An understanding of the popular text about a dumpty egg, Mr. Humpty

A certain Mr. Humpty Dumpty, with the proportions and measurements of a large egg in general, one day figured it would be cool to sit on a wall. Well, he thought, what the hell. It must've been a good view it is hoped, what with all the king's army, soldiers and horses around. You could wonder how such a tense atmosphere would provide for a cool view, so to say, but what can you say about an egg's wish..

Precisely. Nothing.

So Mr. Humpty, while enjoying the view and the action, must've either done something stupid or embarrassing in view of the general mood of the event, or maybe just went out on a limb to look closely at the details of the ensuing action. But hey, God didn't foresee such a creative wish on the part of that species and Mr. Humpty's evolutionary family tree had not provided him with the faculty of a limb. And hence the absence of such a limb, and also the fact that gravity is such a nasty bitch, Mr. Humpty enjoyed a perfectly natural windy free fall from an innocent wall in the middle of a war.

A fall was provided by the ground, after the fall from the wall. And it broke poor Mr. Humpty's heart. He couldn't bear such a travesty to have fallen on him. Why, it wasn't his fault if his genealogy hadn't been as creative! Fuckin' ancestors, he thought.

And the weirdest of all things then happened, as if we weren't already uprooting some fences of imagination here. All the king's horses, and all the king's men, well, stopped and came over. Mr. Humpty the egg seemed to be broken and they must've felt it inhuman as well as inhorse to not help a poor egg in distress which they might've eaten away the next day anyway, if they had survived the war that is.

And behold, what can you say about such things. They tried, and sweated, and the horses' hooves must've felt really useless, but the fact remained that despite the shiny evening spent in helping an egg instead of warring, they just couldn't put Mr. Humpty Dumpty together again.

Yeah that's it. Really.

I wonder what they did after.

Other than feeling generally useless and lying about on the ground like wasted lives and pondering on the futility of evolution in general.

johnny johnny
yes papa?

wassup man?
awl kool daday

ciao kiddo
yea take care dad

funny poem eh?
ha ha ha

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
stood there and laughed at the egg and its hen

deodorant in nervous armpits
clutch in hopeful handshakes
smiles in an extra bend
and just wishful beliefs

kisses in empty air
jingle in lifeless dresses
eyes in furtive vigilance
and just ugly laughs

soap in deceptive hands
tears in lying bottles
truth in blindfolded hiding
and just lucky money

life in uncertain roles
slippers in cozy shelves
death in lonely apartments
and disappointed fame


showbiz.

twinkle little stars

 "Do you love stars?", she asked her father. She would talk to him about the stars, and change the topic when he said he loved them too. She didn't think that an adequate answer, because she never said she loved them. She rather loved the distances between them. To her, it was the distances between them that made them so filling. Mesmerising, you could say. And the much reputed twinkle that they held? No she never thought that was any exciting.

"Do you love stars?", he would ask his daughter. Because he knew she did, and was only trying to make good father-daughter conversation. He thought her eyes twinkled when she asks him the same question. He tried to see the stars in them, imagined her to be mesmerised by them. And said, "Yeah, I love them too". Because he wanted her to keep her love for them, and the twinkle, even though he never could see what the said beauty was about. He must be old and wrinkled, he thought. And her daughter gifted and special, to see what he couldn't, and so he would add sometimes, "Aren't they beautiful honey? Look at them twinkle!"

tears in deep cracks
cracks in brittle skin
skin on a crumpled hand
hands in immobility

blood in generous potholes
potholes on ugly streets
streets in a shrieking cry
cries in the distance

electricity in broken wires
wires in the greedy ground
ground in a pimpled swell
swells in bubbling bursts

poison in viscous oceans
oceans on inadequate continents
continents in a finishing race
races in a hurry

kutte ne paali bhains, diya doodh bhains ne roz
kutte ne paali bhains, diya doodh bhains ne roz
kamal ki baat hai