Love, Life and Happiness

So I met him today. He, of feminine voice and masculine arrogance, looked at me from underneath the glasses and complained to the person who had taken me for the meeting.  "He makes too much noise, that this is loss to public exchequer and things like that." Said he, with such an indignance as if I had offered him some corrupt offer. He was visibly agitated. Agitated about my request to him and his colleagues to remain honest and fair. I couldn't understand why. How could you be angry about someone who had wanted you to act honestly and honourably? But then he was. The government of the day has changed, but that government is busy getting resolved the fight of languages. The masses rise for a stupid struggle. Language, mine and yours, ought to be respected. Languages, one and all, are anyways dying for the lack of love, but then, that's another days debate. I thought of another government officer, honest but timid due to hierarchy, gnawing at any pretence

The weather is still full of caprices and undecided on which way to go. The Sun is still brutal and unyielding, clouds are inconclusive. Such weather is perfect for brooding and pessimism. A weather like that diminishes the good, happy feeling and pronounces the pain which is consistent with sad, humid contours of a rainless day.  It has been three years for a health-check which ought to have been annual. In the middle of this overwhelming, at times, unreasonably annoying days, I sat thinking couple of days back. I thought of my now near-regular 5-miles run, irregular diet and my general health, or rather not knowing the real state of it.  For some reason, my mind kept on pulling to the absurd optimism in an impossible immortality and to the fact, that I could be dying in the middle of the unreasonable hope. I knew, a detailed peek into the functioning of my body was well needed, as I also knew, I waited stupidly for someone to drag me out of my slothful stupor to a hospital. Suddenly

I dabbled into literature almost since, well, forever. I would read thick books and doodle on the last pages of my engineering notebooks as a college boy and in the last pages math notebooks with neat blocks printed over the pages. Some felt it was poetry, but to my young mind which I always refer to a troubled soul which knew little and felt much, it was the only relief which my troubled soul could find. When I dig deeper into my soul and look at myself twenty year younger, searching for answers in written words, my own and of the greats whom I read with great sense of admiration and hope, I tend to believe my early reading could have sowed the seeds of my own discomfort with the world around me. Literature made me believe in the possibility of ideals. I guess that is a danger that every serious reader carries. That, and the possibility of eventually turning into a writer himself. I went through both, belief in the possibility of a life which we read that it has a possibility of

A man (and Woman) is known by the words he or she uses. We rise in words and we fail, falter and decay in the squalor of words. There isn’t only an ornamental appeal to right words spoken at the right moment for the right reasons. They are the ambassadors of the king that they serve, the ambassadors to the minds and souls they represent. Words people speak tell us about the moral leanings of people and station they occupy in their own social evolution. Our leaders ought to represent the best in us. When they fail us, their failure ought to shake us. The passivity of our reaction to the misdemeanor of our leaders define the future we are setting up for our kids. We are thereby creating the world for them. Tapas Pal of TMC has made utterances of late, on three occasions which ought to wake us up out of our slumbers. Intellectuals of Kolkata sided with TMC against the communists in the recent elections. But then, the reign of Communists was no better. The number of goons and anti-so