Left Brain Right Brain

Things happen for reasons.

For some reason there happened to be invisible kangaroos standing on either side of the street as I walked this morning at 6 a.m. They were waiting for me to pass by them so that they could wave their hats and cheer.

Although I could not see them I knew that they were waving their fore –arms (or legs) at me as high as their kangaroo limits could allow them.

There must be a reason for sure why they chose me out of the millions of people who inhabit the world!!!

So I tried to maintain my Titoistic pride by flapping my hands – sometimes my left hand, sometimes my right hand, sometimes both hands– depending on the thickness of the invisible kangaroo crowd in my most dignified manner. I tried my best to acknowledge their presence that remained invisible because of their transparent skin, muscles and bones. (You cannot just deny something because they are transparent).

And something told me that there was a transparent cross-eyed kangaroo stepping behind me, hopping with her charming kangaroo -gracefulness with a basket of delicately chosen flowers from her invisible garden.
I needed to slow down for her sake and that was something mother would not understand.

“Tito, stop turning back and hurry. I need to cook breakfast!” for some reason she would not believe that there was this invisible cross-eyed kangaroo trying to keep up with me with her basket of delicately chosen flowers, hopping with kangaroo-gracefulness.

“What if she showed up?” I think I had a good point there. But she did not happen to show up.

Things do not happen for reasons.

–

Tito Rajarshi Mukhopadhyay

Since I was up from four a.m. on Wednesday and looked like a brand new charged battery by quarter to six, mother took me out for a six a.m. morning walk. She hoped I would slow down.
And again on Tuesday, since I was wide -awake from four and had the similar sort of motivation, mother took me out for another six a.m. morning walk.
By Friday I got used to six a.m.
Today, on a Saturday, six a.m. morning walk is an old habit.

Since we are walking everyday at six a.m., I am beginning to form an opinion about it. Six a.m. is getting built up within me as a process that includes the sound of my footsteps on the streets, casual cats sitting in the middle of the streets, mysterious looking trees that seem to hide their staring eyes somewhere in patches of darkness and of course those street lamps that light up certain parts of the street and foot paths in their conservative manners.

The process called six a.m. includes a certain shade of morning that I would never have experienced within the walls of my home. My nostrils breathe in and out the somber silence and the shade of early morning as the light from the eastern sky tries to push away the reluctant dark patches in their silent battle.

It makes me feel defensive about darkness.

The world looks so much simpler without those busy colours and the dynamics of movements that future time of the day would reveal, making the world a vast field of confusion. Perhaps only those cats can understand. Couldn’t the world be one long street with lamp posts on either side?

Six a.m. shows a perfect world where all one needs to do is walk under one lamp post to another wondering what is in the mind of that cat who just moved under one of those last patches of darkness that is still holding up against the morning.

I leave some of my Titoism there for the cat to discover.
–
Tito Rajarshi Mukhopadhyay

I got a bit spoiled with the grey matter/white matter blog (gmwm.autistics.org). Not because it gave me a forum to explore my own ideas, but because it gave me a place to read more by Tito Rajarshi Mukhopadhyay.

Tito guest blogged a piece here on LeftBrain/RightBrain.

I miss reading Titoisms. I could use some crosseyed invisible kangaroos. I could use his uplifting statements.

I hope all is well with Tito. Tito, if you read this, know that I’d love to see something from you. I bet there are others who feel the same as well.