gaffe #.96


Man and Dog

Pencil Sketch, made on 4th August 2019.


gaffe #.95

Fiery_Color_067 (1)


Painted on 18 July 2019

gaffe #.91

The Real, which I couldn’t Escape

I flew in the sky, and my mind seemed to leaf through a picture book.
Then the frog croaked, and the bird sang, and I found that the real world is not bad either.



gaffe #.89

Beam Up

“So, let me get it straight. You are an extraterrestrial from a star-system 78 light-years away, and your mother-ship has landed on the dark side of the moon, and you are here to inform us that we are at the precipice of utter disaster and complete annihilation of our society and civilization”

“Yes, and of course I have taken a human form, so I can easily get accepted among all of you.”

She quickly grabs my palm and tightly presses a bit of my skin in between her two fingers, and asks me in a high pitch tone, “… do you feel pain, or are you the typical method actor?”

~ Quick search – method actor : an actor who aspires to complete emotional identification with a part. ~

“No, my primary job aboard the space ship is to maintain communication devices, so that when we come to a planet like this one, we do not have to struggle with the language and other cultural expressions”

“How smart of you, so how are we all going to die?”

“We first came across your planet when a planned destructive explosion took place, that was about ninety earth years ago. Ever since, we have seen that your people have been recalcitrant on self destruction … “

“That has to be from Merriam Webster,” and she makes loud crackling sounds.

“… you are changing the temperature, humidity and gaseous composition on the planet by so much, that it will soon stop supporting your kind. A brief study of your history suggests that you have done very well to survive for about two hundred thousand earth years, but we also found that the natural system of your planet tends to purge out all its living forms every few million years – an act of replenishing its biochemical system.”

“Now, Now … seems that you can also time travel … to the past, eh?”

~ Quick search – time travel : travel through time into the past or the future ~

“No, we cannot do that, but we can make predictions of the future which are at best 96.53% accurate.”

“See … Mr. Skywalker, no point fooling me … try the Warner Brothers, HBO … or Disney … maybe they can make you Gandalf or Night King.” With that, she walks away.

~ Quick search – Skywalker : Luke Skywalker, main protagonist in ‘Star Wars’ movie series ~

~ Quick search – Night King aliter Night’s King : Leader of the ‘others’, and major villain in ‘Game of Thrones’ Television series ~

~ Quick search – Gandalf : Aged wizard and senior protagonist in JRR Tolkien’s ‘Lord of the Rings’~

“Humans, I will never understand them.”

“Beam Up – Let us try another city, and maybe we can find someone who understands me.”

** END **

gaffe #.88

Albert 2.0

Mum died on Tuesday. After the funeral services on Friday I finally had a quiet time by myself. Sitting on the shiny marble blocks just outside the chapel I found myself reflecting on the happenings of last week. And, while it still pains me, even my soul knew that her time was up. It was pitiful to look into her cloudy eyes and follow her lips as she tried to make her thoughts comprehensible to me.

Was it the chirping of the birds, or the mildly flowing breeze, everything seemed to dig in deep into the memories of mum. Everyone was there to bid her a final goodbye – two sons, their wives, one daughter, an army of grandchildren and many more.

Amy came out of the chapel and sat down next to me and put her palm on my back. ” … do you plan to write to the AI-entities district office by tomorrow? Dismantling and transshipment will take another 2-3 days.” Now, we also had THAT.

I looked at Amy and pursed my lips.

“Of course, we will miss him. But, he was never him. I mean … ” Amy said.

” … but, it seems he did his job and the old woman never missed her husband. He was there by her bedside on Tuesday, when Mum breathed her last.” I said fighting off my choking voice.

“Yes, I still recall the stark horror, when three seasons ago cousin Jimmy nearly spilled the beans. How boorish of him, on Thanksgiving he cries out- ‘pinch him, and he will feel no pain’, ” Amy said.

“He was her proxy-husband for seven years. Diagnosed with a feeble heart, I could not have informed her of dad’s death” I said.

Amy pulled me to my feet and gestured to the car park. I prodded clumsily as she pulled me along.

Susan Weber (1948 – 2036) – Loving Wife, Caring Mum, Awesome Grand-mum‘ – a glorious lie gave her seven more years of love and happiness among all of us and a very smart robot.

** END **

gaffe #.87

A Walk To My Home

Dark clouds,
Lonely road,
Friendly trees,
. . . I walk to reach my home.

I come to a crossroad,
To hear a croaking toad,
Which way to go?
. . . the left or the right, be it so?

A puddle or two, a gentle breeze,
Walking past a drone in the trees,
Singing birds, what do they speak?
. . . then the sun comes out, shining past a peak.

Will the leaves sway,
To tell me the way?
. . . the sweet smelling wild flowers may,
Streak their scent, and steal the day.

A tree stump,
A squirrel in the grassy clump,
Pigeons fly here,
… am I any near?

… this tree makes me smile,
Is it the stone to mark the mile?
My journey is soon to end,
Memories to cherish and thoughts to lend.

There I see,
The wooden gate,
. . . here is my garden,
Here is my home.


Written on 12 October 2017