October 08, 2005

The philosopher and the juvenile

At one’s oak and teakwood table
As one settles down to wonder
A blinding flash, and suddenly one
Does find oneself torn asunder.

One finds oneself torn asunder
Now do Two sit side by side
Two sit where one formerly sat
At the desk one occupied.

Little Boy, in shorts and T-shirt,
Clutching dog-eared Tinkle tight
Other One with golden aura
Rather an imposing sight.

Side by side they sit in silence
At one’s desk of oak and teak.
He’s somewhat scared of Other, but
The Little Boy ventures to speak.

“We started little bloggy-woggy
Several times we writing here
But it’s true, me not so good as
Better ones on blogosphere.”

Looking up from Plato’s works
He looks at Boy with kindly eye.
Taking off those half-moon glasses
Other One deigns to reply.

“Youngling, thou must but remember
Blake spake, I reiterate
Thou shalt not reason or compare
Thy business is but to create.”

“But me cannot help it, Sir,
Teeny-tiny straws me clutch.
Even little compliments still
Mattering so very much.”

“Dear child,” Other rejoined,
“Kipling said, and I repeat
Remain quite the stoic thou must
Both in triumph and defeat.

“Thou must, wee neophyte
Heed immortal Socrates.
Examine thy life, he averred
Have faith in his expertise.”

“Me no wanna think too much, Sir
Messes up me little brain.
Me want to go play outside now
Hide and seek and choo-choo train!”

“Life’s a struggle, O Little Boy,
“Choice, dilemma, forks and twists
No attachments, quoth the Gita
Self-interest, said Objectivists.”

“But me very attached, good Sir!
Me love Mummy-Daddy so
Me like many uncle-aunties
Even little girl next door.

“Me like Narnia, me like Blyton,
Me like my old Targets too
People telling, now me big boy
But me liking, what to do?”

“Thou art fully-grown, my child
Do not partake of puerile fare.
Thy reading habits, first of all
Need some inspection and repair.”

The two alter-egos merge
Blinding flash of light, and then
Emerging from the brightness, blinking
One finds oneself whole again.

Such debates unfold whenever
One thinks over things worthwhile
Dichotomous opinions of
Philosopher and juvenile.

22 comments :

babelfish said...

aaaaaww...
One is in love with The One.
no wait, that sounds more complicated than it's meant to.

Me is not accusing you of being a neo-narcissus, instead you shall take this comment as declaration of erm, well, probably declaration of intent to read and harass with endless comments :D

I'm all liquid-eyed with admiration *bats eyelids vigorously* and you read Narnia(!!! + more vigorous batting) What can I say but "aaawww"

One in a Billion said...

Umm. Err. Well, Babelfish is most welcome to read and harass with endless comments. It is much appreciated.

Glad you liked the post. One thought it got a bit too personal, sentimental even. But maybe that's a good thing.

Sheetal said...

Oh this was sooo cool. One without the other is no fun at all.

One in a Billion said...

Thanks, Sheetal. Yup, having them both around sure does make things interesting.

the still dancer said...

Dare one say, (one, One may take note, and not One), mesmeric. One has set one contemplating on novel titled the twoness of One. But then, one has to be the One, one guesses, and that, one is told, is like being in love: one cannot be told, one just knows, or should that be One just knows. Oh well...

One in a Billion said...

Ah, Kaashyapeya. Utterly lambent, dare One say.

Fear not, O cadent confrere, for One shall collaborate with one on the contemplation of said Book. Thus shall one be spared the ignominy of having to be the One, which, at the best of times, is still an ignominy. Except when One's in love, of course.

sinusoidally said...

Rather interesting.

babelfish said...

Me is terribly uncertain as to whether the one is of an age where this babe(y)lfish should offer to do pronam and all that but granted the amount of growling the one has been upto I shall simply say bijoyar shubhechha o antarik bhalobasha

And I know the one is non-bong but well if the Teach yourself Dutch in 48 hrs didn't work, here all you gotta do, is grab the nearest blogger and ask :D

One in a Billion said...

Sinusoidally, thanks. Rather!

Babelfish, one is about two years older than thyself (how neat, no? Plis to keep in mind) so pronams may well be dispensed with .. unless you insist, of course.

And one can kind of guess what that means .. bijoyar shubhechha to you too.

babelfish said...

Pronams have been duly done away with and two year age gap has been carefully noted therefore all that is offered is the priti o bhalobasha :D

Twilight Fairy said...

I bow down to thee,
such is the charm in your poetry

Whilst I didnt climb all steps of the Eiffel,
Your poem's depth certainly makes the height of it trifle.

:)

One in a Billion said...

Well, Fairy. Thanks a lot! :)

Ash said...

Lovely :)

One in a Billion said...

Ash: Thankoo. And welcome :)

Rhyncus said...

Damn, you reminded me of those Targets.

One in a Billion said...

Rhyncus : Ahh, yes, those Targets ..

m. said...

bloggy-woggy?! shooooo cute! :))

One in a Billion said...

M. : Ha ha .. yeah, that makes one smile too, now that one reads it again!

And it's immensely gratifying to know that the archives aren't simply gathering dust. Thanks.

m. said...

oh the archives certainly arent gathering dust - short of making a little lapel pin, everyone around me has sort of been hearing about your blog rather a lot! :))

One in a Billion said...

Gosh. Er .. nice things, one hopes.

tangled said...

Oh. Oh. Oh.
This is why people invented the internet.

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