Caution : What you could come across in the process.

Insignificant references to my life, an abstract and distracted thought sequel, monotony, inconsistency, vague vague perception, whorish intellectualism, feminist bullshit, armchair activism, causes I try to relate to, sharp sarcasm, even sharper criticism, frivolous details.

Nonetheless Happy Reading.

Monday, May 18, 2009

The funny man and his drum

I would like to comment on the title of my blog..not only is it reverting, it is also untrue. On second thought I wouldn't call the man funny and I am not really sure about the drum thing either.

There was a wailing down the street at 8 in the morning. It was one of those days when I forced myself out of bed,early on to let the refreshingly cool morning breeze do its bidding of clearing the clutter in my messed up head. The wailing alternated with the sound of drums and other 'beats' whose origin was hard to define.
'What's that?' I say.
'Don't look..' says Mam.
Obviously I do.
I sneak peak through one of the living room window's upstairs. A forty something ragged wretch doing his version of a jingle on the street, hair flared up like a broom on the loose and white streaks across his emaciated torso (which bore the brunt of his ribs sticking out) making him look like an indie photographer's flavour of the month.
To his waist hung last century metallic apparel that had lost both luster and sheen. His bare clothing included a disarray of not so enchanting colours.

I call him 'funny' because whatever adjective I would address him with wouldn't be of much relevance to him or rest of the folk around him watching him silently with faces that spoke of disgust and ridicule but eyes that couldn't conceal a hint of envy.
Envy? whoa where did that come from? I'll tell you why..its because apart from the momentary insanity that the funny man left behind, he also left behind a certain nakedness of facts. A nakedness of entire perceptions and conceptions that are brain fed to us every now and then. Stark naked..and this we as followers of humanity cannot define.

That was all that was left lingering on the empty street after he left - a nakedness of the facts which was disturbingly sufficient for you to question - all that you were doing, all that you did and all that you once planned to do.

And what's funny is takes a semi clothed wretch doing a jingle on the street to make us stop and stare and look at who we are and our respective places on this planet.

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