Tomichan Matheikal's blog

You want me to be creative wearing the rigid straitjacket you’ve fabricated.  You fix the routine of my each day with sirens that bombard my mailbox. You started as my leader and turned slowly, Like a mythical insect drawing nutrition from some invisible god’s ignorance, Into a gargantuan monster whose shadow bedevilled my footsteps Wherever I went, whatever I did. And you chastise me for not being creative. Can a puppet be creative? Epilogue : “Being creative means being able to relax into uncertainty and confusion.”   [Fritjof Capra, The Hidden Connections ] Source

  Fiction Sangeeta expressed her surprise by an uproarious shout which made Prashant drop the plant he was holding.  “What a surprise!” She repeated that phrase until she reached near him and grabbed his hand shaking it wildly.   “What are you doing here in this forest?” Prashant took a while to overcome the shock of the encounter, its surprise as much as its boisterousness.  Sangeeta was his classmate during the undergraduate days when they both studied botany.  Plants were his passion while they were a “time pass” for her.  “Dad asked me to study something before I would be of marriageable age and I thought botany was the easiest to study.”  They were meeting now after a gap of over a decade.  Prashant was now doing a post-doctoral research on some endangered species of plants.  “Those apartments you see over there,” he pointed to the array of skyscrapers that blocked the sun on the adjacent hillocks, “are not meant for people deprived of homes.  They are me