Mentor Yogi

September Winds September, clutching to the iron rod sitting at the edge on a tempo roof as the vehicle rolls steadily and slowly - like a mesmerised ox - over the thick black road under the cover of tall eucalyptus tree, which are standing to either side of the road like royal soldiers escorting the regal procession. Green fields stretching as long as the eyes can see. The refreshing air. So - Village again.  The tempo was nearing the edge of Ramala and was picking up speed abruptly. The driver was in a foul mood particularly because half a dozen youngsters from Ramala had not only refused to pay him even a single rupee but also had spoken tersely with him. You can tell the intensity of burning rage inside him by the groan of the tempo's engine - now it was groaning like a mad bull.  Once the tempo get past Ramala, a soft music began to flow from someone's Nokia handset at full volume, "Suhana safar aur yeah mausam sahi" - this old time hit golden era song, never fai...

  In The Dark Dark marking the depth of night, stillness assuring its longevity, and stars its nakedness, while street lights marking the limit of its reign.  Through the specialized night vision floating hypothetical eyes and with an animal's hearing we scanned the world around us. The village beneath is all quiet and still, but alive like a hibernating animal in a deep sleep. Highway in the North, and not too broad road circling around the rest three directions marking the Amoebic shape of the village. Streets like arteries are stretching to the ends of the boundaries while some are disappearing within like capillaries. Midnight has approached and the village is all hushed and seem to be in a mysterious deep sleep.   Floating in the dark sea like a fish in the air, somewhere inside the thicket of black sheet, although the thicket of black sheet isn't the thing we needed to camouflage our presence since we have no material presence at all: no body, no sense, no noth...