In search of solitude!

dear cheeniya sir,

as always, whenever i feel bored i go back to your old posts and they have the effect of instantly cheering me up.just trying to imagine aishwarya rai of the insect world had me
and how true..most of us wander aimlessly throughout our life without knowing its purpose.the creature being away from its kith and kin and seeking solitude in the crevices of your bathroom to attain nirvana? totally hilarious !:thumbsup
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Dear Cheeniya sir,
I became dumbfounded after reading this wonderful post !!! Your imagination and mastery over language cannot be described by an ordinary lady who knows only simple English.
You made me to recollect the poem " Solitary reaper"
I imagine you as Wordsworth.Since Wordsworth could not understand Gaelic, the language of the reaper, he impatiently asks whether someone could tell him what she was singing about. By doing so he sparks our imagination as to what she could be singing about.Like that you were also wondering about the origin of the tiny creature!Wordsworth writesThe music in my heart I bore,

Long after it was heard no more.Like that you also would have sung
The creature in my heart I bore : It made me to write a post!!!
with love
pad

 

Dear Sri:

I can swear that I am dumbfounded. I am dumbfounded because I realized that a "possibilty theorem" has just been proved. The possibility of a perfect wave length between two human beings. You have written in a style that I not only admire, but have often tried to adopt. And, however stupid this may sound, I am willing to announce without the slightest doubt in my mind that his piece of prose was a present from God to me. You were the bearer of course, but that is an inconsequential fact. I have always been able to see through your Godly disguises.

Haven't we all come across endlessly many "it-s" in our lives? Yet why is it that our it's didn't produce the same sequence of thoughts as yours? An it in search of solitude, a crevice where where the it can sit, and engage in transcendental meditation about the purpose underlying its creation. The same crevice mind you that lies behind your wash basin. The same one indeed into which a lizard had entered prior to emerging in the form of a lifeless being.

Ah ha! Even the inexpert biologists that you and I are shouldn't have too much difficulty in taking off from here. And the key line I think could be your Groucho Marx style observation: "A bore is a person who robs you of your solitude without providing you company." My mind, being less philosophically oriented than yours, searches for physical evidence of every metaphysical observation. And this rather mundane variety of my experiment suggests as a working hypothesis that there was a bore waiting for the it inside the crevice. The fat lizard that you wrongly accused yourself of having murdered.

The thing is you see the lizard was inclined more towards gastronomy than philosphical ruminations. Its (the lizard's I mean, not the it's) obesity suggests in fact that the only way it could possibly have kept company with the it was by offering it a resting place inside an open mouth. And there the it entered gullibly enough, assuming that solitude had at last arrived.

I needn't tell you Walrus and Carpenter style what happened then onwards. The fact that you have never come across the it since that fateful day bears ample testimony to the fact that the lizard's stomach was where it was sent to enjoy the solitude it had sought so badly.

And then when the it realized that the philosopher's corner it was forced into was neither comfortable nor escable, it decided to recall a warning that God had whispered into its ears as he sent it on its way to dear earth. The warning was, neither predator nor predat-ed be as far as lizards go. Having remembered what it had forgotten in its single minded search for solitude, it had entered the wrong crevice, I mean the crevide inside the crevice.

But as soon as it was struck by this helpful thought, it began a solitary revolt of sorts which the philosophically untrained lizard mistook as a minor stomach disorder. It came out of its crevice and clung to the ceiling of your bathroom waiting for help to arrive in the shape of your pate.

The more I think about this the more I tend to agree with Einstein in the context of his differences with Neils Bohr. God was not playing with a dice when he created the universe. Everything was preordained, including the lizard's fall on your person with a desperate request. Take me to a hospital please. I have a tummy ache. What you had mistaken for a lizard planning its next move was in fact a lizard rendered semi-immobile by the pain it suffered. It was not moving because it was incapable of moving, given that the it had declared a proletarian revolt of sorts inside the most vital of its (i.e. the lizard's) organs.

The rest is history good friend. While you were philosophising, a creature was dying in pain and yet another, which in its philosophical predilection, had landed in the wrong nook to meditate on creation, was drowning in lizard bile.

Two precious lives lost and all for the indiscretion you committed by designing wash basins with crevices behind them. Even a confirmed non-veggie like me is shedding oceans of tears at the very thought of this senseless destruction of life and you stand there with a Chengis Khan grin. Frailty thy name is vegetarianism!

oj

 

Dear Cheeniya Sir,

No doubt.You are a great writer.

Whenever i watch Manirathnam's movies I always feel that they are contemperory. I feel the same reading your articles.

No body will think of writing about "meeting (???!!) an insect in bathroom":rotfl

You are an unique genius Sir:bowdown:bowdown

 

Dear Cheeniya Sir,

With the help of google, I got to know the word for Insect watcher as 'entomologist'. I kindly request you to append this word under your signature