Washing Cloths

Washing cloths is something I hate but can not live without. When I do that in the most conventional and primitive way the elements of my body anatomy warns me of rebellion. I do not have a washing machine and neither I am happy with what washing machine produces.

As a person who perspires a lot I let my cloths do a good job of absorbing the same. Besides I have nice smelling pheromones that make me not really feel uncomfortable about my cloths stinking.

Gone are those days when mom used to wash my cloths. I am amazed at the patience an average Indian woman has towards washing cloths and dishes. A mare thought alone of involving these two makes me cringe in fear. I am not talking about those women who live in the cities aided by technology assisted devices to take care of these chores are those who are rich enough to hire maids. It’s the small town women folk… especially house wives whose self abnegation devote their time and life for their family. They just now house a loving heart but have strong hands and mountainous patience.

Now I started washing my own cloths long back. The greatest paradox that kills me on either side is I love to wear heavy cotton cloths like denims. They feel so nice and comfortable and last my abuse in heat, sweat and dust. But the day I need to dunk them in a bucket of water makes me witness my own impending suicide looking squarely back at me.

And some times I placate myself extolling the benefits and virtues of muscular exertion that comes my way like a blessing especially when I am too lazy to work them out. Believe me… it’s the best exercise for my shoulders as they stretch and bulge in handling heavy garments that become further heavy by being wet. And my back bone supporting the jib crane like posture of mine and some times my derriere loses it cushioning properties and I scream ouch if the session goes too long.

The first stage is sitting in the torture chamber namely bathroom… that’s where I wash my cloths. Now days I became a little shrewd in washing cloths when they are in minority and allowing not them to become mountains. The soaping scrubbing wringing takes all of my accumulated energy. Then comes second stage where I try standing on my own back from sitting on my own ass. And to watch the confluence of my own sweat with dirty water draining down is an ambivalent emotion. I stand proud… Ouch… with my back screaming at me for the perennial abuse and I dip the cloths and rinse till the good old sticky soap leaves the sides. Bucket after bucket I rinse cloths till I find water clear enough to make me feel satiated in my lone venture.

As I load buckets with fresh water… rinse cloths in them and get the water dirty and dump the water in drain and again and again… then dump dirty water. I can not describe in words the pleasure to see each of my tormentors… Err… I mean…each of my garments comes out of bucket pristine clean and gape at me in embarrassed glee.

Enough… Now what???

Now what about cloths dripping??? I have a brilliant idea. I hang them in bathroom only. Drip drip drip… Tip tip tip... All night they lose their wetness and in the morning they are ready to get ironed.

By the way.. I always stock my cloths neatly preserved in some case. I hate loads of cloths hanging from hooks in my room.

Gosh… That’s what I do about my cloths and its hygiene…

What about you guys???

My Haiku...

Eloquent with mute appeal...

I stared at her as my heart thumped...

I love her...

(Happy Birthday to You Angel)

Live today

(Contribution of Deepa Shah From Mumbai Hang Out)

A squirrel joined the service of the King of the Forest, the lion. He did whatever work was given him, quickly and well. The lion became fond of him. "I promise you a cartload of almonds as pension when you retire". The squirrel envied the other squirrels in the forest because of their carefree life. He longed to run up and down trees and leap from branch to branch like them. Yet in pride, he loved to move with courtly dignity and boasted about his royal career. He often kept proclaiming thus. "I cannot leave the king's side even if I wish." He consoled himself with the thought that at the end of his career, he would receive a cartload of almonds, a food that few squirrels got to taste in their lifetime. "They will envy me then," he would tell himself. The years passed. The squirrel became old and then it was time for him to retire. The king gave a grand banquet in his honour and at the end of it, presented him with a cartload of almonds as he had promised. The squirrel had waited so long for this day but when he saw the almonds, he was seized with sadness. He realised they were of no use to him now. He had lost all his teeth.

Companionship

Companionship… is it necessary???

A topic raised by a friend who feels that she could live life alone and companionship is not essential. She thinks she could make amends with time related needs as age creeps in an irreversibly merciless way.

I was a bit baffled when I heard this question assuming that she is pointing out towards a companionship offered by life partner or companionship offered by friends, acquaintances, colleagues and relatives. My gut feeling says that she was talking about the former.

As such there is nothing left to explain the latter scenario. Friends, acquaintances, colleagues and relatives come and go. They leave their fondest memories in our hearts and go away else where… where they too would culminate their random journey by making someone a companion or life partner.

Hence I chose to talk about this side of the thought. I am not sure if I could be given the deserved honour to talk about it as I am not blessed with a companion per say. But I confirmed with my conscience that precipitated after thoughts, experiences, observations and intuition percolated in to this.

I witnessed the evil side and comfort level in equal proportions in a relation. It’s so adorable to watch two persons gauze deep in to each others eyes as if rest of the world cease to exist. It’s equally horrific to observe each of them wish why the other exist in this world.

But when we look in to core… a profound introspection within… we can deny not the conflicts and amends we make in every succeeding second. I live life alone. Pathetically alone… the moment I wake up and the second I drift in to sleep I need to make decisions. It some times makes life feel so miserable. Very strangely if we were to make decisions for others and if others make decisions for us we feel comfortable. It is an amazing reality.

I feel this is where companionship comes in life. It’s nothing to do with sexual congress or killing time on mutually interested topics or feeling some kind of superiority over the weaker points of the opposite person.

It’s like the ground beneath our feet. Without ground beneath our feel we can not imagine what orientation we are heading towards. It is an aplomb, a reference to every thing we attach and calibrate those thoughts over which we either are not confident or prefer not to think of. The way when we were kids we love our dolls in a fanatic way and behave as if they are worthless when we feel arrogant… and go hug and snuggle with them in bed to feel safe… even when safety is nowhere within reach.
The need for companionship in my eyes is based on our desire to share everything with a singular entity that’s not us. And as an obvious reflection the opposite person feels the same way towards us while she tries to precariously balance her own poise. Even a shy smile passed on between me and my companion in silence is the reason for me to discover and rediscover pride and joy in life.

It is also about those things we chose to ignore first and find out later at a personnel level.

Once upon a time in a management seminar I asked the professor about the need of supervision over any activity. My point was when every one is educated in an organized system with proven methods and raised in an almost similar social structure, why must one snoop over the neck of another.

The answer he gave me is so obvious and yet so elusive. The division of twenty four hours in a day if divided in to three segments shall have an eight hour slot for sleep and eight hour slot for job and the remaining critical eight hours is the door towards haven and hell. We are subjected to a range of congenial to contradicting emotions and their effects either in a peripheral way or a permanently set way. The rest of our routine shall be guided by the subconscious influences of what ever we experienced in these critical eight hours.

Now if I think a little beyond job… this aspect seem to be the force those so many imbalanced things in our lives. Our perceptions and responses can not be effective in 360 degree direction in a space with respect to all those forces nudge us out of the chosen trajectory.

Besides I feel a man and woman is by default created inadequate to be self sufficient. They take pride in their best abilities that some times or most of the times mask their vulnerabilities. The arrogance of a man that needs annealing and resilience that could be provided only by a woman. And the tenderness of the woman needs a protective embryo that could be offered by a man’s strength. By using the word strength on man’s side I am not implicating lack of strength on women’s side.

I feel so proud and privileged when I am made to feel that I am resourceful and able by a few females ranging from children to elders. Their immeasurable confidence in me actually boosts my confidence to the point of irreversible gallantry and a surprising discovery within me about my own potential.

The companionship we have been talking about so far is… this kind of companionship I am talking about.

Sure there are social dimensions and biological dimensions that come either mandatory or perk like. Sure people may have been either brainwashed or hypnotized to the point of not recognizing the innards of marriage as an institution. Sure law laid its own front doors and back doors in allowing a relation to consummate and breaking the same in diverse in the name of mutual incompatibility….

Companionship is an emotional need. The new born infant does not just look towards a mother who is ready to feed. The sense of touch and nearness coupled with an unspeakable language that gets communicated by sights, smell, sounds, touch and taste is….what the baby longs for… a different dimension of companionship.

The interaction with siblings, friends, neighbours, colleagues and people in general is another dimension.

As we head towards life’s unilateral journey… we need a companion for our own self… and become a companion for the other half. It’s a harmonious blending of different colours in a single streak of rain bow where one could not really draw the line of distinction between each color.

I am for companionship… though I regret to say… I am socially and financially not qualified to have a companion….

Anger

I am short tempered at an unpredictable moment. I usually oscillate between being placid and jovial in normal sense. Anger is something I hated and feared most when I was a kid. I encountered it in different forms from dad to teachers and used to cower in fear but some kind of foolishness always propelled me not to run away from it.

In my teen years while evolving my own philosophy I decided that anger is detrimental and useful to no one. I decided that I will never be dominated by this emotion what ever may come.

All these thoughts swirled around my psyche as long as I was in the protective shadow of my parents and one fine day I had to leave home and live far off. That’s when I started experiencing bouts of conflicts. Being alone and independent requires a perception in different dimension. My mild and meek nature often misinterpreted in to weakness and I tried breaking my own fence of placidity I created.

It’s tough in a real world. I realized that every emotion has its own significance. One must only comprehend the right proportion at right time. It sounds iconoclastic with respect to the teachings and morals I have been subjected to. I tasted the blood when I vehemently resisted a school bully with searing white anger and unabated hatred in my eyes.

The result is instantaneous and effective to the point of building my own impenetrable fortress of safety around me. That bully never bothered me again. But I suffered unparalleled confusion about what I saw with my own eyes and what I saw with my heart’s eye.

A good word with warmth and compassion always heals madness generated by anger. But extreme demands need to be countered with extreme measures. A few times I was even involved in fist fights that resulted in bleeding noses and bruised egos on either side.
Taking a step back and looking at a big picture often makes us lose focus on what’s right before us. I do not advocate anger if I were to chose it as a policy, but I vehemently support to use it as a tool when need arises. Anger needs to be built over a period of time with undeniable, irrefutable and irreversible event cascades if the opposite person wishes not to evaluate or realize his irresponsible actions.

And anger some times needs to erupt in explosive manner that acts pre-emptive. Some times I witness events that are too complicated to digest in normal sense. Like eve teasing, child abuse or insensitivity towards civic sense makes me boil instantly and do something foolish.

I try to pacify myself with a conviction that there are other people who feel the same way and perhaps they would take the situation under control. But it happens not always. Besides the apathy of people in general and entertainment they seek from the misery of someone suffers is too disgusting to witness.

I live in Mumbai and I love this city. People here are very nice and socially conscious. They try hard not to trudge on others toes. They are well mannered and helpful. They tolerate not injustice. They take initiative from helping a stranger to punishing a thief. They also realize the need to pass the matter over to right authority unlike the mob mentality at some other places. And sure there are some sociopaths even in this place.

Leaving the external side I wish to explain about my own dark side. My anger is always generated behind a profound pain. I prefer to stay stoic in general but somehow I could not handle condescension from the people I love. I warrant no such behaviour to attract such treatment in any deliberate manner. I also am the first one to apologize even when I realize that the fault lies not with me. And somehow if that humiliation gets repeated I think not twice to create a safe distance. That safe distance actually propels me far away from those who treat me insensitive.

I can see the utter meaninglessness in the above analogy at an objective level. But somehow I feel I could be stronger if I were to wipe my tears on my own and stay defiant. I feel safer when I am alone. I do miss those who chose to go away or made me go away from them.

My anger is a strange combination of fire and liquid. I can not just stay burning… I feed my anger with my own tears if I get hurt by those I love. And I spew destructive anger if it’s anyone else than those whom I love.

I try to avoid getting in to situations where I have to punish myself. But some times I distinctly sense the sadistic pleasure of retaliation that compensates the past moments of weakness.

I do not regret my anger if I am right. And I do not think twice to make amends if I realize that I made use of anger in irresponsible manner.

This is… what I am….

My Haiku

Our love is on death bed

With her and I on either side

And she is busy with her cell phone

Strength

Roughly translated the meaning of this verse of song that caught my attention is… “Oh Lord… Give me not strength so much… Lest I lose faith to strength…”

I ignored this song not knowing precisely what it really meant. And for some reason I started thinking about it.

Strength is known as a virtue. Strength could have its own twisted interpretations that range from good things to bad things. Strength is extolled in every possible manner and made to drive home in young and curious hearts.

A subtle observation made me contemplate the possibility of strength becoming a liability if allowed to build unchecked. What I am trying to say is that strength could not be build in a unidirectional and perpetual manner. If such kind of strength is developed one loses the sense of unbiased judgement

Its baffling... I mean the topic I chose this time… is baffling even to me.

I mean… the more I think of it… more I am convinced that strength should have vacuum pockets in between and then it must start from roots. Strength results in confidence and a sense of superiority is as dangerous as megalomania.

It applies not only to bad things but good things as well. We some times refuse to see the dynamic change in perceptions that take place around us just because we are strong in our conviction.

I prefer not to talk about strength related to bad things.

Let’s look at good things that get rot when one realizes not the strength within that gets brittle over a period of time with no time related annealing.

Take the most agreed concept “Faith”. Faith is to be aided by strength. Strength in faith is strength itself and slowly takes shape of a fallacy in which faith is pushed back and strength is moved forward.

The way religions preach brotherhood and tolerance is nice to see. But an attempt to discern the same profoundly makes a few flaws surface in situations that compromise the so called strength. The faith suddenly is pushed to back burner and strength is used to dominate the challenge before us.

I have been observing these unseen anomalies in so many virtues. Nationalism and patriotism also in a way advocates strength unchecked. Religion and their historical wars, political philosophies and their unending clashes, culture related issues and so many more.

My point is… If all of us are human beings and all of us share the same planet why do we need to divide ourselves in to so many dendrites of ideologies??? One human respecting and loving another… is that not enough???

The word SMILE has different sounding words in different languages. But the stretch of lips in pleasure is universal in every nook and corner of word, every culture that’s known or unknown, every country rich or poor and every religion with what ever dogmas.

I see parents enforce their strength on their children not really looking at the need of a child’s heart. Sure a child is inexperienced in his or her adventures towards life. But why short circuit an authentic process that has to be learnt by one self being an individual and learn also the consequences of his or her actions???

Life teaches different things for different people. Hearts are guided not by universal laws. The need for discipline is paranoia after a point. Past is evaluated, present is experienced and future is envisaged. I was wondering if these could be done by guidance of heart where the ground rules are set by brain already.

Friends, teachers and parents must nudge the younger when they need a push but must not impose their values and strengths to the point of asphyxiation. The lesson learnt by self shall always remain a lesson that’s unforgotten. The way an imago struggles in tearing its pupa to enter this world toiling thought the pain while it gets squeezed out of its chrysalis is the best illustrated example.

What do you think my friends???

Long Distance Relations

I pray no one suffers this paradox in life.

I can not authoritatively say that people who live together shall not have such pain in life. I watch in mute envy when I see a pair cuddling each other mumbling sweet nothings.

I am never blessed with any relations that close in terms of distance. It’s either a cruel coincidence or a stark reality. I am not attractive to look and neither carries “First Impression” kind of qualities. Above this I am a pathetically shy guy when it comes to true emotions with opposite sex.

If I get fascinated with a girl all I will do is look away from her. Hence it really was hard for me to win anyone’s heart by choice or by fluke. I later discovered that I have some innate talent in internet chat and made lots of friends.

I found this girl on net. It was a wonderful experience not just to try finding excuses to tack to each other but to impatiently wait for the next possible event find such an opportunity. I hopelessly have fallen in love with her.

Then I could no more waste time on uncertainties. I traveled almost 1000 kilometers to meet her in real. When I met her… Ohh my god… I again looked away…

She is so graceful, majestic and endearingly pretty. It was the most awkward and embarrassing moment in my life where I screamed at my own happiness as my heart banged harder not staying at its assigned place but it ran in every possible direction till it hit all ribs of my rib cage.

I was on cloud nine till those few days I stayed with her. A few hours every day when ever she could sneak away from her scheduled events… and we shared so many sweet whispers and… as all good moments zap past us… we too had to part.

I came back to my place and we were in touch with secondary means. By mail, chat and telephone calls. I met her two more times in the intervals of 4 months and another time that was my last time… for only 10 minutes. It’s been three years now we did not meet ever again.

We talk everyday. Every morning we open our eyes to each other though we are no more near. We close our eyes at night in emotions ranging from warmth to red hot fury, complacency to congeniality and choked throat to brimming tears.

Long distance relations are not for everyone. They need maniac obsession and unwavering faith towards what one believes in. one must be aware when hearts getting arid and how to mellow it sprinkling tears now and then. One must get deeper in to the other’s soul to seek silence and gloom and wipe premonitions that always try to invade. One must be so trusting towards the other lest not doubt creep in to crumble what ever faith constructed so far.

Many a times I read in help columns that long distance relations survive not. I am not sure if I owed to prove them wrong or discovering that they are actually wrong. My own obstinacy is scaling walls of sanity as seen by reality. She is on shaky ground as life is blooming before her in colors that were seen not before. It’s egoistic of me to not to let someone run wide and wild in to the freedom that appeared before them.

Some times when I go to sea shore on Sundays I watch toddlers discover a new world before them. They giggle and run wild caring not for their parents or their own safety. Some parents watch them with pride adorning their faces and some squirm in fear and run after them to break the toddler’s stride. I watch all this in pensive stares and wonder if this is the atrocity I am committing towards her when she started discovering her own identity.

One of my angels referred something written in Harry Potter book. I never am interested in Harry Potter. I am more a Matrix and LOTR series man. That those elders passed the phase of childhood to understand it better and yet refuse to let children enjoy it. And children are miserably cornered in their own evolvement as every step is monitored.

I am unable to understand the career part that dominates in life. Sure it’s a lubricant that makes the cogs move smoother. But do we need to go beyond our real objectives in making our loved ones happy and provide them with measurable luxuries and feel complacent about it??? I refuse to think in those lines and hence I am available when someone’s heart needs me but definitely not a good choice if someone looks at me with a glint of hope and objectivism.

But the world is moving towards pleasure sensed by head and heart is pushed on back burner till… one gets burnt by life. I watch this trend in many people right within my vicinity and ask me my own wisdom in being reclusive towards what’s immediately available to me.

I am not yet losing faith on what I adore. My journey may end with no companions at the end of road but I carry every minute memory that blessed my heart till I sleep in content and forever.

I do not believe that long distance relations work not…

All you need is faith in your heart and smile on your lips….

Mom & Dad... A Wonderful Story

There was one time a very young boy, who used to spend time playing by a tree. One day he got bored and he said to the tree, "I'm bored, I've played with these toys too many times!" The tree replied, "OK, you can climb up on me and play on my branches." The boy got really happy with this suggestion and he had a lot of fun playing and sitting high up, on the branches of the tree.

When he started school, he spent more time away from the tree, but one day he came back to it, and the tree was overjoyed to see its young companion, and it encouraged him to climb on, but he refused. "My clothes are going to get dirty if I climb up on you." So the tree thought for a while, and said, "OK, bring a rope and tie it to me, and you can use my branches as a swing." The boy liked that idea, so he did that too, and would come back every other day to sit for a while on that swing. Whenever he used to get hot, the tree told him to rest in its shade.

As he got older, and moved on to college, times became harder on him and he ran short of food, so he went back to the tree which he had stopped visiting for a long time. The tree recognised him immediately and welcomed him, but he was hungry and complained to the tree, "I dont have any food to eat, my stomach is cringing with hunger." So the tree said, "Pull down my branches and take off the fruit, and fill yourself up." The young guy didnt even hesitate, but jumped up and tore off one of the smaller branches and ate to his fill. Over the weeks, he tore off all the branches and ate all the fruit.

After the fruits had all gone, he went away and didnt come back to the tree. When he reached his middle ages, he came back to the tree and said to it, "I have been very successful in life. I have earned a lot of money, I have a huge house and I have found a great wife. Now I want to travel and see the world." The tree was now very old, but to help its long time companion, it didnt wait, and said, "Bring a saw, cut off my trunk and make a boat. Then you will see the wonders of the world." So again, without hesitation the man cut down the tree. The same tree which he had played on, ate its fruit, laid in its shade; he cut it down and made a boat. As soon as it was finished, he sailed away and wasnt seen by his people again.

One day, an old man, walked past the tree. It hadnt recovered from the time he had cut it down. He went up to the tree, but didnt say anything. He felt the tears coming down from his eyes. This time the tree spoke in a faint voice, "I'm sorry. I dont have a trunk for you to climb, nor fruit for you to eat, nor branches of shade for you to lie in. All I have now are my deep roots." The old man whispered, "That's fine. Tree roots are the best place to lie down, snuggle up and sleep after a long life." The tree symbolizes our parents, and the boy symbolizes us.

The moral of the story is that we make use of our parents like tissue, and use them all up, and dont even give thanks, but they stay with us till the very end

Martial Arts…

I first saw a Chinese move when I was in my preteens. And I watched that movie only because I could not find tickets for other movie. And it arrested my senses to the point of no return.

From then I become a fan of martial arts. Its so fascinating to watch bad people drop like ripe grapes off their bunches of gangs as hero kick ass them. And Bruce Lee inspired highest level of attraction within me and in a way his movies kind of developed an unknown phobia within me. That I need to be prepared for some kind of eventuality where I shall be attacked by bad people and I must be able to defend myself.

And the youthful exuberance in imitating what my super heroes did on screen became second nature. Not that I wantonly involved in skirmishes that resulted in fist fights. But surely we used to search for places where new constructions took place and where bricks used to be stocked in the open ground. Me and my brat pals used to go at that place late night when the guard is not around and try to prove each other how great we are in breaking bricks. Usually our tirade ended either in running away when the guard returned or we used to dump our own adventure when we realize that our palms could not take that abuse anymore.

Later came Jackie Chan whose hilarious moves coupled with deadly agility made me gape my mouth. I became a die hard fan of Jackie Chan and never used to miss a single movie. It is amazing to see his flexibility and moves that perhaps could not even be imagined by anyone.

Slowly I started discovering the other side of martial arts. It is to understand the power within and how to harness it. I thought it’s foolish to talk about love and peace when you have the power to contain and control. I was baffled by this aspect that’s emphasized in martial arts. Further more I could not believe the powers the grand masters who could use elements as their tools to repel evil.

I started searching more and more about martial arts. And my interest in watching the movies took a new dimension. Now I do not watch martial art movies for their quench my inner sadism to see someone hurt, but to see the superb co-ordination between mind and body.

Even this concept of mind and body co-ordination took a long time for me to understand. I know that mind send signals to body and body responds. Then what’s this coordination as if these two are separate entities???

I found lost of answers in Jet Lee Movies. He is an amazing artist. I am not referring to his acting skills but I am talking about his total devotion towards mastering not only martial arts but also making people realize the wisdom in understanding the power of martial arts. I could watch his movie in eternity and still may not get bored. And my further investigations on him as a martial artist and more… as a person fascinated me. He is an amazing personality.

One day I was watching a martial arts movie and one of my friend commented in a sneering way that they fight perpetually and they can not land a single blow on each other. I tried to tell him that look at the movement coordination but not the violent consequences there of. He was still skeptic and it was harder for me to make him understand what mind body coordination is.

Suddenly I found an example that’s so common in our lives and a tailor made example to understand mind body coordination. It’s riding a bicycle. As long as you are new to it looks and feels like a Herculean task. You can’t even stay vertical on two tires for a second as body know not how to balance its self first. The mind offers its own pattern of signals to keep the body stable and intact and yet… it takes considerable time to master it. But once we master the same we are not even aware of any forces that might try to drag us down, or obstacles that would definitely make us fall. I tried telling him about this quintessential experience in understanding mind body coordination.

He made me smile by saying that if bicycling is an art that makes you master mind and body coordination why learn martial arts??? Is it not enough that we learnt mastering the art of riding a bicycle?? I then asked him if he could skate on roller blades. He gaped at me and said no. then I shrugged and asked him to see the fallacy in his thinking.

It is noticeable this way that mind body coordination is not an easy thing as it seems. We can learn to ride bicycle but that gives us not an ability to roller skate immediately afterwards.

Now I see martial arts with a new reverence. They are to be made mandatory for every person the way they made it in China. And the perils in mastering the art make one a sage rather than an invincible warrior.

Another observation I wish to point out is the variation of different styles.

In each movie that is specialized to promote some specific form of martial art made my head swim between choices. Some times snake style looked lethal and then tiger style looked superb. Then hundreds of other styles that are discovered and perfected with keen insight.

The fascinating answer lies in a person’s physical structure. A specific body structure necessitates a person to choose a particular style that could be imbibed easily. And the interaction between various styles is an education elevated.

Today I am an ardent fan of Tai Chi. And most interestingly a sport mastered by Sebastian Focun – Parkour (I hope I am right in assigning the credit to him). For those who watched Sebastian Focun in latest James Bond flick Casino Royale.

I am shameless to confess that I just gape at the performances and performers of tai Chi and Parkour but try nothing to learn an iota…

Here I am …a quintessential couch potato and arm chair philosopher…

Baby With Snake

Jetli