My Friend Rainy – Remembrance and Acceptance – Chapter 24

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Photograph of Rainy by Mark Ulyseas

Photograph of Rainy by Mark Ulyseas

“Something has changed in you”, said Rainy.

I sip my absinthe and then take a deep drag on my cigar, two things that keep me sane.  I look down at my friend and pat his head and reply, “Yes, something has…”

The monsoon has arrived and with it the fornicating frogs, snakes and other creepy crawlies. Nights are cooler and days more humid.

“And?” ask Rainy expectantly.

“Oh…I need time”

“Time? No, you don’t…now tell me, please”

“Ok”, I reply reluctantly, “I had a dream last week when I was camping out in that wild elephant country. A dream that appeared a bit disjointed. The continuity person had probably taken the day off. It was my late wife. She was there and a few other people I knew. There was no malice, no anger in fact we made love…a gentleness that could dissolve the soul. A certain understanding existed between us.  We were in this room with things strewn on the bed. The walls were green; you know the colour of that marzipan that I bought the other day? Her parents were in the next room. Strange, we never talked. It was as if we spoke with our minds and bodies. I woke up feeling like I had travelled a very long distance with the weight of wasted time on my back. I felt a bit lost; lost in a maze of my own making. The following day I walked up the hill to an ancient burial site. Stones piled one on top of the other to make odd shaped structures. Wild elephants frequent the area.  I saw a tusker about 500 yards away. He saw me and raised his trunk to taste air. But he never made a sound, just watched me standing there. Then he walked to one of the graves and stood there as if contemplating or talking to the dead. A crow pheasant flew past. It was the wind that made me shiver for it carried my dream before it and ran it across the sky like a movie…it was as real as it could be. I abruptly turned and walked down the hill to the campsite. That night a leopard came calling and carried away Derrick, the camp dog, my faithful companion who kept guard every night. We found a few bits of him the next morning by the well. I was heart broken and returned home. I was to stay for at least three weeks.”

“So that’s why you returned early from you trip?”

“Yes. I was meaning to talk to you but the wheels of time keep running backward. I seem to be reliving my life minute by minute. I woke this morning to the tune of Oh Darling in my head…I actually got up singing the song…”

“You’ve got to stop the absinthe my friend. It is pickling your brain.”

“Shut up”

“Okay, here’s what is happening. The past and present have merged into one. Reality is the physical world around you. Both are not in sync with one another. Your mind is attempting to make peace with the past by involving the present images to dictate your feelings.  The question is about love. Maybe that is what is missing at the moment. You were divorced…”

“But what about the elephant, the images in the sky which I swear were for real”, I ask.

“The elephant was real. It represents wisdom…wisdom to understand the question of life and death and the relationship with each other. And the images in the sky were probably due to the absinthe.”

“Are you mad I wasn’t drinking…I don’t drink when I camp out…just smoke”

“Ah…well what did you smoke?”

“Humm…you have a point”

“I see you as a different person today because I think the wheels of time have finally stripped away the many layers that confuse your inner spirit. Most people drape themselves in layers of memories, of regrets and unhappiness. This camouflages the spirit…the pure being. Have you seen the face of a baby, the eyes and the smile? It is as if they are smiling at the pure being in a grown up.

Your dream is about what should have happened between you and your late wife. Nothing can be undone. But it can be accepted and then let go. For what is life? A mere breath carried away by gale force winds and then lost forever in the darkness of space,” says Rainy as he lays his head on my lap.

It begins to rain as night falls into nothingness.

 

Chapter One

Chapters Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Flight 370 – two places to look

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Flight 370 could be in only two places: either the Bay of Bengal or in Burma.
And if it is a hijack then the best place to look is East Africa.

Ukraine – the plot thickens

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Estonian Minister of Foreign Affairs Urmas Paet and High Representative of the European Union for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy Catherine Ashton have their phones hacked and their conversation leaked…hahahaha.. I wonder who were the real instigators in the Ukraine people’s ‘uprising’.  Urmas is heard informing Ashton that the snipers who shot and killed policemen and protestors were actually hired by leaders of Maiden…and more.

Enjoy….

My Friend Rainy- Waiting Room – Chapter 23

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My friend Rainy pic by Mark Ulyseas

 

“Rainy…are you awake?”

“Yes. Dreaming again?”

“No, I want to talk”, I reply and get up, switch on the light and walk to the kitchen.

“What is it mate? Hey while you’re in the kitchen could I get some milk?”

“Sure”.

I return with a shot of absinthe and a bowl of milk for Rainy and retire to the verandah. Rainy quickly polishes off the milk and jumps onto the verandah wall…he sits there, legs crossed, looking out into the ethereal light of dawn.

“What is it”, he asks as if talking to the silhouettes of palm trees.

“Memories…they play tricks when you dream.  Could dreams be regurgitated memories that reflect all that could have been not what had actually happened?  Is this a waiting room that we live in? You know like that in a hospital where we wait to be treated?  The dream I awoke from was real…I was sitting in a waiting room in a hospital. There was no one there, just the sound of chanting down the corridor. Every once in a while a person in white would wheel a body covered in a blue cloth on a stretcher past me and down the corridor. It felt as if I was witnessing the passing away of my relatives. Then one stopped. And the body sat up…as the cloth fell away I noticed it was me. The man gently pushed the body down, pulled the cloth over it and began wheeling it away…down the corridor where the chanting grew louder.”

“How do you feel now?”

“I feel as if my soul has been removed, taken away…wheeled away under that blue cloth”.

Rainy jumps down from the wall and places his head on my lap.

“Just yesterday I remembered my little cousin who passed away so many years ago. She was all of 6 years old…she got sick and she died. It was as if this world was a waiting room for her. What a beautiful child. What a pointless existence,” I say as if speaking to myself.

“That is one way of looking at it. And there is another.”

“Is there? Really?”

“You don’t have to be sarcastic. This world is a physical world which has limitations like disease, age and more. No one can control it, not even those that you pray to. A free will exists that is truly unfettered…no ropes to tie one down. So death can come along anytime, anywhere. Grief is pointless for this too burdens the soul. And speaking of souls…yours probably has taken a leave of absence…I have been sensing a change in you for some time now. I know you have to move on, to travel for sometime…so when are you leaving?” asks Rainy expectantly.

“I don’t know. Maybe when my soul returns… but maybe by then it would be too late”.

Rainy jumps onto my lap, lays his head in my arms and goes to sleep.

The first rays of the sun lights up the white washed church next to the house…the bells ring…it is time for mass.

The faithful trudge past the house in silence.

A short while later I hear them chanting…

Chapter One

Chapters Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Oh India why do you continue to murder your baby girls?

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Shame on you India. You talk of your great ancient culture but yet in the 21st century you rape, beat and murder your women…even throwing away newborn baby girls. Is this the incredible India that you advertise to the world?

The following news report is heart breaking. A newborn baby girl was found in a river with her mouth sealed with duct tape.

Kumbakonam, Tamil Nadu:  A newborn baby was found dead in the Cauvery river at Kumbakonam in Thanjavur district of Tamil Nadu.
Police say the mouth of the infant girl was sealed with a tape used for packing. ”We have buried the body. We are probing to trace those responsible for this murder,” a police officer told NDTV. The incident occurred despite the Cradle Baby Scheme in which cradles are provided in several hospitals where parents could leave behind unwanted babies, who are then taken of care by the state government. –LINK

How can the Indian Government’s efforts to curb violence against the women, girls and female foetuses when the Indian mindset has not changed. Some say it is embedded in the culture, whilst others claim that the majority of Indian males view females as receptacles for the male libido and beasts of burden.

The myth of Mother India is just what it is, a myth.

Breasts and Politics and FEMENs

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This is for those women who consider themselves “Feminists” and feel that they get a raw deal from the “men”. Inna Shevchenko a FEMENist from Ukraine is interviewed by Oksana of RT on why the organisation ‘FEMEN’ bares their breasts as a form of protest. Inna claims that women from childhood are forced to look good for the men, are forced into motherhood etc. I wish Simone de Beauvoir was around with her tome, The Second Sex. For the men viewers, sorry no dirty pictures:)

 

Sperm Smuggling

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Believe it or leave it. Here is a news report of Muslim women who impregnate themselves with their husbands’ sperm which has been smuggled out of Israeli jails where their husbands are incarcerated. How can one not admire these women?

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