A time for the others

Selflessness perpetrates the words and actions of the humanitarian elite but could it be the same with the common mongrel? I wonder how people make a fine balance between their professional and social environments when the trend is always to be entangled in the quagmire of duty than to follow what ones heart desires. It is impossible then to even think of devoting ones time to the needs and let alone fancies of other people. Yet it is this alone that happens to me almost every time in my life. Its a miracle how people can induce me to agree with them in so few words and its even much more of a mystery as to how their needs become my own sole responsibilities even before you can say "help". I believe the art of persuasion is what every body has taken a degree in and i alone a dunce in the subject. Can't expect people to take notice of your trials when their own hands are full to the brim but could it be much if one asks for a bit of consideration on say, at least a humanitarian ground. I think what this society lacks is a feeling of empathy when one could find enough and more of plain old sympathy. To be in another persons shoe and to experience what it is for him that one learns the art of tolerance but sadly in our day people detests taking on others shoes even if it meant for a few seconds. Can't blame them for these shoes might be the last place u would want to shove your feet into. Pray at least lets hope in this digital age that a scene of mercy might evince moist eyes in the beholder. The following image is uploaded in the hope that at least this will induce your eyes to moisten itself, if at all for the wrong reasons...

dream on the 14th of august 2011

early morning, cocooned like a defensive lobster.

how do u build an aquarium for the culture of sharks? Here's how:

A relatively large room is to be converted into the said tank and in the dream there was an elderly man on whose guidance all the preparations were being done. There seemed to be what looked like tiny trap doors at either end of the room at exact opposite points but the logic of water seeping through them never occurred. how could it , this is a dream. water to the tank was being pumped through this huge pipe although it required the boiling of something exceedingly viscous and oily , the duty of which was taken up by my father and me, in an adjacent room. The resultant blue ablution was pumped , rather slowly n believe me, boringly into the tank via the pipe. I distinctly remember the room having a rather inconspicuous division in the middle that sort of divided the room int exact halves. assured by someone that the whole room was to be turned into the watery world, it no longer bothered me. There were also times when papa n me got in trouble with the brewing. The viscosity seemed to harden and then loosen conditioned to over low or overheating the liquid, and to find a balance between the two seemed to be hard job. All in all the thought of being able to stand in a tank that was meant for the free movement of vicious sharks was an exhilarating one.. not to mention a dream come true.

AND THE DAY:

-was uneventful except for the contrivance of a cold.

-woke up, daily chores, sat to study(xam time dumbheads!), with no much result untill evening.

-MC, Prasun, Arun pestering around as usual.

-started studyin properly from evening onwards.

-full fledged cold, just as i was about to have my dinner.

-took steam from a water heater borrowed from arun, twice.

-in between finished two chapters of RANDAAMOOZHAM.

-slept around two in the morning with the lights on and M.C at the laptop.