The Prophylaxis

She sits, like an apparition, upon what seems to be a mechanical device of some sort. The Prophylaxis. Innumerable myths have grown around her, enclosing her like the shadows of the abandoned Crominic buildings around her. Little children are scared into an early bed time by her, their mothers forcing them to eat the horrible gloop they make, saying “eat your food, or else The Prophylaxis will have you for dinner.”

I remember my interest in her as a teenager. We would make clandestine trips to the edge of town from where we would take the bus to Crominis. It was a two hour journey in a bumpy bus, Elenia and I sitting close, holding hands. From Crominis it was another twenty minute walk to the place where she sits astride her obscure vehicle surveying as they performed intricate rituals around her. They said she was the image of god, given to us to show us the True Way. However those who believed so found strong opposition from The Church. Many of the leaders of The Way of the Prophylaxis have mysteriously disappeared, and her followers staunchly believe that the Church is responsible for these disappearances.

Elenia and I would sit on the crumbling stone wall, a little away from the makeshift pulpit, from where one of the leaders of The Way would give his sermon. If our parents ever knew we secretly attended the meetings we would hear no end of it, we would probably never be let out of our houses again.

I went through a phase where I almost became one of those many maniacal followers of the way who resorted to extremism to spread the True Way. Even though the early followers of The Prophlyaxis preached a non-violent approach, the modern followers were a violent blood-thirsty lot, carrying out orders from their superiors under the influence of various mind-numbing substances.

Today I’m glad that I took more interest in college and learning than in the teachings of The Way, for as I see it now The Prophylaxis is being used as a political tool. The unscrupulous new leaders of The Way no longer care about the spiritual message of The Prophylaxis, but they let themselves be used as pawns by our parasitic politicians.

We still don’t know what The Prophylaxis is: where did she come from? Who is she? Is she of our world? Is she of divine origin, or just an ancient prank? Her body structure in no way resembles the body structure of our peoples; her mount is unlike anything we’ve ever seen; there is no recorded history of where she came from yet references to The Prophylaxis exist in our earliest written documents dating back to many thousands of years ago. Long dead civilisations worshipped her as a god. Then with the spread of the Lutwigian Church the worship of the Prophylaxis was forgotten, until a hundred and fifty years ago when scientists exploring the Crominic ruins found her, and she was once again known to mankind.

Today I may not be a one the fundamentalists of The Way, ready to kill for her, but like them I am ready to die for her, she has become my life’s study. My perspective on The Prophylaxis might be scientific but I am still a Prophylactic Agent.

Ok another 15 minute piece and I couldn't resist a mild pun. This painting is indeed weird!

Office Correspondence

Dear Sir,

Hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to turn off the AC, or at least change the settings from polar to normal.

Yours truly,

The guy in the next cubicle.




Dear Sir,

Perhaps our failing postal system may have, by oversight, not delivered my previous letter to you, in which case I would be eternally indebted to you if you might lower the AC by say a notch or ten, so that those sitting around you may be saved from an icy grave.

Sincerely,

The guy in the next cubicle.



Dear Sir,

The reason I am writing this letter in pencil is because the ink in my pen is now completely frozen. This situation, I believe, might be remedied if we turned off the Air Conditioning, which is set to sub-zero. You might notice the anomalies in our office environment, like the harp seals and the penguins, which could possibly be due to these freezing temperatures.

Thank you for your co-operation,

Your colleague who is suffering from hypothermia.



Dear Sir,

Perhaps your unmarried father copulating with a polar bear was the reason you require such abnormal temperatures, but perhaps in the interest of your future you might want to reset the environment here, especially considering the fact that I have now acquired an ice pick and am quite well-versed at using it.

Kind regards,

Your agitated cubicle neighbour.



Dear Sir,

Hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to reduce the temperature on the AC, it's really humid and the pygmies are starting to annoy me. It would be best to comply ASAP, unlike the last employee who was unduly ‘terminated’

Yours truly,

The guy in the next cubicle.

Zosix and Camelon - 5

Mixed Emotions

It must be noted that restraining a dinosaur, albeit a singing dinosaur, who is under the influence of a powerful hallucinogen is no easy task, especially if he thinks he is being restrained by a large green fly, with ugly, red eyes. In this respect Zosix could not be blamed for resorting to a variety of wrestling manoeuvres before finally settling for a modified full nelson to keep the highly perturbed dinosaur from hurting himself, while Leia went into the forest to collect some herbs that would work as an antidote.

“No. Stay away. Get off me. Oh help me!” Camelon yelled, as Zosix flipped him over onto his back, and forced his mouth open so that Leia could stuff her medicine down the dinosaur’s throat.

“There, that should be enough for his size” said Leia, getting up and dusting herself “It should take a few minutes before the effects of the bumble fruit wear off”

It was a few minutes before Zosix could relax his grip on his flailing friend. Camelon’s functions slowed down, until he finally fell asleep. Zosix looked up at Leia, “Is this normal?” he asked her.

“Yes, it is” she replied, “He’ll be asleep for a few hours now, probably will have some weird dreams too, but he’ll be fine when he comes around”

Zosix stood up, (at this point he should have wiped his brow) and surveyed the scene – an empty hermit’s hut overlooked a sleeping dinosaur who looked like he had just been in a scuffle. He remembered that the main event of the day had been Baba’s disappearance, of course this was rivaled by Camelon’s hysterics which qualified as a deserving candidate for the position of main-event-of-the-day.

“We should get lunch, don’t you think?” Asked Leia.

Zosix shrugged, “I’m not really hungry”

“It is well past lunch.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m getting some fruit, would you like some?”

“No, that’s okay”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes”

“How come you aren’t hungry? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Alright, I’ll have something.” Zosix figured he might as well put on a show of ingestion, before Leia started asking more questions about his lack of appetite.

Leia disappeared into the forest, and came back a short while later, a variety of fruits, nuts, and roots in her arms. Zosix had made himself comfortable in his usual place around Baba’s fireplace. Leia placed her collection of lunch items on a flat rock. “These are good” she noted, munching one of the roots.

“I wonder where Baba could have gone.” Remarked Zosix, absently.

“I’m sure he can take care of himself”

“Yes, I guess you’re right”

“Aren’t you gonna eat?”

“Oh! Yes, that.” Zosix picked up something from among Leia’s assorted find and started chewing on it.

“So how long have you been living here?” Leia asked, “It’s so strange that I never knew you were here, of course I don’t come up here ever, except once, but I still like this place. Have you come down before? Oh I doubt! I would have known you were there if you had. It’s so nice to have met you, it gets awfully boring alone in the forest some times. I mean it’s not like playing with the forest creatures isn’t fun, but it gets a bit stale after a few thousand years. So what do you’ll do up here?”

Zosix looked at Leia who was concentrating on the fruit she had just bitten into. He had never met anyone like her. Of course Zosix had only really interacted with two people ever – Baba and Camelon; Leia was completely different from the two of them.

“So we can be friends, right?” continued Leia.

“Yes, we can”

“Oh, that would be so great!” Leia hugged Zosix, who was quite taken aback.

Three hours later and Leia was still chattering unabated, while Zosix listened intently. She had hundreds of interesting stories to tell (just like Baba). Zosix had learnt that Leia’s mother Gaya, was the spirit of the earth, and Leia had many sisters and brothers, forest sprites, water nymphs, and various other earth spirits.

Leia had just finished telling Zosix another story when Camelon started to stir. Leia decided to use this break to give her voice a rest and get a drink of water. She cupped her hands and drank from the spring, where it emerged from the rocks near the forest. Camelon awoke with a start. He rubbed his eyes clumsily with his stubby paws, and looked up at Zosix.

“Oh, Zosix” he yelled “I had such a horrid dream. I dreamt you had become a giant fly and there was this crazy girl with you who was going to kill us all, and there was a shadow monster and a giant dragon and…” At this point Camelon paused, for he had just seen Leia. “That’s her…that’s the crazy girl” he yelled, frantically pointing at Leia, “she’s going to kill us!”

“Calm down, Camelon. She won’t harm you.”

It took a while before Camelon was convinced of Leia’s non-villainous motives. But he finally, grudgingly accepted the fact that Leia was not out to kill anyone.

Zosix and Leia sat together staring into the sunset as the sky threw various colours at them, and ended in a grand finale of purple streaked with crimson. Camelon sat a little away from them, munching some of the fruits leftover from Leia’s lunch basket, eyeing Leia with suspicion, waiting for any action of hers that could be deemed murderous.

As the last bits of crimson disappeared from the sky to go show themselves to another part of the world, Leia stood up and announced that she had best go back to her forest.

“Why don’t you stay here? I guess we’ll be waiting for Baba, and we can get a fire going.” Zosix said.

“No it’s best I go back to my forest. Thanks for having me.” replied Leia, as she walked to the opening that led to the underground passage from where they had come.

Zosix asked her as she climbed down “Perhaps you will come here more often?”

“Yes I’d love that” Leia replied “you’ll can come to my forest more often too.”

Camelon grunted in the background, as Leia made her way down the passage.

An experiment with Vermeer (in 15 minutes)

The man says “Alas! What transgression is deserving of such a pestilence upon my soul?”

The maid says “Such a morning I ne’er did see.”

The man says “Why must it be my burden to take? Such a fair maiden to behold but once.”

The maid says “If it were for me to say I love him not, my heart would not let me.”

The man says “In my wanderings I have not once looked for love, but here a heart of a wonderous maid is given me”

The maid says “I know him not a mere moment, not even his name I know.”

The man says “Why must it be that though I know her not my entire being longs to be with her alone?”

The maid says “Yet if I were to lose this life but to see him once more I would”

The man says “My life past must have been filled with sin so great to loose so vast a fortune ere I found it”

The maid says “What fate is this that love found such be so fleeting?”

The man says “A fie on love if it such a thing be that lets not one’s heart be at ease”

The maid says “’twere I to meet him not, my soul no unction would need; nay I should rather live a moment in his knowledge than a thousand lives without him.”

The man says “Against all odds would our meeting again be”

Together they say “Yet I hope above all hopes together we shall be”


Here I am 9 seconds overboard, and with a rather sappy piece in my hands (on my word processor, more like). I tried to make it a period piece, I dunno how well that has worked, considering I didn't pay much attention to Shakespeare in school!

Head on to Criminal English to see some more prose via Vermeer.

Book Meme

As seen on Criminal English

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.

The only book in reach for me is The Penguin Book of Modern Indian Short Stories
The instructions lead me to the story Savitri by P.S. Rege

The sentence: You will say I have written nothing about myself, but I am still looking at things around.

Cool, huh?

Beauty

Red stone walls
Red no more,
Aged with moss, and home
To myriad creatures
Science knows not
And god knows more.

The coconut trees
Stretch on forever;
Home for snakes, that come
Inside during summer,
And birds that make
The table for dinner.

The house is old
but young as ever.
The sea outside, salt foam
To frolic in,
A meeting point
Of many rivers.

Shooting liquor bottles
Fifty feet away,
Using the air rifle, (for some)
From the porch
Under tiled roof
Is the best way to pass the day.

Time to relax
Time seems slow
This is beauty, in the home
Of god's own country.
Over here you never
Worry about how time will go.
Time you will never know.

Bored as Hell!

Old cartoon of mine. Don't diss me, please.

A Simple Experiment in Brouhaha

An electric nun's habit would be rather shocking, or so say the Beagle Baggle Bible Thumpers. Their constant professing of faith is a minor irritant, however with the right mix of pesticide and whiskey one can make merry for three nights without break.

My aunt underwent a sex change yesterday. She's now part of the Association of Avuncular Gentleman. Yoko Ono is their president, at least that's what he says.

It's not too often that you hear pigeons gurgling from inside the raptors, then again it's not too often that raptors eat pigeons.

We partied all night for the last three nights, in part due to the pesticide and whiskey, but also because the raptors are such avid dancers, and they also like Yoko Ono (well grilled). My uncle and two aunts (which were previously uncles who underwent sex change operations) decided, quite poignantly, that it would be indeed sad if I joined a monastery. I, however, choose the rustic life.

Pay me well and I shall not know what this madness need be ascribed to.

Stars

Twinkling.
Changing.
Radiating light of varied colour,
Reflected from infinite source.

Exhaling causes them to scatter
Randomly into space.
Forming swirling spirals
Due to the slightest movement of my hand.
The ripple moves further and further away
Until it has blended in.

Is this how God feels?
Watching the dust
Falling away from light into darkness.