Sunday, March 23, 2014


Midway through the flight from Delhi to Pune,
an epileptic bulge seemed to push me deeper

and deeper into my seat.Figuring your maleficent value
in a coach full of two hundred people, at twenty thousand

feet above the ground is extremely challenging.It is
probably less challenging however,to do it wrong.

As I murmured to myself-never again,the coach
rumbled-emanating from both sides a sound of

debilitating horror.Animated gestures of bladder
activity can make you nervous:so can the darkness

beyond the little window with faint lights
visible in it,probably as some consolation,

for the vague point of reference.I vicariously
closed my eyes,blacking out the immediate

area of danger,and unfocussed I reveled
in the thoughts of being untouchable by past

misery at such a height.


  1. This honestly (and frighteningly) addresses the situation confronting the diminishing mass of sentient beings on "our" dying planet.

    "As I murmured to myself-never again..."

    Manik, I've been murmuring that to myself for so long now, it's become reflexive habit.

    And then comes the never-again, again...

    No exit.

    And it's not just being trapped inside a hurtling tube of metal in the sky. We're all aboard something larger. I have not left terra firma in over two decades now. And I'm more terrified with each passing day.

    But down here... I can only say, Peace to you, my brother.

  2. Tom,
    That reflexive habit is something I have been at times 'high' to..This feeling of being trapped grows ever so strong,with or without that uncertain altitude..Peace to you to.

  3. I would like to say something a little more articulate and detailed than the following, but this is magnificent. There's a Quaker expression of agreement/assent: "The Friend speaks my mind." That fits here and this. Curtis

  4. Curtis,I'm pleased something fits here...because not a lot does..the rapid construction and deconstruction here is an allocation of practically unfit purposes alone..