The American Ritual Dance

Dear God,
With heavy hearts
We gather here
To say goodbye
To those who were taken away
At the prime of their lives;
(By our inaction but that’s another matter)
And send our condolences
To the grieving families,
May time heal their hurts,
(Sure time heals everything you know)
And make them whole again.

Phew, with that out of our hearts
It’s now time,
Let the barbeques begin,
And the donations roll in;
You know it’s not easy folks
To stand up for your rights
To bear arms
With empty pockets
Every two, four or six years;
Let the good times begin.

And while we are at it,
Don’t forget to remember those
Who gave up their lives
To protect your rights
To turn this land of
The free and the braves
Into killing fields,
With AR15s for one and all;
Don’t you fret,
We have judges who know
Which side to butter the bread;
Well, obviously they obfuscate
During the nomination process,
Lest they don’t get elevated.
(They are not politicians you know)

God willing we shall make this land
A prison soon,
With guns for one and all;
(Isn’t that what 2nd Amendment all about)
Let’s decree guns for the newborns,
Afterall we are the ones
Who stand up for their right to be born,
So that we have enough
For our target practices;
Remember, it’s not guns that kill,
People do,
So go and make merry as you like,
What did you say?
A knife?
It doesn’t kill that many,
AR15s that’s what you must have
To kill a deer unarmed;
We are a country of laws,
And we shall fight
With all our might
To preserve your right
To snuff out the light,
From young and old alike
With futures bright.

Ah, what you say,
Tears coming down our cheeks..?
(Must be the smoke from the barbeque)
Hey, don’t you blame the crocodiles,
They don’t come after their kids with guns,
You need a special breed for that,
We are Americans!
And you know for those who need
We have mental health,
(That we ourselves surely need)
But no, can’t deprive them also
Of their rights,
It’s a free country all right,
Except for the rights victims of rape and incest
To abort;
We are a great country,
Unique in the world
Remember that well on the Tuesday of November.
The list grows longer they say,
Well you know the more the merrier,
Gives us more opportunities
To come out and assure our constituents,
We stand with them dancing
The American ritual dance.

My dog one-upped me

It was a lazy summer day yesterday. After lunch I was sitting languidly on the sofa, dozing off from time to time, trying to decide if I should take a nap on the sofa or do something else like going to bed. In one of those blissfully sub-conscious moment my concentration was broken by the notification sound from my cell phone. Though I had made a promise to myself that I would not keep my phone anywhere near me while sleeping, I didn’t realize that the cell phone would find a loophole on that promise. Afterall  a nap is not sleep, so the phone attached itself to my hand as I was dozing on and off.

That notification was a message in our family WhatsApp group from my daughter who was sitting on another sofa near mine and was doing what girls normally do, scrolling through social media, texting, watching TV and more social media while engaging in her obsession during her stay at home. She takes photos of our dog Skooby constantly and then shares it wherever she can. Yesterday was no exception.

The summer heat must have contributed to my fuzzy logic, otherwise I can’t think of any reason why I succumbed to my temptation. That notification from my cell phone was of a message in Whatsapp with a photo my daughter had taken of our dog Skooby as he slept blissfully next to us. He didn’t have a cellphone to disturb his beauty sleep, a process in which I had enormous contributions from taking him out every morning and evening on his long walk and cooking his delicious dinner every evening. Well, to make a long story short, I uploaded that photo to my Facebook story with an one word comment and then forgot about it. So far so good, no issues. I went back to my dozing and Skooby kept on sleeping.

Come morning and my eyes were wide open. That photo of Skooby overnight garnered 10x more views that any of my Facebook posts ever got in a day. So unfair. I spend hours on writing a post and all Skooby did was just sleep. He didn’t even bother to take his selfie nor post his photo.

What do we call this? A picture worth a thousand words? Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder? Brief attention span of purveyors of the internet? I am having hard time to accept that photo of a sleeping Skooby beat my thoughtful compositions. Unless of course the world has gone to the dogs, a possibility I can’t ignore.

Meanwhile I am trying to explore ways how to train Skooby to write my blog to attract more traffic. Any suggestions?

A final phweet

The tweets from toilets were stopped,
The bully pulpit slipped away,
The swamp did not get drained, prisons did,
A final executive order revoked an earlier one,
Opening the flood gate to refill the swamp again,
Pardoned cronies will need a job,
What’s better for the alligators than the swamps of Washington,
After all the conman needs money to live his lifestyle,
Airforce One not his private jet any more,
His name in the dump, he schemes for a resurrection.

And a faded sunset beckons, hinting
A tarnished legacy,
Humiliation and oblivion.

Five Years Old Today

I can assure you that when I got up today morning, I had no intention of writing this post. Forget the morning, even ten minutes back I had no inclination that this post was brewing. I was happily preparing my lunch, boiling lentils for the ubiquitous daal, staple of many Indian households for lunch and dinner, when suddenly popped up this announcement on my cell phone. Thank whoever is up there that my betterhalf did not see the announcement first. She would not have had the patience to scroll down and would have shot first. No, not with a gun, we don’t own one, but I dread more the treatment that would have been meted out more than the gun shot that I  am sure she would have missed.

To cut to the chase, I am five years old today. No, not in physical age, I don’t even remember being thtyat old any more. I am five years old by WordPress calender and that’s the anniversary note that popped up on my phone just few minutes back.

And what a wonderful five years it had been. Brought to social media kicking and screaming, I now relish the wonderful friends I have met across all the continents of the world except Antarctica. I have not met any of them physically yet but many of those friendships I cherish. They make life worthwhile through their writings and comments.

So without much ado, and before my dall boils over(and to spare myself from a tongue lashing), here is to friendship and a long, fruitful journey together in the world of writing in WordPress.

Uncomfortable

In search of a comfortable place

To seat and write my masterpiece,

I forgot my pen and paper,

And carried the words in my heart,

That made me very uncomfortable,

Ah, when you need your cell phone the most,

Why is it always out of charge,

And now that it is fully charged and rearing to go,

The words have left my memory bank,

(did I say I was getting old),

So now I am sitting comfortably,

And spewing out rubbish to make you uncomfortable,

(like the one tweeting every morning from his toilet seat).

Irreverrent Thoughts

I doubted thee,
why everything in pairs,
thought spectacles
were invented
because of two ears.
now I know,
two ears are there
to wear the mask.
so covid-19 was
in your plan before?
will never doubt thee,
now if you tell me,
what else are in store?
some would say
I’m irreverent,but
I know you know,
my tongue in cheek
does make sense, now
I scratch my head,
why only
one tongue though?

Friday Babble

The internet medical sites have produced a group of self taught medical experts with little knowledge that is a dangerous thing for their spouses forced to bear the brunt of that faulty education creating a deep divide in society between the hypochondriacs and the others driven to near insanity by the well meant incomplete information.

How Here has changed

Here,

Like the “buck stops here“,

Does not mean the same anymore.

Oh, how the world has changed!

And some will make us believe,

With that,

Has changed the English language.

Now Here does not mean here,

But means everywhere except Here.

And in the process

If a few bucks changes hands,

Sorry, I mean pockets,

More power to those conversant

In the art of the deal,

Unless you do not know.

Or as someone would say,

That’s the story of life, folks.

Now where was I?

Not here I suppose.

A small price to pay

A tongue in cheek look at the fear spread by COVID-19. No intention of hurting anyone’s sensitivity.,🙏

My nose twist and tinge

But I am afraid

To sneeze

What will people say

I squirm

Shift my weight

From one leg to the other

A dead silence

All around me

The circle of

Social distance enlarge

See few people with

Phones to their ears

Somewhere in the distance

Wails an ambulance siren

The thought of being

Quarantined

Races through my

Distressed mind

I try to shout

Guys, I am all right

But fear dries my throat

I feel a cough

Coming up my esophagus

Esophagus, is that right

But who cares

As I fight valiantly

To suppress my cough

My body reacts

A bodily function

So innocuous

Comes to my rescue

With a sound thunderous

An act performed in public

That would have mortified

Even the bravest soul

Brought a sigh of relief

To everyone all around

And I moved on

Thankful to the

Fabulous Air Recirculating Technique

That my body performed

Banishing the fear

Of imminent infection

Of Corona virus

From one and all

Relieved, everyone on

His or her way

The malodorous smell

A small price to pay

whyhistorymatters

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