Word!

Nepal specific discussions on culture, spirituality and the arts
rock22

Word!

Postby rock22 » Sat Nov 06, 2010 3:39 pm

I have always echoed Shakespeare. In plenty I have quoted him whenever I had to, making anaphora out of "there's nothing in word!" As he kept on saying with vim and vigor there is nothing in word so I kept on believing with ream and rigor there is nothing in word. I obeyed him, verbatim. But a quick lightening that flashed yesterday in the far-flung acres of my imagination, furiously scarlet as had its texture, captured me at midnight calling for investing little bit of thought. I planted few seeds of thought thereby, which took on root in no time and expanded in the three dimensional space few seconds soon after.

I could see things in new perspective then. As I saw so I immediately noticed something in word and later I saw everything, everything in Word. The drum of Shakespeare sounded false to me; in his golden words I noticed slight stain of fakeness and also few morsel of falsehood. “O great Bard", I murmured sitting forlorn under the deadliest texture of the oppressive night, “Though thy logic is served with a large quantity of analytic neurons and has a great quality of thought, yet with you I disagree.” I spoke to none but to myself, “Though what you mean by what you say is: One, words are quite essentially arbitrary in nature. Another, meaning not only traverses though the jungle of time but also is contingent too much too many upon the value which is assigned, yet, with you I disagree,” came out of my disgruntled throat these indecent words of dissent.

This following event was the precedence for the discord.

I was sitting at my porch and looking into the sky, I saw a heavenly Angel-Teacher, a messenger who was sent by God, sent from heaven so as spread the sperm of logos, wisdom, and so forth. Limping on the southernmost part of the horizon was he. What was so fascinating more than anything else was how he was suspending in the sky, as if was pulled down by the gravity of the earth and up by that of the moon, the force being exactly the same in proportion: 1:1. To clear away confusion and to offer an statistical analysis. It means as the power of gravity from both world, the upper and the nether, was too equal to be called unequal, and so he could neither fall downward at hurried pace nor astray upward aberrantly. Stretched horizontally was he and vertical was not he hung, but he could apply his own bodily force at will to create great floating locomotion in the space.

I saw the angel-teacher write this: “Meaning is created at a certain point, which is space, and it, the meaning, keeps on expanding, warping the woofs and twisting the warps of time. And time, which, is the vector.” As the alphabets, which he drew, were little bit hazy, or something like of half blurred quality and nothing too clear to be precisely seen with the naked eyes, I grabbed a binocular. Firmly clutched I the upper part of it with my palm and the lower part of it with my fingers, fitting it as firmly as I could onto my eyes. Ineffably curious I was to observe the strangeness occurring about our familiar horizon.

After he had written a few other words, he with help of a duster-like equipment, brushed them from the horizon. Nothing was seen afterward for a considerable length of time, yet my brain was too nimble, which I am kind of proud of, and too agile to remember the cursive letters exactly as they had appeared before being cleared away. Thus was written by him which was noticed by me: “Words possess a certain quality in them and they are capable of inflecting certain emotion or force into us." It looked like, nay, in truth it was if I can remember properly and which I boldly claim, nothing but the first paragraph. And the second paragraph was written like this: “Some words are as sharp as razor’s edge and take no time to wound us and offend; others are of various qualities, for example, capable twice enough to leave a pleasant footprint as they walk across our ears. They may, nonetheless, cut confidence sometime as much as they inspire us.” In this grandiloquent fashion had ended the second paragraph.

The cosmic teacher, who hovered at the location where the sky met the sea, was carving the dark skin of the sky with alphabets of different colors which flashed constantly, emitting tinges of this and hues of that, of great varieties indeed. Some were red, some scarlet, few were of aqua-maroon. To be precise, all “T”s were, whether capital or small, of scarlet colors. “I”s were faintly azure, with slight hint of dots. “A”s and “L”s were the ones most liked by all eyes because it was of iridescent hues. The teacher busied himself on incising the sky with words and on chiseling the rough edges of the alphabets, which he’d carved so as to make them look handsome besides their colored attractiveness.

Here’s the full text that the teacher wrote and what I saw that night. I warn you! The velocity with which he cut the sky to frame words, however, was but slow, as slow as the moon’s rotating speed as seen from the earth!

““Whoever can see me suspend in the sky like this and see me cut the sky thus at this hour of the night will learn that Shakespeare is not right. He must be wrung by me. For, Words are superhuman like Jesus of Nazareth, for they are conceived either out of holy fact or out of fiction of similar caliber. Holy fact and holy fiction signifies Holy Ghost in their superlative degree and all three carries value which is replaceable by one another.
Man of Letter who carries a quill and who has his mind too fecund to be called mediocre and too creative to be called simple, is The Father of Word. What is Virgin Mary to the Christian world is that Man of Letter to the world of Word. It is because Imagination impregnates his mind. Then the man of letter without foul intercourse, and hence either out of his mouth and that by letting people hear of his Word, or with help of the tip of his quill which scrambles across dry sheepskins, he announces his, Word’s, arrival, and sets him, word, free.
After then Word knocks at the door of wordhouse itself, which earthly folks for the convenience of their tongue, call the dictionary. And Word pushes with precise decorum some of his fellows over his head and others beneath his feet, maintaining his weight and worth and builds thus a permanent place to live. And there we go: with royal nonchalance, he creates Space and Time and enthrones amid his folks.
How often you let such glorious phenomena go by, thinking nothing about it or overlooking it in their entirety since they, pulling your lips apart you mutter, are as small as a baby ant for your imagination which is always seeking after, or pining for, phenomena as big as matured elephants.
Word, conceived thus of holy fiction or holy fact and landing thereafter on the human abode, says softly: "I have come of age now." So soft is his voice that the whistles of Orpheus proves to be an uncharming staccato. "Make me your servant!" Quite obsequiously murmurs he in such a way that the skin of our soul gets animated with ripples of joy and the fiber of our thought is tingled also. "Let me serve you, Monarch!" pleas he; "Let me serve you; I am very useful" prays he. Thus you and I, all of us in fact, welcome him and he lives among us. He is word.
At times when you find yourself disoriented or almost defeated while arguing with your chattering friends, while waging a holy war for vehement description, or while engaging in gigantic narration of our past, we feel ourselves being positioned between The heat of Sahara and The vortex of Antarctic. In the meantime your supposed friends or opposing foes, who are the interlopers and with whom you are engaged in unfriendly fire, keeps on assailing us orally.
It’s when our servant, Word, cries thus: "Who are those strangers there trying to vanquish my master?" And the loyal word again cries: "Master! O Master! Let me jump out from the tips of thy tongue and attack at the ears of thy enemies." Exhausted in the debate, you wrinkle your face and squint your eyes, still laboring to wipe out the sweat from your blushing cheeks.
"He who hast nearly defeated my master is no friend to me either." He speaks again and again on your defense. “He who hast caused my master's face grow weirdly red in color and grossly wet in texture is no friend to me either. For he has hurt both of us. He should be chastised by me."
Now, as you clear your throat and open the lips' blade slightly ajar, your truest servant causes a great damage to your supposed friend or opposing foe, jumping out in angered haste. He does that with so impeccable a precision that he can in two shakes of a lamb's tail defeat all of your frienemies, which is half friend and half enemy or a full fledged enemy under the skin of friendship. But right word, I say, must jump out at the right time.
When your frienemies are too overwhelmed, then you, who had almost lost the battle if it were not your good servant, say "Word! Long live! Thou savest my life!" You joyously smile at the act of Word. You watch in pride while our adversaries draw a distanced line with their trembling feet. They vanish, keep on watching, then from your vicinity almost for the eternity.
You again say: "Word! Love live. Thou savest my face and hence my grace."
"But I am only thy servant, Master!" in return Word speakth.
"There’s something in Word! murmur you; and what follows is silence.”

Dew fell; Cocks crew; light came; and the cosmic teacher disappeared afterward.

Rabindra Govin
Last edited by rock22 on Thu Nov 11, 2010 8:43 am, edited 3 times in total.

kazi
Posts: 978
Joined: Mon Jun 29, 2009 11:55 am

Re: Word!

Postby kazi » Sun Nov 07, 2010 11:59 am

Just as the saying goes, "a barking dog rarely bites" I believe that one who shakes a spear rarely will impale another. And that is how the world moves on because otherwise that one would be an outlier and though acknowledged, outliers are generally disregarded statistically speaking. Either way there is not much significance for barking dogs and spear-shakers.

I think what is more significant is art and science. Art and science are two seemingly distinct worlds, and yet they are bound to each other like two sides of the same coin. What is that coin? you might ask. That coin is life. Think about it.. whatever you can see, touch, feel, think.. whatever perception it is.. it is part of art or part of science. Writers write volumes of words about it.. readers revel in reading the words.. and thus words become a medium, a tool with which to convey the significance of life. Now, what in the whale am I talking about?

Well, thats the easiest question for me at the moment. What I am saying --- or rather, trying to say --- is that we need to focus on the core and not the peelings. What is crucial is life.. words are only a medium to communicate about life. But then we already know that, yes?
--
"Mother and motherland are more precious than heaven." But that does not mean we must cling to our mothers. The least I can do for Nepal is to bring awareness among the Nepali people. And this Nepali forum is the platform for me.

rock22

Re: Word!

Postby rock22 » Sun Nov 07, 2010 12:16 pm

Weird as it sounded, interesting it is nonetheless. Too warped to be called straight, like the fabric of space twisted by a massive gravitational body. Words are sacred; words are profane. They are both. My point is word more for pleasure's sake.
If your "subjectivism" is a preliminary reconnaissance to bring forth an elaborate attack, I have nothing to say. Make weapon out of reason, to logic mash up and make a gelatin-ball, and fire into the horizon at disgust where my words are bridging the sky of science with the land of imagination; have an intent to either bring them down as does a sniper his victim or etc.
Barking dog may seldom bite, but the kindest of Gods sometimes growls.

kazi
Posts: 978
Joined: Mon Jun 29, 2009 11:55 am

Re: Word!

Postby kazi » Sun Nov 07, 2010 3:25 pm

A man that I greatly admire, an honorable man, once told me, "Thousands can have opinions, but only a few can have ideas." Words like these serve as a foundation on which I build my world. And it is by these words that I admire your words, @rock22. Your words fire up our imagination and help us fill the chasm of realism, making it as surreal as the reality of our perceptions.. a reality that spans the worlds of science and art... a reality that gives life its meaning.

That said, words mean nothing and yet they are the basis of all that was and is and will be. Words are neither mine nor yours, neither his nor hers. Words are divine. And why is that? How can the same word be white and then black. How can the same word be the salt of the earth and the charred waste of hell? I shall leave with these questions because I know that every man, every woman knows the answer at the core of their hearts.
--
"Mother and motherland are more precious than heaven." But that does not mean we must cling to our mothers. The least I can do for Nepal is to bring awareness among the Nepali people. And this Nepali forum is the platform for me.

kazi
Posts: 978
Joined: Mon Jun 29, 2009 11:55 am

Re: Word!

Postby kazi » Wed Nov 10, 2010 7:09 am

We all know the story of Vaalmiki. Raa + Ma gives you such a beautiful word.. Raama. But if you put it the other way round its meaningless.. maraa. Nevertheless, it was the word "maraa" that really brought enlightenment to Vaalmiki. And yet, if you really think about it and disregard the religious aspects, does either "raama" or "maraa" have any meaning in itself? It is meaningless. What gives *Raama* its significance is the life of an honorable human being. Whenever we hear the *word* we associate it with the life of an ideal human being. The word, despite its meaninglessness, becomes divine... Raama... there is so much beauty in the word.
--
"Mother and motherland are more precious than heaven." But that does not mean we must cling to our mothers. The least I can do for Nepal is to bring awareness among the Nepali people. And this Nepali forum is the platform for me.

rock22

Re: Word!

Postby rock22 » Wed Nov 10, 2010 8:35 am

hahaha...The flare of imagination and perception about you is incredibly ineffable. U can shoulder along a great heritage of ancient historical phenomenon, also called culture. I always notice a spark of analytical flint in your words which, when rubbed even at the lowest magnitude, is capable of setting our soul in the fire of wisdom. U mythical Prometheus! How could you steal the fire of myth! Who was the one to help you steal the fire? Amazing Kazi; Kazi Amazing!

kazi
Posts: 978
Joined: Mon Jun 29, 2009 11:55 am

Re: Word!

Postby kazi » Wed Nov 10, 2010 1:43 pm

Nothing happens but through the omnipotent.. the one, the only one. Kazi or not, wisdom is bound to grow in the chains of change. And the eagle of time continues to perpetuate our wisdom each day in every way. Yes, that is inevitable. But what gives our lives significance is the choice of life. Everyone must choose and it is our choices that make us men, or otherwise. Even Zeus had to choose. And the day will come when time will transform into Kaal and end the aquiline perpetuity. And on that day, neither kazi, nor Zeus will remain; but what will remain are the words and the perpetuity of those words.

To answer your question, it was you who inspired kazi to steal the fire and give it to the world. Rest in peace.
--
"Mother and motherland are more precious than heaven." But that does not mean we must cling to our mothers. The least I can do for Nepal is to bring awareness among the Nepali people. And this Nepali forum is the platform for me.

rock22

Re: Word!

Postby rock22 » Wed Nov 10, 2010 10:41 pm

hahaha...the hatched has been already buried. If your words are a strumming piano, it's the tonal quality that I could perceive. The hatched has been buried.

kazi
Posts: 978
Joined: Mon Jun 29, 2009 11:55 am

Re: Word!

Postby kazi » Thu Nov 11, 2010 12:43 pm

just as Herakles slayed the eagle and freed Prometheus, let the hatchet be redeemed. The *tandav* of Mahadev not only buries a cycle but also prepares the basis for the next life for words. The divine perpetuity of the word is eternal. As they say in the West, the show must go on.
--
"Mother and motherland are more precious than heaven." But that does not mean we must cling to our mothers. The least I can do for Nepal is to bring awareness among the Nepali people. And this Nepali forum is the platform for me.


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