The SMALL big Human Gospel.

Between racing east-west to conquer his elbowroom on the big blue marble, every human gets a chance to call up the gray- haired past with his toy-mates. It is hard to escape the general conclusion that kids outgrow their toys. A worn out one is out of the list any time and a new one finds its place.  And to moan the expense of a lost toy always goes off page, once age takes a big leap. Even the unblemished of all the ones left, will be hidden in the dark. The pile grows bigger and bigger as time goes by. Then, the process of getting rid of these takes shape. Some are thrown off to the roadsides, into the bigger heap of the public, some are passed on to the successors of the family, some are donated to the orphanage, some are even recycled, but the majority lay hidden in the boxes which never see daylight. The mini-remote controlled red car with the heavy wheels, the green farm tractor, the bike with the side-stand and the yellow school bus have all been part of the workshop box.
Standing on this perilous edge of the present, between the past and the future, a chance to open this hidden treasure recaps the most wonderful time of each one’s life. A time, when every tension of the planet was hidden from our eyes, every relation was that of support, every face had a smile and wounds’ were limited to the elbows and the knees, not the heart. A real red car may have replaced the old remote-controlled one, but the joy one finds in the old one is beyond the thickness of the wallet. A smile to oneself will be a sure shot on seeing this, and so are stories of your childhood which will spring in from every direction. About how you cried all day long to own the yellow school bus, and how your dad, after falling for all the tears, bought you the then-most-wonderful gift. It may take half a lifetime for you to find this unnoticed treasure, but it will always take its shape and find you at some point, and make you realize that the most unimportant of things, sometimes proves to be the sweetest. Growing up is a universal truth, but there is, inside all humans that childish part for which toys are always a weakness. This story is not the isolated act of a madman, but surrounds each one of us. The green tractor and the yellow school bus will all hit the road once more. And in between the entire race, it can make a difference- a big difference, and if not, at least a SMILE, a real one.

The Mangoose – Snake Harmony !

The roof no longer exists for many of the technologies of the past. Testing it over and over to the point of zero-error does stay, but for a while. The forgotten tiny pores have grown to become potholes. A new class has strengthened outside the walls of the industry to fill their own wallets out of this noose. And yet the cycle goes own with the realization that these are all necessary components of the basket. There always has to be that Mr.Y or many like him, to row against the tide of technology,or at least try and expose the pores to the naked eyes of the common residents of the planet. And that in turn will make the industry man Mr.X to go for the sellotape and the scissors. And the common man, who is the spectator decides weather Mr.X has done the repair and pushes the technology to the direction he wishes. So that means Mr.Y has no chance to rest back on his chair after his new technology has hit the public. He awaits for the return smash from Mr.Y anytime because hitting an ace does not always work out. He has to put on the dirty jacket himself and hit against the wall to the point where he realizes that the ball no longer comes back to him. To the drafts here, let me add scenes from ‘The Italian Job’ which gives a real taste of the wine. The heroine, whose profession is, testing the safes, although not till the last, plays Mrs.X and her dad, a thief, fits into Mr.Y. The secure lockable box- the safe, which is the technology portrayed above, has been one of the victims of the X’s and Y’s through history to the modern times. The supermodels, ones announced ‘unbreakable’ by creators, have been emptied and that in turn led to better ones, with modified technologies. The Y’s, along with the rare sweetness of popularity and money,have always been victims of heavy blows, the involvement of the judiciary, the back foot movement or the big quits. But in all such cases, there has been substitutes on the field to replace the retired oldies, who spells technology better and thinks beyond white collars. And so, the game is all alive. A better move is always at the search and so is the one who moves it. And to you, Mr.X and Mr.Y, – May be you are two roles of the play , but you both exist in harmony.