A grain in sand scape

After becoming nothing, I have started talking in the most beautiful manner

about nothing in many words. In my solitary prison, I cry HU HU, and write whatever

without error whatever my fingers punches; whatever I write - is language and I can't store.

Curiosity Rover in Mar too can't store. It has no option but send whatever that may be - low

resolution - black and white even if it is photograph of Pasadena CA, its birth place

and home town. Whatever it sends is beautiful and without option to be otherwise.

Distance in between filters whatever needs to be filtered since human being is not adult enough

for viewing XXX Movie. But it has to send and so am I. Its search is limited by 150 miles radius

till it breaks down or out of energy. My search is limited by Google. Both of us are writing for

terrestrial consumption to liberate 6 plus billion humans in this lonely planet at the

outer edge of milky way.

I may be considered already success I have been able to liberate two - at least one surely and

I can't mistake. One has already opted out of my mailing list. My wise and beautiful words shall

not reach them.

The place I am located - I have already described - it is all sand - same color -

same size and memory less. I tried to create any number of impression - as soon as I am done -

it is just not there. Here I can't go on in circles or straight lines or triangles and I shall never

know. I can't make foot print. I may search my memory all my time and I shall never know.

My pictures are all low resolution - I draw with all colors but what reaches anyone in the lonely

planet of 6 billions I would not know. I only come to know when one is liberated. I am separated

from the lonely planet by unbridgeable distance and a demon called God almighty it filters

whatever it pleases.

Once I wrote a million pages long epic story of million love and love making

with beautiful paintings of beautiful girls all smiling - handsome torso of strong and gentle boys

- the demon filtered everything but for nails and teeth and as for words everything but articles

- a an the.

I do not know what shall reach you from this time in low resolution - all because of that brainless

peon - call it by any name - almighty or demon or god - that occupies the vast space between you

and me. I have to write as fast as I can - I have to rush it through this only Peon since my birth

place and the island of domicile is memory less. I shall never know what beautiful words I just thought.

I write about TRUTH.

And TRUTH only.

I can't write anything else.

Truth is that the island inconceivably vast unlimited memory less and of same color and I live alone.

Every moment as soon as born in this island becomes another grain of sand of the same color. Each sand is indestructible although it is a moment only and past as soon as it is born and adds only to the vastness.

I take any one grain of this sand - I look at it closely - I see a moving episode of all color - a reality - a love - a living - an ecstasy - a grief - a frustration - a deception that touches my heart so much that I lose consciousness and the awareness of the sandscape that surrounds me. I cry out loud - "Why this deception Why this Killing Why this Pain - Why the reality could not be otherwise - a story of joy and sharing! Why human being is inhuman!"

Truth can't be otherwise.