Thursday, May 01, 2008

Pop Psycho

He wrestled with Wisdom. As they come, Wisdom had the proportions of an overweight Sumo wrestler, overwhelming with his presence. Wisdom moved ponderously, as if scrutinising exactly why each and every molecule in his being functioned. It could be boring to watch Wisdom move, and as he wrestled he felt a sleepiness overcome him.
He shook his head vigorously to stay awake. He was Experience after all was said and done, a distinguished product from the Hands-On Learning Institute. Wisdom pondered Experience's head shake. This movement told him many things.

One, that perhaps his hold on Experience had jarred some nerves, which suitably agitated caused a shaking of his head. Two, that Experience was falling asleep watching him move and had shaken his head to stay awake. Three, Experience was trying some sort of deflective manoeuvre to distract him, Wisdom, from the intensity of his grip. This thought resulted in Wisdom doing a bit of head shaking himself.

Four. Wisdom couldn't actually think of a fourth reason, but he knew it would come. It always did. Patience was Wisdom's mother after all. Besides, he ate Experience and his ilk for breakfast and supper, preferring a healthy snack of published words for a midday repast. Wisdom always gained from experience. It didn't help much with his weight problem, but then that too was alright.

Experience, armed with his qualifications from the HOLI, and with the agility and energy of youth on his side, began a series of intricate moves which would allow him to escape Wisdom's hold. He was part summer lightning, part monsoon thunder, part desert wind. Sudden, ferocious, fast.

Wisdom released his hold. He would get Experience in the end, and he knew that. It was the Way of Things. Experience would be made to share, to not keep for himself alone what he had learnt.

Experience, flush with a Pyrrhic victory, steps back to review the situation. Wisdom stands immobile, dark,beady eyes watching the younger opponent, bent from the waist, palms resting on thighs. Experience squats on his haunches a distance away, taking deep breaths. He realises Wisdom is an ocean of many experiences, much knowledge and the constant, random processing of it all. He himself is a mere pond of specific experience and particular learning, with instinct as the big fish swimming in it.

Yet he knows his victory will be short-lived if he does not work out a new strategy. Experience wants to be the major say in matters. He wants that hands-on learning be of better advantage than accumulated wisdom. How he will manage such a win is still to be seen. Experience stands up again, stands tall. He knows his renewability is a tremendous force he controls. By comparison, Wisdom is ancient, creaky in his bones, and pain possibly lasts longer for him.

Experience, in full swing again, rushes in. It's a sudden tactic, executed for surprise. Wisdom has seen it coming, and takes a small step aside. Experience rushes headlong into a nothingness which, a moment ago, was something, specifically a solid portion of Wisdom which could be harmed. As he flounders past, Wisdom in his inimitably imponderable style, grabs Experience by the scruff of his collar and hauls back, arresting his flight into the void.

In his ears, warm breath scented by clove and mint, Wisdom whispers: “Life sucks and then you die, till then, enjoy!”

In the blink of an eye, Experience is transmogrified within Wisdom's digestive system. Experience adds to Wisdom's bulk before he even realises it. Experience becomes an iota of Wisdom and of course, learns his final lesson. Wisdom also knows there will be more like Experience coming his way, pretenders to the crown. He will wait as he has always done. A wise hunter is never greedy and waits for his prey to come to him.

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