Archive for uncle

Ten Views of Dad

Posted in Conceptual Art, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 5, 2012 by javedbabar

Alex’s PIA: Philosophy In Art class had started well. Inspired by Hokusai’s Thirty-Six Views of Mt Fuji, he had asked the class to look at ten views of various subjects.

Last week they had discussed mothers, and he thought that today they should look at fathers. After all you needed both. Even if you had two mothers – like the boy last week whose lesbian mother was marrying her partner – you still needed sperm.

Alex said, “Okay class, who can tell me what a father is?”

A boy at the front said, “A father is a man who has fathered a child.”

This caused some smirks. Alex said, “Yes, that’s true. But you are using the word father to describe a father. It’s called a tautology – something that is self-referent. The thought is correct, but can you think of a better way to explain it?”

“Like what?”

“Let me help you,” said Alex. “Another word for father is sire.”

“Like we call you Sir? Is it the same?”

“No, it’s a different word. Sire means to produce a child. Sir is just a term of respect. They are related etymologically though. Sire is how you address a male monarch; in olden times they had special rights to women of their estates, and could indeed be anyone’s father.”

“Sir, should you be respectful to your father?” asked the boy. “Should you call your sire Sir?” The class laughed.

“Yes, Sir!”

A woman said, “A father is someone who protects you, or at least he should do. Mine tried his best but I was determined to harm myself.” She rolled up her sleeve to show cut marks. “I only stopped when he died.”

A boy said, “A father is someone who supports you financially. My dad works hard in the auto-shop. He says his job is to make sure that we have three meals a day, two holidays a year, and one happy home.”

“I had a stepfather,” said a woman. “I hated him initially for replacing my real father. God knows why, as he’d left us anyway. But then I got to know my stepfather and grew to love him. He was the best thing that ever happened to me and my mum.”

“My father was a rapist,” said an Asian boy. “My mother was raped by a soldier in Salistan during the civil war.” Alex didn’t know whether to speak or remain quiet. He was about to say something comforting when the boy continued, “So I was born to an unwed mother, which is not an acceptable situation there. I was hidden away at first, and then said to be my grandma’s child. We left there as soon as we could and came here.”

A man said, “I spent a lot of time with my uncle. He was like a second father – he took me hunting and fishing, and taught me how to survive in the wilderness. These were things that my own father didn’t know.”

“I have a father-in-law who drives me mad,” said a woman. “Whatever I do is never good enough for his son.”

“I am a weekend dad. My ex- only lets me see the kids on Saturdays.”

“I may be a DI Dad. When I was at university I sold my sperm for Donor Insemination. It brought in fifty bucks a week.”

A boy at the back said, “I am a surprise father. My girlfriend just told me she’s pregnant.”

The class cheered.

Baby Split

Posted in Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 18, 2012 by javedbabar

Baby was very active. He kicked his legs like a little martial artist, threw punches in the air, and cried continuously. Despite this pointless show of ferocity, no one minded and rather than shout, kick or punch him back, they looked on adoringly.

Mother cuddled him more closely, and said, “There, darling. You’re back with mummy now. There, there. Welcome to our crazy world. You’re the best thing that’s appeared in it ever. My angel. My love…”

Father’s smile grew bigger as he pointed to his newborn son and said, “That’s my boy! He’s going to be a fighter, this one. Look how he’s throwing out hooks already, and he can sure scream. Scare his enemies to death. The warrior…”

Naomi was allowed into the room right after the birth. She was crazy about her baby brother from the moment she saw him. She wondered if his arrival would stop her parents from arguing now. Many of her friends’ parents had split.

Uncle Bobby was there, proud to have a nephew. He’d known the birth process may go on for a while, like it had when Naomi was born, so he’d bought biscuits to share. He was down to his last one, snapped it in two, and offered half each to his sister and brother-in-law.

Baby’s mind was filled with energy rebounding. There were crazy bright patterns, wilding and assembling. He was suddenly cut off from his source of sustenance but still growing at a phenomenal rate. He would grow infinitely.

Where had these patterns come from? How had the growth originated?

He sensed two forces, far apart, but destined to come together. Black and white; yin and yang; masculine and feminine. A faceless horde of long-tailed warriors pouring into a dark valley, fearless, thoughtless, with only the urge to enter the round citadel. The palace of wonders. The hidden treasure. The Grail.

Very few survived the journey. A few brave lucky ones charged ahead and reached their destination, and threw themselves at the final barrier but only the first one made it in. His magical charms gained him entry and the gates closed after him immediately.

The warrior was welcomed. The princess had awaited him forever, for she knew that he had treasures of his own to give. They shared their riches, and realized that together they could grow. But growth also meant change.

The doctor came into the delivery room. He was mainly concerned with practicalities – the execution of his tasks – but he remained aware of the wonder of the matter. That two beings had merged and created a being that was the same as them yet different. Through mitosis, cells had separated their shared chromosomes into two identical sets, which became sibling cells that multiplied, and continued the growth process further. The point of conception was the vortex around which life spun.

Baby’s body wasn’t the only thing splitting and growing. His mind was also breaking off from his mother. There was a time within her when her mind was his mind, and his thoughts were variations of hers. But now he had a second mind, his own. This was his nature, beyond her nurture.

Every act of creation is cosmic, as if a nuclear reaction at the heart of a star; binary fission creates charged fragments; exothermic reactions release electromagnetic energy and kinetic energy, causing both charge and motion. The total binding energy of the elements resulting is greater than that of the element starting. A nuclear transmutation creates fragments that are no longer the same; free energy released is millions times greater than before.

As Baby kicked and punched and cried, he released this energy into the world. He could change this world. He could start or end it.