July 28th 2019

July 28, 2019
Morning Daffodiled into a song. A chorus of hymns floated through the sky. All is delight with me. I thank God Jehovah for giving me blessings. Time moved on at a musical pace.

I want to write about some reminiscences I spent at Varkala beach, a virgin beach in Kerala. The waves are soothing balm and waters are tranquil. Just overlooking the beach is a hill called Sin Looser Hill a very strange name. I had in company with me an English Woman called Susana. Actually she was half Indian and half English and she had a wheatish complexion. Early in the morning we strolled across the hill with gentle monsoon breeze caressing our cheeks. There were lots of foreigners ambling with us. Watching the music of the sea, splaying waves across the coast line was so sumptuous. A man came and queried is as to wanting a pouch. Soon it became clear to us that he was selling marijuana. We took a packet a small pouch and paid him 100 Rupees. We lit a cigarette and happily contemplated nature. Later on we had a rich delicacy at Mama Choms, a restaurant run by a German couple. It was made of Bacon Toast, Eggs and tomatoes. After having eaten breakfast we strolled on the beach. We came to a most amazing bookshop which had books in all the languages of the world. You can exchange your book and pick another from there. Susana picked Harry Potter from there and I picked Derrida’s Writing and Difference. Susana was not philosophically inclined. Susan wore a bikini and she ran in to catch the waves. I too followed her in eager delight. We spent a whole day up to evening on the beach. Our night was passionate poem. We made love like blossoming flowers. The bed became a sensual flower of ecstasy. Varkala has made a man out of me. It has bolted the experience of me to be a writer. I was able to happily live my fictional self.

Assorted Drabble

Assorted Drabble
This is a strange story that I heard. While the Vietnam War was going on a missionary went to Vietnam to preach the gospel. He had a translator. Later on the missionary went back to USA. The translator was arrested for his Christian belief. Feeling all is lost, he began to experience woe. In prison he was asked to clean toilets. While cleaning toilets he came across pages used as toilet paper. To his surprise it was pages from the Bible. He washed the shit of the pages and read the scripture avidly. This comforted him a lot. Later on he was released and he escaped on a boat to Thailand. His papers were ready and he immigrated to USA as a refugee.

This happened when my uncle died. I and my brother in law went to his house to bring the things. At that time it was raining and rain seeped through the door into the kitchen. When we looked into the puddle of water, to our surprise we found an image of Uncle’s face.

While I was reading the psychiatrist Jung’s autobiography: Memories Dreams and Reflections a strange thing happened. I was reading about the alter ego of Jung, an archetype called Philemon. I went to attend a phone call. To my surprise, the candle fell on the book and caught fire. Very large parts of the book were burnt.