Chimera...

The last couple of days have been days of healing. Here I was lamenting on my distance..such a vast distance from the Divine..or the so called Objective understanding of the universe..and at some point in time even questioning my need for closure of this search..(where is this need coming from in the brain? is it the rational centre that needs closure..can there be completeness without closure..?). And then i read Keats and Wordsworth..after so many years..actually first time in the mind numbing school where the poetry was taught in a manner so brutual..and then in college..
and these poets seem to have gone through the same pain im going thrru right now..this pain of being touched by something and then losing it..

(Excerpts from Ode to a nightingale)..keats

“ ..Thou was not born for Death, immortal Bird
No hungry generations tread thee down
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad hear of Ruth, when sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn…
……Adieu! Adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still streams
Up the hillside; and now ‘tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:- Do I wake or sleep?


Ode on a Grecian Urn

Thou unravish’d bride of quietness
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme
What lea-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape
Of Dieties or mortals or of both
In Tempe or the dales or Arcady
What men or gods are these ?What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit?what struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstacy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter;therefore, ye soft pipes, play on:
Not to the sensual ear, but more endear’d
…..
With forest branches and trodden weed
Thou silent form dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: cold Pastoral
When old age shall this generation waste
Thou shalt remain in the midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to who thou say’st
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty”, - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.



From Prelude : WordsWorth

“….ye presences of Nature in the sky
And on the earth! Ye visions of the hills!
And Souls of lonely places! Can I think
A vulgar hopes of yours when ye employed
Such ministry, when ye through many a year
Haunting me thus among my boyish sports,
On caves and trees, upon wood and hills,
Impressed upon all forms the characters
Of danger or desire; and does did make
The surface of the universal earth
With triumph and delight, with hope and fear..”

Danse cerebre

I am sitting at the poolside of Tanglin club. A colonial slice in the middle of the bustling and exploding Singapore. There almost seem to be an immediate relief from the outside. The severity of the precision in Singapore – the way the traffic moves, the very precise way of people walking, even the trees look so precise the way they stand and the way they are shaped. A complete lack of spontaneity. Monastic. And with all these precision and symmetry there is no beauty. What is missing is movement. Beauty comes in movement. Precison is death. Its frozen. There is no place for anyone else. There are no surprises. There is no flowering. The club is a worm hole in the space-time continuum. You go back to a time where there was neither a rush nor a need for precision. A time of repose and watch the clouds pass by. There is order without precision. There is time for a dance. Like dance with its steps yet all the room in the world for a personal expression.

Sex Machine

So what is sexuality..what is the feeling..? where does it pop up from when you see a hot body floating past? where does it pop up from in the middle of the night or in the middle of a meeting?
Does the eye pick up an object and switch on a gear inside that starts off the whole process of desire..then aquisition and then quenching the desire..and then the desire just vanishes! pop! and then even when the hot body makes its mandatory and (relentless?) appearance there is no desire..no feeling..
it probably means that the simuli that comes from the eye ..needs some kind of an accumulated fuel to burn..it seems that once the desire is quenched the fuel is burnt and therefore nothing for Round2 till there is an accumulation of the fuel. It feels so silly looking at the whole thing like a machinery.takes the romance out of my passion..! but then in Mid Summer Shakespeare very nicely brings about the absurdity of the emotion of love..it doesnt really matter if the object of your passion is a donkey..its the chemicals inside that really cause all that passion..
The human machine seems to love repeating moments of pleasure..the burning of the fuel brings in the pleasure and therfore the pattern is set..
So the question is - DO I burn this fuel quenching the neeeds of the body..? what if i dont burn this at all?? what happens to the fuel? will it get burnt elsewhere? say imagination? or anger..??
its so frustrating not to know the workings of this body..! isnt there a manual somewhere..then..when the hotbody comes..the desire is quenched ..but the fuel is intact.. perpetual motion between celibacy and consummation.

Trishanku...reality sandwitch.

Before i really start let me ay homage to the food gods for a fantastic dinner at Lara Djong Grand in Jakarta. Two divine places in Jakarta - Oasis and now Lara DjongGrand. Thanks to Buddha for being in the restuarent and starting vacantly as I ate. Also a nice reminder of the real distance between us. He with nirvana..me half way between hapiness and nirvana. This probably is the worst place to be. When One is firmly planted on the ground. It really dosent matter. When one is in Nirvana it really effin doesnt matter. And when ur in the middle...your ground below is as far away as the sky above.
I have learnt not to reach up any more. i guess if its important for the universe, nirvana will probably happen anyways. If it doesnt i guess too bad for the universe. Maybe at best I will stare at death in the eye and not just go out kicking and screaming. But the sight from here is not pretty:
The mind-body seems to be some kind of a processing unit where various energies enter for some proocesses. Some energies enter thru the senses ..esp the eyes..and some enter thru the head..and they just battle it. I sometimes watch the battle from a distance..whatever the processes and all that pain and sensations. For some reasons even though I watch at a distance I hurt too...and i will continue to hurt till or if..."the energy level changes and I go so far away that finally the battle doesnt touch me"..I wonder if this "search" is some kind of a bondage..where the search keeps u in perpetual bondage of sadhana..Work..or whatever...beg plead..besech the universe to spot me..and grant me grace..the grace of eternal distance from the battles..grace of immortality..
its not in my hands..all i have to do is wait..and hope i get the pick of the draw..the awarness comes and goes..of its own voilition...i have no say in the matter..and so does my going to sleep happens..all on its own..i wonder what the hell is my role in all this..wonder why I am? is universe short of witnesses that they need people to just "witness"???
So when I am up in the morning..and my body is burning with a hunger for a touch of feminine energy, this awareness comes up that this feeling is because my energy levels have "docked" in a part of the brain that activates the sexual centres and will seek release from there. So then its got to be undocked and "channeled" into this "bank" of awareness that will in future tell me that when im horny next that I need to undock it and channel it to bank of awareness that...
What happened to the good old wank?? what happened to just seducing or being seduced and just let the kink take over?
So while i sometimes think im not the body..or sometimes I think fuck man..i am not supposed to be the body..im supposed to be this being-awareness..and with the knowledge that im not this who im supposed to be and i dont know whaT im all about..i continue to exist..like a man who's lost his name and woke up in a strange country