for the bride.”
― Roman Payne, The Basement Trains
A picnic organised by the company or office is no picnic. The hierarchy of office staff is apparent at Picnic Spot. Bosses are on an ego trip and the young recruits laugh at middle executives. A true sycophant would always allow his boss to win the game. It is not a genuine picnic, its mockery of that.
A school picnic is a great fun. Teenagers usually have their first crush during a picnic. Hidden talents of their classmates impress them. A studious girl surprises her classmates as a good singer, a geek turns out to be the best drummer or a notorious drug addict puts his life at risk to save the life of a drowning girl.
Picnic in the school days is a dream comes true. The preparation of picnic is no lesser fun than the picnic itself. There is debate about almost every issue.  The location of picnic is often from the list of popular sites. The girls discuss their attire while boys make plans for adventure sports.
To plan a picnic is like to plan the life. The essential components of a good picnic and a good life are same. The objective is fun, but not everyone achieves it. Some suffer a defeat by the rejection of their proposal to date; others might suffer a quarrel with a friend, or an injury while playing. The worst calamity is an abuse by a perverted teacher.

The word pique-nique is French in origin and was first used by Tony Willis in 1692. Lord Chesterfield introduced it in the English language in 1748. The French described it as a group of people dining in a restaurant who bring their own wine while in the English language; it was associated with card playing, drinking and conversation.
The best description of the picnic is in a Rubaiyat by Omar Khayyam translated by Edward Fitzgerald in 1120 ACE.
A book of verse beneath the bough,
A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness
Ah, wilderness were paradise enow!
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

In Jane Austin’s novel Emma the “Box Hill Picnic”, was an utter failure. Everyone was disappointed for one reason or the other. Emma suffers a grave humiliation when reprimanded by Mr. Knightly for her misbehavior with Miss Bates. The atmosphere is of lassitude. There is a “want of spirits, a want of union, which could not be got over”. Nothing as vulgar as the consumption of food is alluded to, but one assumes it was on offer.
Frank Churchill said to Emma: "Our companions are excessively stupid. What shall we do to rouse them? Any nonsense will serve…" Excessively Stupid needs to be aroused without raising their suspicion.
Picnic like life is a combination of good and ridiculous.

The Telegraph in an article about picnics also makes a reference of Jane Austin days.

“The list of the best "food with a view" sites is part of a drive to encourage people to eat outdoors, as was the fashion in Jane Austen’s day.
Fiona Reynolds, director general of the National Trust, said people are often nervous about the weather or wasps.
But she said picnics can be simple and healthy, and rather fun in the rain.”
“Picnics are something we're well known for in this country, but we don't need to wait for the summer sun to arrive. ” She said.
"Spring is finally here and we have our extra hour's daylight – it's a great time of year to head outdoors and enjoy food with a view.”
"Spending more time outside is also the perfect way to refresh and re-energise both body and mind.”
Virginia Woolf in her novel “To the Lighthouse” describes an unpretentious picnic in a boat within sight of the lighthouse and the novels closing pages. Mr Ramsay enjoys the simplicity of the fare: “Now he was happy, eating bread and cheese with these fishermen.”
Picnics are sensual in D.H.Lawrence's  novel “Women in Love”. The nude dances in full moon by Ursula and in the rain by Coney (Lady Chatterley’s Lover) have remained controversial in the history of literature. The lakeside picnic in open air is an aphrodisiac. The complete the picnic Lawrence does not forget to mention the delicious winy cakes, caviar sandwiches and hard chocolates besides tea, cucumber, bread, cheese, raisins and apples.
Some schizoids love to picnic alone on a beach with a book, thermos filled with coffee, basket with enough food and drinks, a blanket and a beach towel. We may think that they are alone but the fact is that they are in the company of nature and like Wordsworth; they too believe that nature is not only alive but also endowed with a personality.

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©  Vipin Behari Goyal

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Floating in The Vacuum With No Purpose

Floating in the vacuum with no purpose, not a one.
Why in the night sky are the lights on?

~ Fleet Foxes - Blue Spotted Tail


 Floating is a perfect posture for the thinking mind. Floating is a mental state reached by practicing. Whatever you need for physical buoyancy, deep breathing, lungs full of air, more oxygen in the blood, relaxed body, the first thing for you is to believe that you can float.

The same is true with the life. The journey starts with a belief. If you believe you can, you can. Then you need a dose of oxygen, positive energy. An oxygenated mind is like fertile soil. The ideas germinate and find a purpose in the lights put on in the night sky, a purpose in every single breath that you inhale and exhale.

Buoyancy is a principle of Physics. It is just an upward force exerted by a fluid that opposes the weight of an immersed object, or in other words, anything with higher density than water, will sink in water. The human body is naturally buoyant like all other animals, but they need to learn swimming. Most of other animals have a natural instinct to swim by keeping their nose above water. Mammalian Diving Reflexes, Vertical Anatomy of Ape, Guerrilla and Homo sapiens and Theory of Evolution are interesting attempts to understand this unresolved issue.

In the ocean of life, mind is under a weight of memories and past deeds, hope is the upward thrust required for buoyancy. Righteous deeds carry the consent of conscience and are light in gravity. Wrong deeds are conducted under temptation against the conscience, become heavy in gravity and cause a downward thrust. Every human being is a mix of these two streams. Wrong deeds or bad conduct creates hurdles in achieving the object of completeness. Complex situations are gifts of nature to advance evolution. Temptations have tendency to camouflage. Most of them elope when identified. Repentance is the hope of being forgiven.

"The highest type of man is he who effectively unites in himself the widest variety, complexity, and completeness of life."~ Spencer

Our Central Nervous System and Skeletal System are obsessed with specific gravity of the body. Salty water gives a buoyancy that makes our mind free to concentrate on other issues like elevation. Secretion of chemicals also determines the nature of our response. Adrenaline causes fear and extra glucose help to run or retort aggressively. However, by meditation the secretion of chemicals can also be controlled.

The human mind is said to be superior in the whole animal kingdom. Prenatal memories or memories of past incarnations are also possible. Man chases the secured buoyant life he had in the uterus. Right brain, which governs creativity and imagination is more active in a buoyant state. The homeostasis is ideal in a floating position, since external stimuli are at a minimum.

Buoyancy is bliss. We have arbitrary notions of progress that creates conflict in the mind. The Unknowable sets up a vacuum. Though acceptance of unknowable also implies that we have certain knowledge of the thing (Spencer). In the great sea of existence, we are a transient wave. The wave is an effort to restore the force of gravity.

Next time, when you are in water, seek buoyancy and float. Christ could walk on water. Many Buddhist monks walk on water, even today. Learn Buoyancy.

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©  Vipin Behari Goyal

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Confessions of a Teenager

Butterflies can't see their wings. They can't see how truly beautiful they are, but everyone else can ~ Naya Rivera

Reflection On Perception: Photo By Ashu

I hate to look at myself in the mirror. I am not ugly. I look good. My mirror is perfect, but I am not. I do not like many mirrors in the house. I have kept only one, above the washbasin. People expect me to have at least one at this place. It depresses me. My day starts with a sigh of sorrow to face another day of self-deception.
My parents repeat the same sermons every morning as if it is great news. They think I am tactless. I believe what they say, though I do not know exactly what the meaning of tact is. I like the way I am, but the obsession of being tactful has made me ugly. Why all those who claim to love me, crave for my improved version. Why do they lack empathy if they are not narcissistic?
It is better to be ‘tactful evil’ than to be ‘tactless good’. They advise but do not clarify. I cannot be a puppet. I do not have any strings attached. Not even in my mind. I walk, sleep and wake up like a robot. Can you expect a robot to be tactful?
My well-wishers say, “You have talent, tactics can make you successful”. It may be another way to say that I am dumb, which I am not. I do not appease my parents, teachers and bosses by keeping a record of their birthday and marriage anniversary, nor do I play vice versa with my friends and colleagues. I can be as jubilant or sad as you can, without being verbose about it. You may find me a ‘good company’ even if I remain silent.
I perceive the things in fragments. I take time to visualize a concept in its totality. If people do not have patience, they walk away. I do not mind. I cannot proceed unless I am sure. I vouch for the Truth. Society does not appreciate the truth. They seek pieces of glass with diamond cut.
Tact bridges the gap between talent and success. Everyone has a different idea of success. Society approves people who chase prosperity, fame and status. It makes society indispensable. For me success is happiness, but I have no idea what makes me happy. The same things often have made me feel gloomy.
I want to spend time with innocent young people. I find them more creative than experienced, wiser people.  They had had their life; I want to have my own. The hypocrite behavior of people around me is confusing, but ultimately I will find my way. May be not today, or tomorrow, but eventually, I will. I am not in a hurry. If time mould me to be one of them, I would commit suicide. However, I doubt if any of them have the courage to do so.

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©  Vipin Behari Goyal

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

The River is Everywhere

“The River is Everywhere.”

                           ― Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

CC at Ganges in Banaras

For long, long hour rain writes the story on the breast of the river. In different moods. Fast and slow, mild and fierce, stroke after strokes. Clouds feed the ink. Thunder claps, lightening cries. The story is tragic. The story is a comedy. The story is the story of life. 

Rain stops writing. River is always flowing indifferently. Rain has writer's block. The boredom of repeating the words, which have no meaning. As purposeless as life. River has swelled. Like desires. She looked so thin and cute. She has crossed margins. Wayward flow of life.

River is older than civilization. Richer than Kings. More thoughtful than sages. She is also like an ignorant peasant youthful girl. It has reflections. The trees, cattle drinking water, or taking a bath, children ready to jump, blue sky, birds, clouds, the bridge everything is recorded on the breast of the river. But nothing remains forever. Every moment a new story is drafted with different characters. Continuity of flow causes stress. Every moment is a pull and push. The future becomes present and past at that single moment.

River has problems with ungrateful people. Those who take her for granted. Those who render her feel dirty and ugly. She silently seeks to teach them. They have inflated ego and swollen pride. They do not understand. Then river retorts. It is not an easy decision. She finds another path, her course. New terrain, new people. They welcome her with open arms. The abandoned path becomes barren. People beg for mercy. She does not listen. She can’t.

No other part of nature is dynamic like her. Nor so omnipresent. For the theist, she is symbolic of God, for an atheist, a friend. She prefers being friend rather than God. Friends do care. Theists have destroyed her. They are the enemy of civilization.

She sings beautiful songs, with blissful abundance. The rainbow plays the tune; birds chirp and wind create sound with the rustling of leaves. The symphony played in the orchestra of nature.

 The river splits the world apart. On one end, are sensual on the other end, abstemious. Denial and acceptance are same for the river. River has bridges. Root bridges are hereby replaced by concrete bridges. The other side always is more enchanting. Bridges facilitate swift transformation, swimming across the river is a miracle.

Look at the face of the river. The turbulence is merely apparent. Deep down, she has reflection of your soul. It has many stories to share. She has ancient and modern stories in her treasure. You should have patience. Listen to them.

"I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers."


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©  Vipin Behari Goyal