The Boy who spoke in Idioms

 I am not exactly the social type, and I am not really proud of it, but it is these limited set of social exposures which almost always brings me in contact with people whom otherwise I would have rejected as out right social outcasts.

I vividly remember the first encounter. It was wee hours of a chilly January, and I was out on one of my usual "Think in the stillness of the night" strolls. I don't quite recollect the topic of my mental misery that morning, but it was intense. I would occasionally mumble arguments to the pressing thought experiment, and shake my head in disagreement as the argument failed to justify the premise.

"I can offer a penny for your thought." The voice startled me out of my self imposed isolation.

I was so deep in my own head that I had not noticed any one else sharing the trail with me.

"Oh, Its nothing, just some philosophical arguments to keep me busy while I hike along the trail."

"Your mumbling caused a stir, now I am all ears with ants in my pants".

He piqued my interest and I decided to share with him the topic of my mental discourse, and at his requests, my self centered mumbling was turned into a louder monologue with an occasional contribution from the stranger on the trail. The stranger  was a young boy in his early teens, with a face full of patchy pubescent growth, and occasional pitch shifts in the voice.

The chance meeting soon became a regular event,  because we both lived in the same neighborhood, and he took the trail every day that time to collect his newspaper deliveries.

He was not exactly the mouthy one, and I realized why we could comfortably share the trail every morning. He loved to listen. He was silent most of the time, but on the occasions when he spoke, he would always be on point. My mental monologue now had an audience and a critique, and I soon realized the lengths I could push my arguments, thanks to a second brain. I slowly started enjoying the company, and this went on for a while.

Life in most cases blind sides you, and in my case it was in the form of a transfer. By the summer I had moved to a new neighborhood and soon my mornings were back to the old "isolated in my mind castle" strolls. I would not deny that I missed having someone add colour to my arguments, we humans choose to move on, and I did the same, but having some one to share the thoughts and conclusions was something I dearly missed.

I soon found a stage where I could share my profound thoughts, and soon had quite a following at my work place. My colleagues had become my sound boards and loyal audiences. This facade went on for a while, until I overhead a water cooler conversation, where some one was really annoyed with the constant showers of "intellectual fallacies" forced upon her. I confronted her, and gave her the stage. Her responses really stunned me. She said and I quote "You are not exactly the philosophical sod you believe your self to be. A kid armed with Idioms can add more to your arguments, than you can with all your knowledge."

Her words brought back what I had forgotten. 

I missed the boy who spoke in idioms.

Idol

Well its been a long time since I wrote something nifty and useful, and I guess I won't be doing that yet, but somehow, I realized who my idol was. There was a time when I was so confused with the "You need a role model to look upto and grow", well I was always kind of a guy who din't want an Idol or a role model to look upto. Basic reasons : Never found any one good enough for me to look upto, and remarkably that same characteristic is shared by my Idol. He doesn't look upto any one, he looks upto himself.

So what makes my Idol so unique.

I never wanted to grow up, to be a person who was driven by emotions, and instead wanted to be a person who saw reason in everything, ( well there are always exceptions, and I believe I won't be repeating my mistakes again.)

I had to let go of Gandhi, he was way too non practical. Well I liked his idea of non-violence and self sacrifice, but he used to put a lot of people in harms way to get what he wanted ( not saying he was a selfish being, but still).

Then as a christian I have the Christ himself to idolize, but still, he was way too philosophical and always had a wrong and a right and was never ready to compromize.

Then came the hardcores as I got into music, but again they had no reason or no logic. It was all emotions and feelings and frustrations out in the form of music, so I couldn't idolize them either.

I had an option of idolizing someone real, but again my ego won't allow that, knowing that all of my idols would die one day, or are already dead. So I wanted my idol to be immortal.

I listed down some of the characteristics which my idol should have. ( well its stupid, but I am enlightened.)
1. Immortal
2. Not driven by emotions while making judgement.
3. Practically with a high IQ.
4. Some one who won't do something wrong or non righteous. ( That puts out all the brilliant villains - including Joker, out of the list.)
5. Some one who has no attachments as such, yet would do anything for the ones about whom he cared.
6. Some one with a good taste in music.
7. Some one who loves to know about things, yet makes sure he isn't cramped up with information.
8. And a genius in his own field.


Well knowingly or unknowingly I have idolized this man who satisfies all of the above characteristics, and have somehow scripted my own likes and dislikes based on them, So yes I have an Idol, whom I look upto and who inspires me to be me, yet isn't real enough to make people say "Oh look there goes another one of his kind, he was great, but these posers just ruin his credibility.".

I look upto my self.

Untitled

World is so morose, lives in despair,
pointing fingers do they die,
Saying, Why? But Why me?
Do they ask, but still they die.

Rude are those who point fingers at others,
Rudeness does run through their veins,
I didn't point a finger yet, so I can say,
That I am not the herald of rudeness.

He cries, prejudiced is the world against me,
So do I die in despair, Or do I Live in peace,
But he chose to die in despair, and let the peace be
For the world was the only thing that he cared.

Puker Face.

Puker face, puker face, I so hate you puker face.
Why did you venture into the terrains of terror?
For the night is long, Days are gone.
And still the raven rants on the spoils of her day.

...Oh puker face, Oh puker face, you are so speechless.
But why did you open your mouth in the terrains of terror.
For the days are yours, but the night is mine.
And still you want to linger here for the stay.

Speechless does he stand, waiting for the gates to close,
He is lost and trapped in the terrains of terror
For when the night comes and day bids farewell,
Who will save you from the wrath of the Raven.