ABOUT THE POEM: Four Falls Philosophy The first time I fell in life, I came home from school heartbroken. I couldn’t secure a seat in India’s first- or second-ranked engineering colleges. I was depressed to the point that I didn’t leave my bed for four straight days-no water, no food, no toilet. It took me nine months to stand up again. One day, I decided to run. I went for a jog. That’s when the athlete took shape in me. I decided no one would ever humiliate me in college the way that girl did in my 11th grade. In two years, at 62 kg, I gathered power. I could easily-by far-defeat anyone, even wrestlers over 100 kg. I mean easily. That man walked into college, and by the third day the whole college knew him as Ronie. I could make an 80+ kg guy sit on either of my hands comfortably for minutes, like he was sitting on a chair. Friendships grew, and so did my relationship with alcohol and weed. I passed six out of seven exams in the first semester, but I got detained in the second due to low attendance-around 60% when it had to be 75%. I lost a year again. I was left behind. My special friend, Frooti-whom I asked to be my girlfriend because I feared distance between us-said no. For a whole year, I didn’t smile once. I became famous again, this time for not talking at all. Soon, the philosopher began to take shape. That earned me credibility again-someone with common sense, style, and an understanding far beyond most engineering students. At that age, I sometimes acted cooler than necessary, but I corrected myself quickly. During that period, I learned this: no matter how open-minded you think you are, you must take a stand. There is a limit to open-mindedness. That lesson shaped who I am. This was the second fall. Now I am a philosopher back from rehab after a 758-day stay. This is after the fourth fall. The third fall was another love affair-and my mother’s death. And now, from time to time, I think I am beyond being just a philosopher. I am Ronie Dinosaur. A man of character. And beyond that-where does it come from? The man, the consciousness, all of it. People read my philosophy and ask: if you don’t hope, pray, dream, or beg, then what motivates you? I am self-motivated. It’s my character. This is the fourth time I am searching for who I am. The third search took me to a brothel. I knew exactly where I was going, constantly reminding myself: you will only get what they sell, and that is not love. This fourth time, after the fourth fall, I am walking. I know the definition of character, origin of desire, and intent. Time will tell, you and me both, what I am made of. I have no one. No dog, no cat, no plant, no insect, no wife, no child, no mother, no sister, no brother, no friend, no girlfriend, no lover, no whore, no mistress, no father, no god. No one ahead of me, no one behind, no one above, no one below. I have no one. None at all. Stay tuned.Title – Four Falls Philosophy
That girl-my love at first sight-
I watched her walk away that final day,
no fight, no plea, just silence in the light.
The first fall came when school was done:
no top college seat I’d won.
I stayed in bed four days straight-
no food, no water, no escape.
Nine months later, I chose to run,
jogged until the athlete began.
At sixty-two kilos, power grew strong-
I could lift giants, prove them wrong.
College knew Ronie by day three;
eighty-kilo men on either hand felt easy to me.
Friends came quick, but so did drink-
alcohol, weed; I started to sink.
Passed most exams, attendance low,
detained a year-another blow.
Frooti, my special friend so bright,
I asked her out-she said no that night.
A whole year passed without a smile;
the philosopher grew in that silent trial.
I learned you can’t stay open-minded too wide-
cool is fine, but you must stand somewhere inside.
That was the second fall and rise,
a clearer man behind my eyes.
The third fall came with love gone wrong
and my mother’s death-a heavier song.
The fourth fall led to rehab’s door-
seven hundred fifty-eight days, searching more.
I visited brothels, learned what they sell:
no love-just bodies. The truth rang like a bell.
Beyond money’s chains and ego’s hollow crown,
I wore the same black denim through every dawn.
One hundred sixty-seven days-same skin, same seam.
Knuckles split on stone, fifteen hundred push-ups deep.
Three thousand squats when nights dragged long.
A sliver of potato weighed like cashew gold.
Four hundred grams of wheat and rice-
hunger kept the ledger, priced my life.
Four falls down, four times I stand,
Ronie Dinosaur, shaped by my own hand.
No one beside me, no one at all-
no wife, no child, no friend to call.
No dog, no cat, no god above,
no lover, no kin, no trace of love.
Self-motivated, character my guide,
I walk alone with nothing to hide.
I never had a girlfriend-ever.
Love was one-sided or erased by distance.
A man who lived the definition of character,
the origin of desire, intent, and parallel will.
Time will show the world-and me-
what this man is meant to be.
Stay tuned.
Ronie Dinosaur is walking.
