BAIS SELFLESSNESS; corruption is miss-defined



Once too often we have faulted corruption for many of our woes. The cliché morale of the thief being the best guard is lost to our hypocritical high sense of fairness, justice and professed faiths. Truly and generally speaking, corruption gives undue advantage to the most undeserving individual. But then, that phase; “undeserving individual” is the vaguest in the most corrupt settings. Most times the individual deserves but is termed undeserving for reasons that are plainly put, manipulated.

The reasons are manipulated by individuals that undeservingly use their own privileged placing to emphasize bureaucratic procedures. This is practically the simple origin of corruption in the most organized settings, as we commonly recognize them. We have stereotyped our views of the organized human sector as a very complex hive of related human activities that are geared towards specific functions. This is true, but these same organized entities are basically made up of simple people firstly.

Organized settings are made up of separate persons that function in miniature micro niches of their own selves, family, clan and communities that are basically informal in nature. Their daily functional relationships with each other, has them exploring means to get the upper hand over the next person.

These efforts are loosely enhanced by acts that interpret into seeking undue advantage. This is not obviously encouraged, especially since most of those concerned get the bad end of the deal. But these same disadvantaged persons actually cheer the visible fruits of these very acts that are detrimental to them.

The so many gains of corruption are thus revered in the same communities that abhor it. The irony of it all is the fact that this is not quite literally contradictory, but genuinely existing opposites on the same plane of existing functions. The most vocal perpetuators of the ills of this derogatory human vice are consciously the same advocates of its human face. 

The cheat is thus ‘heroed’ and put up on a pedestal of esteemed status. Then he is encouraged to unconsciously lead the trend, while he consciously leads the community. Given the very same opportunity, most of the clearly disadvantaged persons will readily make others as disadvantaged in their stead too.

The trended old ways recorded had much earlier reported that the simple origin of corruption itself, is definitely ethnical. The primitive ways of doing things had ushered means of seeking undue advantage. The ancestor, the elder, the in-law, the parent, the ruler, the intermediary and the interpreter are all doctored, by all means possible to ‘water down’ their resolve to ensure ‘due process’ is followed or adhered to, in a manner that appeared to be seeking undue advantage.

Payments are not stated in their clear terms, but insinuated. Or better still, most times not; but still expected in ‘Cash’ and in ‘Kind’. Cash is too definite, it puts exact value. Kind is loose and the gratitude shown lingers on for so much longer.

The generous nature of the action lies. Its will is a whim and its benefactor a fool and a tool that only necessitates the whole course of action. The action is not a perceived selfish push, but rather a pull with a bionic human horizontal-gravity-like pull, attracting all to maximize the ever elusive gains to excel by all means workable. The lie in the perceived generosity is just too evident in the visibly covert insinuation, so insultingly offered.

The sense of value marks out the level of priority of the people. What is valued and why it is valued and how it is valued? All makes out the essence of the people’s priorities. The fabric of society is hugely dependant on this. It is what differentiates civility from anarchy and stabs common sense behind its back.

Education when pursued for the sole aim of attaining a status is thus achieved with the same aim. While civility suffers in this course, a state of prosperity is attained. This sort of valuing has characterized our trusted modernity with such unequalled prominence, that nothing else matters to a generality of humanity. Humanity is nothing but what man’s deeds makes it and man after all becomes what he worships; it represents him.

What a majority represents insinuates a national character, a popular norm; which is embraced mainly because of its success, its viability and reliability. Corruption has thus developed into a national character for this same reasons and it is now a norm embraced mainly for its success. Its viability and reliability as it were, against what is otherwise termed proper. The people are after all one whole package with a single identity. To assess a nation, the main consideration is its very visible people.

The branding of the entirety of a company’s service is labeled by its personnel, the staff that functionalize the firm’s activities. Hence, to assess the personnel by means other than their very own, only really serves to disconnect the staff from their firm and then tradition runs a different race from the present, this should matter. Maybe it is then so apparent, that corruption is either wrongly branded or just plainly wrongly defined.                                   

                        Corruption shouldn’t give undue advantage

                        Only when bureaucracy hinders advancement.

                        A nation’s constituent as one sole package

                        Needs its traditional personnel assessment.


So many times the blatant fact is assumed but not proven, that the rich are arrogant and that humility is with the poor. But ignored is the reality of pretence being more evident in the poor or the less privileged. Isn’t it predominantly so evident that ‘Humility is the worst form of conceit’? Deceit is disguised in readied pretence predominantly. The vice of the rich being arrogance is akin to that of the poor, humility under duress.

In the weakness that is prominent in the poor, lies a quiet strength that is subtle. In the rich’s arrogance is sincerity and in the poor’s humility is a sinister compromise. But a virtue that makes a unique blend of these perceived extremes is leadership. Learnt or taught, experienced or developed, entrusted or made, given or denied, earned and won; leadership formulates its deed.

Leadership swings like a pendulum, in an arc that represents its own distinct interests; interests that subsequently direct its course, its aims, its objectives and its final achievements. Leadership is resourceful and commands resources in a manner that reveals its interests. If not in practice, it does eventually when it has run its course or ends its tenure, term and time.

Resources abound all over and finders are keepers. But then resources are nothing if they do not translate into a means of leadership. If authority has responsibility, then responsibility has authority. If leadership has resources, then resources have leadership. The resource is not beneficial if those who earned it do not lead it. If it leads them, then though resource has leadership, leadership doesn’t have resource and simply put; he that earns doesn’t get to pay his bills. When the earners are different from the payers, then a contest ensues.

A struggle ensues and subsequently grows out of a tussle for basic rights, borne out of an obvious desire to lead the resources that had been earned or won, by earners or payers, respectively. The disconnection is so evident in the chaos that ensues and nothing is as crippling in any clearly established setting as the corrosive effect of disorganization. It wears and tears with a persistence that suffocates and extinguishes the positive force in any establishment. Hence a contest fundamentally disorganizes.

Competition does not exist alongside cooperation within the same concurrent pair of settings. The presence of harmony represents compromise for shortcomings. And leadership must give a little here and there to enable it keep the flame of the force that powers its establishment. What makes conflict prominent is not the competition itself or even the perceived immediate material dividends of success imbedded in such contests. The attraction is the recognition that comes with it.

Most of the led are not bothered with who leads, but what leadership delivers. In a like manner, most of the leaders are not bothered about what their leadership actually provides but what the led think of what their leadership provides. This is leadership’s interest as it reveals itself now. This interest response easily to pretence and thrives solely on the feedback it gets from those around it. Most times the feedback is filtered through its cronies, who surround leadership and concentrate on giving it the kind of response that ensures their own personal existence and comfort, while not necessarily forwarding the actual response that strives to reach the leadership.

Leadership is thus misled and its interests with it. The elite are not as unsympathetic as they appear. They are as humane as every other being of every other economic class and status. The reason for this conclusive perception is however not far fetched.

The unquenchable desire to always have and keep protected that power gotten, has made the elite appear heartless. They strive to ensure that the sorts of lifestyles they enjoy are not reversed on any account. They have come up a steep road they see again and again; altered here or there, but very easily recognizable.

It is quite easily recognizable as a similar road that would take them downwards, if they are unwary of this fact too. Wealth and fame is like health and game. The big and strong appear fit but will become ill and die if careless and unlucky. The famous are loved today and hated tomorrow like a winner today loses or ends his winnings tomorrow. Mindful of the cold they could get, the elite will rather kill to stay warm, unsympathetically so.

The common man’s simplicity has made him blind to the difficulties associated with or being daily considered by the elite class. His decisions are mostly straight to the point, so much that the complications evident in being something else is not recognized and appreciated but instead simply taken at their clear face value and not scrutinized with proper analysis.

Evaluation is in itself an act of analysis and the two cannot be pinpointed divorced successfully. The led criticize easily for this same reason and leadership does not, for the same reason. The interest of leadership has to take a lot into consideration and most times, some of the things considered can not be publicly highlighted but still are very essential. Compromise at that level is mandatory, for every single detail. It is for this reason that a state of leadership is attained in the first place and will even be remotely and extensively exercised.

                        Arrogance is in the Rich’s vices and virtues.  

                        The Earners’ and Payers’ contest truly rests,

                        Not on dividend, but on recognized dues;

                        Paid by all the leadership’s own interests.


One unique feature of religion is its tenacious adherence to fixed and definite principles. These principles are the basis of its existence as a religion and are fundamentally the seed that gave birth to its very essence. The idea will most probably not make rational sense but the most rational being will support and defend it sensibly and at the peril of his own sanity, physical comfort and even his very existence.

Religion is not the faith in the principle that embodies it, but faith in the mystical entity that signifies it. The dictates of this mystical entity are conveyed in the principles adhered to at every physical and mental cost, with an attempt to constantly de-emphasis self and enhance the prominence of the symbolized entity of the faith; be it human or inanimate, or just mystical.

The formation of an organic entity to personify religion gives religion an attitudinal face. The revealed and related activities of these faces give the religion a logical form. Very few persons have really enjoyed the true luxury of choosing a religion. From time immemorial, religion chose man and found him; by force, by region, by clan, by race, by trade, by tradition, by history, by birth, by orientation or de-orientation, ironically.

Nothing calms and still agitates man like his faith in something he regards to be bigger than himself. Religion had given him reason to reason, and answers to ponder and wonder, erroneously or correctly. Religion is honestly a matter of acceptance and conviction, yet confusion as well; individual opinion. One irony of religion is its singular and as yet, unduplicated ability to truly unify all its conquests in a common course without relying on any democratic dictates.

There is nothing democratic about religious overtures. It is the most dictatorial from of human management ever used or applied by the human race. Truly, the obvious belief in its perceived non human origin would have ensured that it is seen as not human and thus beyond the comprehension of humans. But the fact remains that it is basically and entirely administered purely by human beings. Whether influenced or not, the instant choice of believing, complying and adhering is always human.

Hence man administers religion. This, as stated, has been largely successfully done within the religious communities, all in the absence of a democratic fabric. The fact that the back bone of every faith and religion is still the same today as it was at its onset and infancy for millennia past, points to another key feature of religion; it is unequivocally dynamic in every nature.

Religion maintains its structure but adjusts and fits itself rather well in all its many diverse travels, moulding both its conquests as itself to accommodate its conquests and still remains its unique identifiable self. This isn’t easily replicated. And as such this democracy that is being clamored for and that had, with such trendy popularity, thrust itself into more societies, is rarely recognized for what it truly is; a new religion.

It is relatively new to all other religions and foreign to their dictatorial and parochial principles. One can choose one god from another, democracy preaches. One can change anything one does not like, democracy teaches. All this as long as majorities agree that it should be so. Majority rule is the true definition of democracy. One individual’s choice takes the back seat and watches helplessly but vocally, for as long as he and his like opinioned cronies cannot convince the most from the other divide to accept their own opinion and stance.

They wait for democracy to choose them, like the religion with many deities it functions as and it is. Democracy doesn’t point at one deity; instead it has minor ‘gods’ that expire with their tenures. Governments don’t listen to a particular ministration but to their collective individual might; collectively expressed. Governance is stirred by the dictates of a few individuals.

A consensus is established when the empowered individual works with the majority. In practice this has been altered to fit circumstances and does not float down stream in most instances, but is pulled up stream, against clear popular wishes by certain pressures it must register, accept and comply to. If it desires to remain relevant in its present state, then it must succumb.

Each time a government is determined, it simply implies that power had been given to a small group. The government is a custodian of represented power. Its mandate, man-power and management have to be cooperated with by the people; if it is to be successful. Where there isn’t such cooperation, then its success is not established and tangible but just fragments of its imagination. Common sense shows that people based governments had administered within the confines of its own dictates pulled and pushed to fit its own determined policies.

Even popular governments have sipped from this pond of self-righteousness. The success of any given governance endeavour is strictly determined by the cooperation it gets and its objectivity; the former is as prominent as admits the latter. Their symbiotic romance harmonizes the polity and practically vindicates cooperative administration.      

                        Religion is not as democratic as dynamic,

                        Thus government stirs to any ministration.

                        Civil cooperation and compromise laid thick,

                        Practically vindicate cooperative administration.


One common misrepresented assertion by leadership, is the emphasis of the unconditional unity of the governed. It is a commonly embraced mistake. It appears straight forward and basically advocated as reasonable. Who will have anything against unconditionally unifying different ideas to smoothen and ease the act of governance? Everyone will wish for such a luxuriously pacifying state, it makes things obviously easier.

But this is only a utopian dream. Man is too different to be that agreeable. Hence we would agree only for the instant purpose it serves. But in our agreement is a very obvious yet subtle disagreement that serves only our purpose. There must be that inevitable sense of compromise holding together human unity for it to be comfortably binding. To rely on this circumstantial relationship as the foundation of any policy is to have faith in only one direction of wind to steer a ship on the high seas.

People will always rely on their very own selfish judgment first of all and when the whole community of the governed are being considered, unity is then too unreliable to be an exact policy. Shrouded in his old traditions are man’s thoughts, which are fundamentally tutored to be bias to his very own personal ideals.

The principle of ‘the longer it lasted, the longer it lasts’ was not coined after some rare scientific experiment or sociological evaluation. It is a human certainty that is as old as humanity. Over an extended period man has managed every area of his activities in ways he considered appropriate to his immediate circumstances, with regards to his particular orientation. This is as traditional, as it can be simply broken down to its barest.

An individual’s thoughts and deeds are guided by what is traditional to his own immediate physical and emotional environment. These are major determinants in the reaction of man in every given setting and basically predict his actions, or in-actions. The perspective of the misguided will always be hunted by their traditional orientation and this will pull their sentiments in directions they unconsciously do not have complete control over. In devising an acceptable line of thought for any group, it is essential to consider their prior orientation.

It is important to weigh their special particular sentiments and adjust their methods of choice to their comprehension as well as capabilities. Neglecting this fundamental option is always counter productive and to a considerable extended destructive too. The nature of man’s assorted cultural settings has schooled his customs and ensuing norms in a huge collection of highly imaginatively imposed regulations, even as they evolve.

None evolves without some form of basic communal want that is being advocated for or protected from undesired possibilities. In achieving these quests of managing an embraced system, man’s norms simply develop. They develop into a standard form of behaviour and the immediate community normalizes these as is usual and expected. These norms have shackled the capabilities of any form of government within a society.

They are not necessary ill-conceived enacted laws; which they evolved into with stealth, when not put aright fundamentally. They are mainly conceptions of bias origins. Norms hinder the progressive work in any liberalized institutionalized society. The ethnic origin of man’s sentimental choices has made him unreliable as he is. Man is naturally prone to constant bias at times of decision making. He is completely incapable of continuously taking decisions devoid of sentiments.

Man embodies a life of abject subjective choices and all his apparent or obvious efforts to appear otherwise are actually just as bias. Man is a slave of his feelings and he is in a state of this perpetual captivity. The only possible escape is when he is subjected to his own communal cooperative dictates, which ensures that he functions within a life sustaining spherical confine of behavioral norms, which govern his actions.

This established confine, loosely but recognizably, keeps human action within a manageable state at all times of relative organization and thus man’s bias excesses are managed. This is a mythical spherical form, not unlike his limiting atmospheric earth. And is as complex as it is likewise simple in its revelation.

It is this common compromise that is reflected in the stated communal cooperative organization, which when legally united, forms a defined administrative body that can act as a managerial unit. This group’s natural behaviour incorporates management. The constant bias apparent in their functions actually binds and thus ensures their continuous existence and apparent success as corporate management, based on its practicability.

Man’s state of affairs is too complicated to be given a definite solution at every twist and turn. But true to his nature, man will always respect his need to be bias to his selfishness and when this is determined by norms his very sentiments hold dearly, he is selfless. In the mazy hedge of his emotions and decisions underlines the fact that, if he seeks to succeed he must only show this dogged ‘Bias selflessness’.

                        Unity is too circumstantial for a policy,

                        Tradition orients a people’s sentiment.

                        Ethnic norms always cage the polity;

                        In constant bias corporate management.

Sounds of life – A reason to hear ourselves.


Between the skies’ spittle’s; barely visible downwards spay, and the pimpled droplets of dewy grass tears, I stood nursing my fear. Nima had been missing all night. My search had been, not long but hard and daring. Like they say, you pocket caution and prudence thrives. I never was the one for hiking, but after I had won three gruesome hills, conquered a full stream and reached this vast rich valley, I see what I felt like I never knew I could;

“Alone I roam with the air
The wild administer to me fair.
People all make you only sin
This is the truth I’ve felt and seen”.

Still this war raged in me and I was not winning, fear was.

We went to the same good schools, Nima and I. “I never wait for time,” he boasted and tried. Time is that bountiful bondless chain that is ever shortening man’s reign. It is not an entity to touch and own. It is all around like the air, which Nima is so full of.

And mocking his bravado I ask him, tongue in cheek, ‘When will you grow up?’ “When the clouds mix with the silver lining in my hair,” he will reply with that infectious grin of his appearing like a white cut at the base of his sooty dark face.

He wasn’t to be seen in our bedroom when I retired for the night. We had quarreled all afternoon, before lunch. Like the only other gender, he again wanted to share and conquer my body. We had never quarreled about that before because this was the first time it had ever come up. After so many years as friends, we had never quarreled, Nima and I; not ever. But this last decade or so, Nima was touchy when the adoption issue came up. And it did more often when Ladi, he and I were together, and that was quite often.

These many years I carried and paid all he willed and I was billed; for him, then his wife (Ladi) and others. I paid with as much love as I should and could. I could afford to, with the amassed wealth I had at my disposal and eventually inherited. Later I made more as I wrote my many thoughts, disguised as fictions and made even more money. I wasn’t quite generous, it just came to me naturally. Every moment we ably blink, yet it is some deal to wink in philanthropy. Why? But while lots of other people just wondered why it is so, I just blinked. Our lives became one long holiday.

As young men we had agreed that it was human but selfish to owe who you own, like children. Their wants, wishes and needs are lost in the realms of nothing before they even exist as perceived visible entities. Their hopes are those they are born into and they did not know real choice. They didn’t have the choice to conform and concur to the idea that conceived them. They are creations of a notion that isn’t even helpful to their reason for existence. The choice to be helpful rests on subtle selfish options too. The most helpful people are those who give assistance not because of someone else. Thus someone always gains from the helpless.

Ladi ate our fruit and being the pampered child too, she loved our endless holidays and joined the long cruises. I wasn’t as lucky as Nima was, but I doubted if Nima totally agree. Anyway, they got married and still tagged along with me, their most dear oldest bachelor forever friend. But I waited for them to tire. They were more whiners than warriors and were therefore prone to become quitters subsequently. So I simply waited for my inevitable peace. I couldn’t sleep last night. I stayed up all night clasping the warm darkness, shutting out the lonely silvery glow of the fractioned moon smile. The frogs’ cantata contest invades with its happiness, carried in the still air of their moist mating mile. How simple was their peaceful revelry, my ears had wondered the vastness of it all? And I wished all love melts into that one simple serene moment.

As the last three fun-filled decades passed by and age crept up our guts, bones, flesh, skins and minds, Ladi threw up the fruit. Though they couldn’t have children in their early sixties, Ladi still wanted a child so much. She started to discredit our notion with a barrage of academically dressed daunting questioning. Then as a prelude to renouncing our old principle, she babbly confounded our resolve as well. First were the suggestions, which we followed. We got shares and properties. We made some huge investments in our separate individual names. “We could leave much more for our favorite charities,” she had convinced us.

Then we made the choice of a healthy and friendly, violence free and naturally safe city to live in. “Ageing folks should make plans for when they cannot party around the world any more,” she convinced us. It sounded very plausible and not even her plain countenance gave her up. Our inner liberty of trust failed to recognize and quench her early plot. We succumbed, took drastic measures by the liberality of our usual standards and bought the big houses next. Then it all fussed into place as lastly she wanted us to adopt children. “Someone to love and cherish as ours,” cooed the Dove she is; but she didn’t convince us this last time.

We talked about it thoroughly like literates would and should, but never really could. It didn’t add up, because convinced by our opposite ideologies each, we only agreed to disagree and our passions with us. Ladi’s demands on our opinion got higher with each inconclusive debate. But still with the wider rotation of regular time and the pressure of age increased, not a single thing was changing. Not as baffled as confused, she set out to diffuse our grit resolve. We weren’t astonished with the much work she had done collecting material for us to see, hoping to touch us. It didn’t work still. We were stale and musty in our stance. Nima even had temperamental difficulties for continuous patience.

“I am nothing but an embodiment of someone else’s convinced notions. If I please them, I fail myself,” Nima argued heatedly and clearly impatiently. ‘And if they please themselves; your children, would you say they failed you?’ I asked Ladi. Inwardly, I felt they had to reconsider the situation in the light of the new development. Her mindset was a key prerequisite to the idea in the first instance.

“Certainly not,” she gleefully replied, sensing my premonition with an evident overflowing of relieved joy. “But that wouldn’t be true, would it?” Nima quickly asserted. “You must have dreams of good things for the child; things that are in your view quite good for the child?” I tried again with tiny prowess.

“Yes Of course I do, but the child is free to select a path, choose its own way of life.” she clarifies. “But not life.” Nima concludes and sternly adds, “That ultimate choice, you have already made for the child. Or someone else had.” He touched the very core of our misgivings with the age old very erroneous idea that has been so misconstrued for so long, that it had simply established itself and became the most conventionally accepted human value yet. Procreation has been corruptibly demeaned to wealth creation.

Ladi searched in the darkness of those libraries we call minds for the shelves for compassion, but found instead farms only we could harvest of the yield we sowed as best as we could, as we saw best. We were not reaping children because we had planted none. But humanity still is, with such selfish and shameless ease.

I remember Ladi’s tears as she yelled her frustration. Suddenly it dawn on her that in her earliest youthful perplexity, she had been fraternizing with the enemy. “I respect you!” Ladi called out. “I want you to love me,” Nima returned just as loud. “If I didn’t, I would have cheated. I could have had your children without your consent. We had no official premarital agreement. What would you have done? What would you have told ‘Our Children’?”

“Oh, I will let them grow first.” he replied calmly. “Then I will read them a speech I wrote at their birth, but only when they are old enough to comprehend it fully. It will go something like this; ‘Ever since; Your Mama, conceived you; My Children, I had fears for all these ‘not fair’ things that you will experience. Things like disappointments, betrayals, pains, ageing, death and all that sort of thing. I know I can’t protect you from them, not even take a tiny bit of them from you. So I considered my true love for you and decided what you don’t have can’t have you. So I never wanted life to have you. If it was my decision alone, that is what I would have chosen for you.” Our silence wasn’t tasteful.

I ran away naturally, not wanting to participate further in this academic debate that had naturally been emasculated of its initial detached logic by its integral emotional realities. I wasn’t married, Nima was. He stood his grounds and all hell broke loose on their married earth. Abused and he got stronger. In tempests of flooded words, blazing outbursts of rage, vacuuming raids of malice and ravenous fights. But he stayed good, fair as the first day we met.

Nima followed me, occasionally. Not on more cruises, but to my one bedroom cottage away from civilization, where I write as I quietly listened to only birds talk and not pesky nosy people. I’ve long tired of persons who surround me with fake affections, when there wasn’t a single selfless word of truth in all they said, but they are easily believed because of how they speak. It is my place of quiet peace, away from my fears of man and his continuous unsolicited intrusion that never surfaces even if necessitated by his own discomfort, but always ever forged by another’s.

I never ever gave my body to Nima like the world is doing to everything else now, with its submissions to logical fairness, devoid of the basic elementary comprehension usually required of all biological entities, which man professes to be the best of.

My father told me the ‘Common Story’ long before I learnt everybody else had heard it before finishing elementary school;

“In days old and long gone by,
A young Goat still with speech
Asked humans as he went by
Their old time wasting pitch.

“‘Have you seen my wives go by?’
‘Wives?’ They jeer and returned.
Enquiries to, the grown kid comply.
‘Wives,’ he so proudly confirmed.

“‘No laddie,’ their answer did fly.
‘We only saw your full mothers
And so many sisters walk by.’
‘But they’re all my wives, my brothers.’”

Such beauty in sweet soft words speaks to minds. It fires up situations with limitless wood of hope, as it seeks to show the enjoyment partaken in the matrimonies coupling the unglamorous unwedables. The adulterous flesh of the Goat man is; grown up and unethical. His very nature is truly that of the animalistic dope’s. In Nima’s case he just wanted to experiment with the most subtle and submissive person he knows. And hoped by mischievously pestering me, he can create ways to accommodate our principled stance, he wasn’t willing to unequivocally forgo. He was unsuccessful though, some times hilariously so too.

Some years back, Nima and I had gone to an invitational retreat for retired military officers, where I was to give informal talks on; Writing as a career. It was for a weekend at a beautiful ranch resort with great views. There were lots of domesticated folks with their animals free to roam as they wished. It gave the place an African village setting. I remember a young goat erroneously assuming a friendly urinating six years old nude boy for its mum.

In the difficult poor blue indigo light of the evening twilight, the kid snuggled in-between the standing boy’s legs and suckled on his dripping protruding male organ, like it would its mum’s tit. We laughed our heads off and Nima got so drunk that evening. Nima and I never drank alcoholic beverages. But that once, he got so drunk that he stripped off all his outer clothes and jumped into the resort’s pool in his loose fitting under pants only. A waiter followed him in immediately and with much difficulty pushed him out without the only piece of clothing he had on, because it had been easily flushed off his body as he sank into the water.

Nima staggered out of the pool nude as an egg and ran towards the poorly lit mowed Golf fields with his manhood dangling in front of him like an accusing fore finger, shouting for a ‘lamb suck’. Nima wasn’t gay. He was just too much mischief, principle and fun rolled into one. The brevity of that vivid display of his puzzled state explicably manifested the malady his mind was in, it showed. When he came to my cottage after their latest quarrel, it was clear their worries had remained irreducible and unresolved.

After a hurried lunch we calmed down to some light civil chat, but he just went on about, “Ladi and this talk of child adoption.” I only said, ‘She might have a point.’ And he felt betrayed by me as well. “Come on chum,” he thundered. “One baby is no different from another and the accompanying responsibilities aren’t too!”

‘But have you considered a grown up; late teens or early twenties? Befriend them, let them choose you. They have a choice and are alive. Their wants, wishes and needs are at their finger tips; real and communicable.’ The betrayal he felt showed on his lined brows and wrinkled neck as he stormed out, his smoking pipe clenched in a fist. I let him be as he walked away from me into the vast beautiful land that was hiding me. All night and the noon that preceded it, I waited for Nima’s return.

I waited no further at the first sign of the next morning’s radiant early sunlight. I locked up and took off after him into the late dawn’s chill and dim. Walking the luxurious lands, conscious of the breathtaking sights that had informed my seasonal sojourn here; even as my mind is marooned by the fear of Nima’s unclear sudden prolonged intolerable absence. I stared at the heart warming view before me with the impartiality of what effectual general attraction it has and I reaffirmed my knowledge that the wisdom in beauty is not buried within its scenery, for its goodness and overt sincerity consoles all forms of misery.

That is why I can hate a beautiful thing and see it is ugly in my hate. The sights soothe my immediate worries, I lost all enmity, love the sheer holistic sight and merry. The land inhabits me and I acknowledge that it didn’t seize my joy. I returned late in the brighter light. The eastern horizon had fully revealed the heavenly judge back from its one night abroad. From its lonely pedestal it casts lukewarm rays and dares me, all seeing, uncompromising. As an impure witness, I never looked back. The eye of its truth sees through me. Silence is my right, the loot in every man’s fight. Passing beneath the trees’ shade, I pause to talk back to the birds;

‘Flew your thoughts with a breeze,
With a sharp whistle and ease.
In the simple flight you all live,
Winds are harsh and rain a thief.

The woven nests top your trees,
Eggs your chicks and roofs peace.
Living is one brief lonely courtship
That wings songs it just must keep.

So Birdie, play your own flute
Like nature does to only you.
Life leaves me in my ugly soot
And I just can not be like you.

These repertoires are just you
As I continue to thrive on my loot.
Amazed why ironically unlike you
To my endowed peers I am a mute.’

When I tired from my search and flitted backwards home, I found Nima was under my bed all this long while. He must have sneaked in and hid there sometime the day before. The sight of him all tranquil was sweet; that haste of taste too late to waste.

He was too still and it wasn’t from straining to shut me out. Right there beneath me, time embraced my best friend and stopped all its worldly rummaging along with him; for him only, letting me continue along alone, with these cherished sounds we all call life.

Letting individual faith be;
Carry its soul to its own sea,
Stupid perspectives as all too.
It speaks only when spoken to.

In its peace it rows its boat
Sweetly to an abode it thought
Ferries revelry ever so new,
Or simply just as it chooses to.

When, if or whether it matters;
Over everything the mind falters.
It waters sand and dry up dew,
It heard and does as it wished to.

Up high in vague divine quests
Or down in worldly conquests;
But versed and tensed it knew
Sounds of life we’re just all up to.