"Once upon a time, not long ago, there was a herd of bards on an island. A ship wrecked on the island and all that survived was a lawyer. The survivor having survived surveyed the island to find the bards at its center. The bards being survivors of a shipwreck themselves, consoled the lawyer. They invited him to discuss their daily news, and the lawyer was apt to be their judge. They introduced to him a few pigs with wings and lions who barked and dogs which chirped and lots more before having him judge their news.
Letting him seated on a little rock, they started: "Would Blair make a better pm to England!"
Poor lives, the lawyer thought for the news was from the Times seven years ago, when their ship actually, wrecked.
The practical lawyer gave his judgment. He called upon the modern deuce, jumped into the sea and probably committed suicide."
Believe me the grandma tells tales as this. She an old social enthusiast married to a Lawyer, it wasn't difficult to see the difference in perception of events between pa and ma. Even when grandchildren were around. Even when arthritis hooked upon his nerves via bones and even when nobody else was around and even when nothing of these they knew would ever bother them or their grandchildren.
Grandpa read out greater things aloud to himself from the attic bedroom.
"rezgervashion , globalishashion, inflashion, countrificashion, blahblahblah bla blah; could have fought these foolzzs. they bunk their works for someone elses dinner."
Timely he repeated this, I noticed ma getting frustrated. Slowly she slid my head off her lap, put a momentary stop to the story and went to the attic bed. I heard shouts. Grandpa first explained the situation the 'other' world was in and Grandma gave humane reasons for the strike against low wages and mechanisation.
Wooosh, I thought, why, why and why? Neither I knew where very considerate of the situation. Neither of them had any reason expressing their views. Neither had to bother of these. Ma never paid more to the workers on the field, and pa always chatted on the fields with them, making sure it was all about himself and not them.
Why this pragmatic foolery, I thought but then I had to save the day often and a new topic came up the next day.
The lawyer and the bard.
The arguer and the humanitarian explainer.
Now that these instruments of expression decorate the pages of my diary, and pa and ma now arguing events upon the stars above, I see 'this' pa and ma in gangs, tagged up for compensational views and not practical actions- in our society.
Puppet Pa and Puppet Ma
(picture courtesy:
www.puppetshopper.com/puppetshop/GS4011_GS400)
Yes, to be precise- we lack actions, we become the genius in views-but we turn to be those reality shows precisely doing nothing pragmatic for the 'what' it is targeted at!
So I thought, I should teach a few pa's and ma's a few lessons. Or remind them of the mugged up lessons and alert them of 'the what and when' of what happens around. Or I should learn from pa's and ma's when my perspectives become mere portraits focused on a single self.
Lets try to discuss the situation and enjoy the chilly and the mango in landscapes and portraits and conclude at the hardheaded sense;
Good Morning
Letting him seated on a little rock, they started: "Would Blair make a better pm to England!"
Poor lives, the lawyer thought for the news was from the Times seven years ago, when their ship actually, wrecked.
The practical lawyer gave his judgment. He called upon the modern deuce, jumped into the sea and probably committed suicide."
Believe me the grandma tells tales as this. She an old social enthusiast married to a Lawyer, it wasn't difficult to see the difference in perception of events between pa and ma. Even when grandchildren were around. Even when arthritis hooked upon his nerves via bones and even when nobody else was around and even when nothing of these they knew would ever bother them or their grandchildren.
Grandpa read out greater things aloud to himself from the attic bedroom.
"rezgervashion , globalishashion, inflashion, countrificashion, blahblahblah bla blah; could have fought these foolzzs. they bunk their works for someone elses dinner."
Timely he repeated this, I noticed ma getting frustrated. Slowly she slid my head off her lap, put a momentary stop to the story and went to the attic bed. I heard shouts. Grandpa first explained the situation the 'other' world was in and Grandma gave humane reasons for the strike against low wages and mechanisation.
Wooosh, I thought, why, why and why? Neither I knew where very considerate of the situation. Neither of them had any reason expressing their views. Neither had to bother of these. Ma never paid more to the workers on the field, and pa always chatted on the fields with them, making sure it was all about himself and not them.
Why this pragmatic foolery, I thought but then I had to save the day often and a new topic came up the next day.
The lawyer and the bard.
The arguer and the humanitarian explainer.
Now that these instruments of expression decorate the pages of my diary, and pa and ma now arguing events upon the stars above, I see 'this' pa and ma in gangs, tagged up for compensational views and not practical actions- in our society.
(picture courtesy:
www.puppetshopper.com/
Yes, to be precise- we lack actions, we become the genius in views-but we turn to be those reality shows precisely doing nothing pragmatic for the 'what' it is targeted at!
So I thought, I should teach a few pa's and ma's a few lessons. Or remind them of the mugged up lessons and alert them of 'the what and when' of what happens around. Or I should learn from pa's and ma's when my perspectives become mere portraits focused on a single self.
Lets try to discuss the situation and enjoy the chilly and the mango in landscapes and portraits and conclude at the hardheaded sense;
Good Morning
No comments:
Post a Comment