This poem is actually written for my neighbours Mr. and Mrs. K, whose marriage never seemed successful to me. They would be better off with other people, but that is against Indian culture, and they stay together, even when it never works out. Mr. K told me yesterday that he wanted to replay his old college days and live that life again. If he did so, he’d never have to marry Mrs.K again. Both of them have their life ruined, because they don’t help each other in anything, they live as strangers in the same house. They’re old now, and nothing can be done after this.
The Daily Post had been asking the bloggers: Open your nearest book to page 82. Take the third full sentence on the page, and work it into a post somehow.
Forgive me, I linked this post to a wrong place and the ping-back thing had not appeared at all yesterday in wordpress… But now that I’ve noticed, I’ve changed the link…
The last time the Daily Post had asked me to look at a random sentence in a book, I had been lazy and took out an ebook, and wrote from that. I didn’t even have a book nearby. But today, however, I had a book at arm’s length. A very dangerous book, though — Linear Integrated Circuits, because I don’t even know what to write about it. Anyway, I hoped that I’d get some text about a transistor or something, and I’d write a little bit about it and somehow escape.
But do you know what I found on page number 82?
That’s right, I found this. I never expected something of this sort to pop up, given that I haven’t touched this book in years (then you must be asking why exactly this book was on my table? I really don’t know why I took it out… I kind of missed it a teeny weeny bit, maybe… but I never once opened it… and it lay there for weeks like that).
Now, let’s zoom in a bit before we start our story. I have a mobile that doesn’t have a camera (for now), and my mother’s phone has a basic camera, and I never once in my life enjoyed the high-definition-photography experience, so you might not be able to look at the above picture without hurting your eyes. I’ll take another picture of the thing I want you to see in the page — in a close-up view. With the same ol’ Nokia phone of my mother’s of course…
So, here… I see three transistors in the circuit. Do you see them? They’re the little things that look like vessels that can hold water temporarily, to be simply put. You do see one transistor at the left, and the zig-zag line beside it, don’t you? Meet Res, the sweet li’l resistor and his step-mum. Two others are on the right side, and labelled Q2 (the lower one) and Q3 (the upper one). You might have a bit of difficulty spotting the letters in this photograph, because Nokia’s excellent in its own way, providing me security and privacy from the cyber-strangers that are my blog readers. After all, you cannot let strangers look at your photos… It’s smart, in its own way, but no one ever acknowledges it as a ‘smartphone’, my mother’s yellowy Nokia, while the other phones that disclose their master’s/mistress’ top secret photos clearly, giving no room for imagination, the poor unimaginative, traitors of the cellphone owners are often celebrated as the smart ones.
People keep on misunderstanding the non-touchscreen, less-than-2-mega-pixel-camera phones. After all, as they say, it’s not where’re you’re born. It’s about where you die, about how much you’ve accomplished on earth. And my phone is not dead yet, (third hand and working better than it’s touch-screen counterpart) and has lived on this earth for many years without diagnosis or treatment, unlike one of its young, touch-screen counterparts, which is right now in its coffin.
They say it’s of 2 MP — MP is for Mega Pressure, and is a measure of how much pressure the cellphone’s owner is likely to face. Other touch-screen devices cause much more Pressure to their masters and mistresses, for upto 8 MP, but at the end of the day, those stupid phones are the most celebrated ones. Strange are the ways of the world… Shutterstock photos don’t come with a watermark for nothing! Shutterstock knows how to protect its stuff… and so does my mother’s phone. Conceal is the new cool 😀
Anyway, I think I have lost my cute little transistor triplets while trying to defend my mother’s camera, because dear Q2 here is running towards Q1 (the one clever transistor in the left that did not disclose its name to you earlier).
“How could you do this to me, Q1? It was I who had given the brilliant idea of adopting the homeless little resistor, but how could you keep him all by yourself?”
“Do you want me to tear him down to two so that I can give you a half, now, Q2? Oh, come on! Grow up, don’t you!”
“I will never send you the divorce papers unless you promise me to give the poor li’l resistor back to me… after all, I wanted to have him first.”
“It’s not a matter of being first in doing something, Q2, it’s all about who Res needs right now. Even if you appeal to the court, I know that I’ll win the case. All judges are known for placing the child under their mother’s custody.”
“But you’re not his mother, Q1! We still have –“
“Stop bothering about me and get lost, Q2. Never ever stand in front of me again. Didn’t I tell you this already?”
“No Buts. You marry your darling Q3 as you had planned and have as many Resistors as you can with that stupid excuse of a transistor. Now leave.”
“But, I wasn’t –“
“Oh yes, you were.”
“I didn’t even mean –“
“Oh yes you did, Q2! There’s no point in defending yourself after you’ve come this far.”
“Mama!” cried the silent Resistor from beside.
“Oh, Resistor honey, I forgot to feed you! Wait a minute, I’ll switch on myself and allow the current to your side.”
“Oh, shut up, you traitor. Get away! Run to that deceitful Lady Q3 of yours.”
“Ma! Isn’t that supposed to be… um… Papa?”
“What’re you talking about, hon? There’s no such thing as that in this world. Who keeps teaching you nonsense?”
“There’s no such thing as Papa?”
“Then why does that transistor-man often visit this house? You aren’t having any illicit relationship with him, are you?”
“Air-headed Ungrateful Resistors be damned…”
“What did you say, Mama?”
“You look absolutely handsome in your new tri-color rings, honey!”
Watching a couple’s relationship spiral down to dust, I wrote this poem. They weren’t made-for-each-other, but they still manage to live together and smile, just because they love their daughter quite a lot. They’d rather torment themselves than see her frown.
What a wonderful pair indeed! Love, sometimes, comes from somewhere you don’t expect. Not from each other, but from the happiness of someone else they didn’t think of while they got married… Anyway, they never quite spoke much to each other. Though the couple were adjusting, living in the same house, their relationship could not be repaired is what I came to find out. I often drop by for a chat with Mrs. K, but Mr. K doesn’t talk much to me.
A relationship so frail and tight…
Like the glass of my window pane.
A bond that’s broken beyond might…
Like a boulder on the mind of the sane.
Of a non-existent love, of extreme spite…
Like the nothingness amidst sheer pain.
As strict as a customary rite…
Like all things mundane.
An expression of apathy, subtly arousing fright…
Like the barren mainland bearing cocaine
A long-lost faith, kindling dreads of the night…
Like the dirty waters of the polluted oceans lain.
A desperate attempt to make things right…
Like a coin running down the drain.
Yet, lost to the winds in plain sight…
Like a villain on a fine day slain.
Finally, a sorrow-drenched figure comes to light…
But, who is to blame?
Divorce is definitely a topic meant for discussion. Why do couples split? What makes them desperately want to get out of that house, leaving even their children up to their fate?
I personally feel that there should be mutual understanding, before a strong bond could form between a man and his wife. Lack of mutual understanding and care are a few things that keep a couple from being perfect.
But now-a-days, people refuse to understand the feelings of their spouse. Disregarding the feelings of their partner, they trigger anger, which in turn lead to fights, and even possible divorce. When there are children in the family, they get mentally affected by what their parents do—quarrel every day.
When a person does not even care about what their partner does, and if they continue traveling in their own paths, their paths are never bound to meet. Furthermore, when couples beat up each other, causing a ruckus in the house, the children are bound to be affected, too. Their mentality will totally differ from that of the other children surrounding them, which may earn them loneliness and a negative mind.
Constant conflicts between partners can affect one or both of them psychologically, driving them into depression. Sometimes, even an early age, kids suffer from depression because of the environment that their home provides. Some children even come home late, after killing time outside after their classes, so that they need not watch another episode of what they didn’t want to. Some children even get the thoughts of running away from the house.
Poor relationship mostly results in divorce, but sometimes, the when they live together for the sake of their children, they might get totally vexed living with their so-called ‘partner’ and some might even have suicidal thoughts as they suffer constant torcher.
Hate is not the opposite of love; hate is love gone bad.
The true opposite of love is apathy.
And this apathy results in nothing but divorce, as they have nothing more to do with the person they live with. Such unfortunate people, along with hurting their own lives, spoil the lives of the little kids, too.
But, whenever there is mutual understanding between two people, then it can be said that they can easily build a strong relationship. Children belonging to such families would benefit more, as they are often showered with love and affection, thus resulting in a more happy personality and a healthy attitude.
So… Is there something that can be done to stop the wrong people getting married, or is there a remote possibility to make each of them realize what the feelings of the other were, so that they could strengthen their bond?
Akila Krishnamurthy, the blogger, is a passionate writer, someone hoping to write a masterpiece someday and live away her life in the proud moment of displaying it to the world. She can be easily classified as an 'introvert', but there is an extrovert within her who resurfaces every time she is with someone who makes her feel close enough. She lives in the southernmost part of India, and loves her carefree life there.