"God's in his Heaven and all is right with the World"

"God's in his Heaven and all is right with the World"

It's a time to spread good cheer and festive joy.....to wish a toothless face and a homeless man "A very Merry Christmas", although the greetings that the season will bring to him might not be more than a cold bun.
It's a time to go back home even though for most the home might just be a corner of a street and not the place where the "hearth" is.
It's a time for greens and reds....even though for most the only green that they would like to see are green notes and the only red they get to see is war induced.
It's a time to return to childhood, although for most the only childhood they would like to go back to would have to be in another lifetime.
It's a time for reminiscence, even though what we would really like is an eraser to wipe of all memories and start anew.
Its a season of white, even though some people have forgotten what other colours look like as white is all they see.
Yet it's that time of the year....
The time when even the toothless man will grin; when even the corner of the street feels cozy; when green and red mean more than money and blood; when white seems too colourful;when no matter what the memories and no matter how the childhood, at least one moment of it is worth reminiscing about.

So what happens really...?
Is it because long long ago a God-like child was born among cows and sheep? Nah!!
Is it because at this time of the year some children are made to live in a world that revolves around the belly of a white bearded man?
Or is it because no matter how the year may have been, we are happy that it is ending soon and we hope that it is somehow better in the next?

No matter what the reason...it is that time of the year...the time when whether or not God is in his Heaven and whether or not the turkey is in the oven....Something does seem to be right about this "stinking world".

[This is a conversation. The setting is the road. The conversation takes place between two people- a mind-vacant human, we shall call him, man(how original) and another man-like-creature, we can call him Monsieur Mort, or whatever the hell you want to call him]

Man:Give me a second. Can't you wait a little?

M.M: Na! I can't. You got your second. You thought you were very smart...turns out I can outsmart you.

Man: But...but....but...but but but...

M.M: (Exasperated) Look, you are the 156735290384th one today....so cut out the buts and make my life a little simple.

Man: Do you know how to rewind time? I mean this time, I won't hit the divider...I'll swerve around it...

M.M: Last time you had thought you'd swerve around it....why didn't you?

Man: I usually can...but today..I don't know really...i think it was the street light...flashed right into my eyes...

M.M: Ya right...that lone street light that was working....[pacing up and down]

Man: Ok, well maybe it was a car or something that came from the left...

M.M: Was it? Really? Now let's see? [Plays a video clip on his ipod]...Now , there, you seem to be quite alone, don't you?

Man: Uh...uh...uh...uh...umm..uh...

M.M: Yes?

Man: ...................

M.M: I'll tell you....It's all quite common really...you had a peg too many...and that weird thing Humans have made...(possibly the only good thing) Ah! yes, helmet, isn't it....you refused to wear one.

Man: ..................

M.M: Well, ok enough chit chatting...I have other things to do, so hurry....

Man: You seem to have so much in your control...why, why can't you just do something , you know? Some magic, some trick, something to keep me here... I promise I won't do it again....Never, ever again.

M.M: Well child, stop harassing me now...I did what I could...I was sitting on that stone wall and listening...you told yourself it would take you one second to swerve and I gave you that second...but you took two....you see, child, I usually mean what I say and I thought you did too...Now I know that in your world, 'one second' means 'two or more', 'a sorry' means 'I don't give a shit' and 'I promise' means 'let me off the hook somehow'. But you'll learn soon. Now, come on, silly thing...I just lost out on an in between snack because of this question-answer session....

Man: No I'm telling you, it was not the helmet, the pegs or ummm ok, not even the light....it was...it was...I was mind-vacant.

M.M: Mind-vacant...what the hell is that?

Man: You know....I wasn't thinking.

M.M: What shit...that brain thing that you have up there is always thinking...it's not programmed to stop..

Man:............Nah, I mean I was fuzzled

M.M: Ya, I'm sure...

Man: No really....Listen to my reason...listen

M.M: [Fading out] Walk while you talk child, walk while you talk...

Man: [walking] Ya see, I'll tell you what exactly happened....[Fade].

The emperor (needs) new clothes???

"To blah is to set aside a part of me...covered in a mirage ....a part that actually exists but physically doesn't" said a friend to me. Wondering how she knew that, I realized it was because all our thought clouds are made of blahs. It is not an escape but an easy exit to think all the thoughts that would otherwise need a justification and evoke a judgment.

We all blah blah all the time, it is only when they seem adorned in civilized finery do we express them in front of others. But, a naive question here, if all of us blah blah then why can't we tell each other? After all your blah and my blah might be similar, and who knows they might not need a gentleman's clothing to be presented in front of the world.

The "naked truth" they say is ugly. But perhaps if we stop focusing so much on its nakedness and instead focus on the noun that accompanies this ugly adjective, might we be able to accept it and like it for what it is.

So blahs, I shall not adorn thee, well except for giving you'll the occasional scarf or a nice tie pin. Just that. And if you have objections too, let me know...I shall rush and get you that pretty shawl I saw at the shop window.

The first ceremonious blah

Okay. After being a bystander for long and keying the occasional poem....it seems as if So is ready to tell one and all about her blah blahs. Mind you...these have a mind of their own and are often not in So's control. But even if these amoeboid creatures move around, they have clear instructions not to leave the page...

Not that So will blah blah everytime she blah blahs for that would need a pretty large blog and the typing speed of striking lightning, but whenever the incidental blah blah finds its way to the page, it shall respectfully occupy some space there..

That's about it...the blah blahs are blinking tiredly....zoop....fuzzz...lights out