There’s something in the other room,
Gory details should be left alone.
All white, all the time,
No black, no gray
Mass expanse,
Spot the crime.
Love dies,
It’s imperative to know
The python was aware
He lied.
Place the lives in a line,
Call the offspring
Its supper time,
It’s still warm.
A moan’s heard,
Not too loud,
Enough now
Here’s the shroud.
The beads lay scattered
With a pale glow
Which will shine
When your tears glow.
The blaze ends
Your life doesn’t
You can go,
When darkness summons...
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The Jest of the Fire-Child
You see things in the dark. Things which would never survive the blatancy the daylight proffers unto its inhabitants. The sparrow lurking deep within its nest, watching the owl tearing down the entrails of her supper. The vulture fervently hoping that some of those entrails fall on the ground below so that his breakfast is taken care of. The raven, resting her tired wings after a day of spreading despair over the ridiculously sunlit world. The dog, howling in agony which Lucifer afflicts on him with gleeful malevolence. The cat, poised gracefully behind the Light Bearer, enticing the dog to invoke his predatory instincts. The parrot, witnessing everything with noiseless, infinite fear. The robber shadowing an innocuous little girl, malice dripping from his every step, the glint of a blade only just visible under his trench coat. The nozzle of the spray only just visible above her handbag, her features marred with a mirthless smile that revealed her razor-sharp teeth. Their paths cross with that of the Luciferian retinue and the parrot’s eyes widen. The final colour in his eyes before they close was scarlet.
The hours of darkness are almost at an end now. The Moon has been a mute spectator to all the proceedings of the night. She was being watched too. By a mortal, so immensely in love with Her that every full moon night he would linger on for the entire span without moving a muscle, pining to acquire one untainted glimpse of his beloved. To witness Her in all Her splendid glory. Just once. It was not to be. The Master of Fire was prowling beneath the mortal’s window, wafting flaring clouds to thwart his sight.
The son of Light gave way to his father and the Sun rose. The mortal, whose face still exhibited his fragmentary love was overtaken by slumber just as the epicentre of all his heart’s yearnings searched for him with tear-filled eyes, all the while cursing the Devil from the unfathomable depth of Her virgin heart. All futile. She bowed down to the Sun and scarpered. The Sun laughed with cruel delight as He saw Her running away leaving a trail of tears behind. For He knew and so did She, that in His naked radiance alone could a lifeling behold the Moon in Her true majesty.
The hours of darkness are almost at an end now. The Moon has been a mute spectator to all the proceedings of the night. She was being watched too. By a mortal, so immensely in love with Her that every full moon night he would linger on for the entire span without moving a muscle, pining to acquire one untainted glimpse of his beloved. To witness Her in all Her splendid glory. Just once. It was not to be. The Master of Fire was prowling beneath the mortal’s window, wafting flaring clouds to thwart his sight.
The son of Light gave way to his father and the Sun rose. The mortal, whose face still exhibited his fragmentary love was overtaken by slumber just as the epicentre of all his heart’s yearnings searched for him with tear-filled eyes, all the while cursing the Devil from the unfathomable depth of Her virgin heart. All futile. She bowed down to the Sun and scarpered. The Sun laughed with cruel delight as He saw Her running away leaving a trail of tears behind. For He knew and so did She, that in His naked radiance alone could a lifeling behold the Moon in Her true majesty.
Friday, August 14, 2009
LUCIFER'S CAVE
She rose like the mist from the stars,
A shadow in the great nebula.
Up she flew, robes billowing beneath her dusky feet,
Her hair, ethereal as it eclipsed the moon,
Her presence radiating like the beacon of Minerva;
Illuminating the very fabric which wove the entire universe together
On and on she advanced, wearing a smile that calmed all.
Down below, a beast lingered,
Bearing an abhorring guise,
That of a terrifying fiend,
Repugnant with the malice that manifested itself on his demonic countenance.
Lacking valour to face the luminescent splendour above,
He rose slowly, menacingly
When enough pluck was accrued,
He zoomed towards the shining glory
Halting across from her, his eyes unwavering.
Discharging orbs of fire
With colossal intensity unknown to any soul or spirit.
She watched the mischievous sprite rise up beneath her,
As though dealing with an impertinent child,
Bemusement broadened her smile
He rose to her level,
She was proud of her son,
Though dismayed by his preferences.
Then the spheres came,
Profoundly sad, she spread her wings, raised her hands
With deafening thunder came the rain,
Smothering every solitary globule of flame into the depths of the land.
He was almost there,
A few more rounds and all was done
Still smiling, opening her arms to take him back
Foolish woman!
He wouldn’t come
Not again inside the enemy’s snare
The thunder shrieked, the wind bellowed
The rain was rapid
His fire transformed into a sedated glow.
Down and down he plummeted
Into an endless abyss;
He knew his end was near
Courage left him yet again.
His mother’s beaming resplendence alone;
Could now grant him reprieve.
She looked down
As her boy plunged deeper into Lucifer’s cave
Tears replaced her smile and mingled with the rain.
Rife with all that he had left behind;
His deeds,
His transgression,
His sins,
His shame.
A shadow in the great nebula.
Up she flew, robes billowing beneath her dusky feet,
Her hair, ethereal as it eclipsed the moon,
Her presence radiating like the beacon of Minerva;
Illuminating the very fabric which wove the entire universe together
On and on she advanced, wearing a smile that calmed all.
Down below, a beast lingered,
Bearing an abhorring guise,
That of a terrifying fiend,
Repugnant with the malice that manifested itself on his demonic countenance.
Lacking valour to face the luminescent splendour above,
He rose slowly, menacingly
When enough pluck was accrued,
He zoomed towards the shining glory
Halting across from her, his eyes unwavering.
Discharging orbs of fire
With colossal intensity unknown to any soul or spirit.
She watched the mischievous sprite rise up beneath her,
As though dealing with an impertinent child,
Bemusement broadened her smile
He rose to her level,
She was proud of her son,
Though dismayed by his preferences.
Then the spheres came,
Profoundly sad, she spread her wings, raised her hands
With deafening thunder came the rain,
Smothering every solitary globule of flame into the depths of the land.
He was almost there,
A few more rounds and all was done
Still smiling, opening her arms to take him back
Foolish woman!
He wouldn’t come
Not again inside the enemy’s snare
The thunder shrieked, the wind bellowed
The rain was rapid
His fire transformed into a sedated glow.
Down and down he plummeted
Into an endless abyss;
He knew his end was near
Courage left him yet again.
His mother’s beaming resplendence alone;
Could now grant him reprieve.
She looked down
As her boy plunged deeper into Lucifer’s cave
Tears replaced her smile and mingled with the rain.
Rife with all that he had left behind;
His deeds,
His transgression,
His sins,
His shame.
THE DIALECT OF SILENCE
It was quiet. She was hesitant. Her bearing slow, with marked reluctance. Of course, the muddled path to the grotto would shed some light on her gait, but her face told quite another story. As she made her way past the dense forest, filled with elms and birches which lined either side of a poor excuse for a path, her breathing shortened. She needed some place quiet, some place for a slight repose, before she returned to the enormously frantic and raucous life she so grudgingly led. Indeed, she had just escaped from a boisterous party when she had come scurrying down her back door to the forest ahead. She never understood why she bothered about hiding these little trips from people; they hardly ever noticed her absence. Sometimes she wondered if anyone would care were she to disappear forever. Solitude being the only companion through her childhood, she doubted whether she would need anyone in her adult life. She quite liked the quietness the forest provided her. It filled her with the deep sense of tranquillity and solace that she so direly needed in her life. After what seemed like aeons to her, she arrived at the cavern she had discovered, on a similar night, when she was ten. She went in and lied down. From a minuscule hole in the ceiling she saw the stars pass the world by. Their sheer magnitude made her feel that she was the smallest being in existence. She loved it. Being invisible meant she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be heard or even talked to. The world would be a quiet place. She was calm again and had mustered enough grit to face the deafening world again. She left the grotto and made her way back along the path. All of a sudden, a strong wind blew and the leaves ruffled. She stopped in her tracks. Realisation hit her too hard and she fell on her knees.
It would never be quiet, the trees talked.
It would never be quiet, the trees talked.
FUTURE THUNDER
Rest your eyes little one,
Rest while you can.
Make merry, encounter bliss.
Live your own life, my love.
These weary eyes have seen more than they recollect.
Reds, blues, greens,
Moons, stars, stripes,
Men, boys and marines.
They all have passed.
All but me,
Come for me, O Reaper...
Take my soul, for it no longer belongs to me.
The night is still dark,
Won’t be long before the day is too.
Take me before that sight comes,
My crumbling eyes can no longer handle the truth.
Don’t be afraid, my love... never fumble.
Scythe in hand the Reaper comes for me.
I must go now...
But hark well when the clouds rumble.
Rest while you can.
Make merry, encounter bliss.
Live your own life, my love.
These weary eyes have seen more than they recollect.
Reds, blues, greens,
Moons, stars, stripes,
Men, boys and marines.
They all have passed.
All but me,
Come for me, O Reaper...
Take my soul, for it no longer belongs to me.
The night is still dark,
Won’t be long before the day is too.
Take me before that sight comes,
My crumbling eyes can no longer handle the truth.
Don’t be afraid, my love... never fumble.
Scythe in hand the Reaper comes for me.
I must go now...
But hark well when the clouds rumble.
BAPTISM BY FIRE
Your exile has ended
My chariot of fire awaits you.
The ninth gate has opened;
Let the pentacle embrace you.
Come down my child,
Come to your father.
Come see what you have inherited.
It’s your turn to rule Hell and master Fire.
Pride, Lust, Wrath, Envy,
Greed, Abomination, Sloth and Gluttony.
All are your servants now
Use them wisely my son
Make your old man proud.
Fight the Good
Never cease.
Vanquish the “Almighty”
Let the Evil live.
The time has come
My knell is yours.
With great pride I bequeath my title-
I’m at your mercy Satan, my Lord!
My chariot of fire awaits you.
The ninth gate has opened;
Let the pentacle embrace you.
Come down my child,
Come to your father.
Come see what you have inherited.
It’s your turn to rule Hell and master Fire.
Pride, Lust, Wrath, Envy,
Greed, Abomination, Sloth and Gluttony.
All are your servants now
Use them wisely my son
Make your old man proud.
Fight the Good
Never cease.
Vanquish the “Almighty”
Let the Evil live.
The time has come
My knell is yours.
With great pride I bequeath my title-
I’m at your mercy Satan, my Lord!
DRY EYES
Tears welled up in her eyes,
They couldn’t fall down,
She... wouldn’t let them.
A dam built in her eyes...
A dam which failed open even in the direst of circumstances...
Oh and what dire circumstances she had faced!
One such circumstance came by,
As wonted as she was, she refused to shed tears.
Her virtuous patience had suddenly mutated into the gruesome face of an ugly vice,
Scavenging on everything sad.
She couldn’t bear the reproach,
The savage tear filled eyes silently asking:
“Have you no heart?”
She silently trying to explain
Another flood came by,
Another failed attempt.
Suddenly the dam in her eyes developed a leak...
Seconds later another appeared!
It was as if Poseidon Himself came down upon her,
The dam broke.
She fell, her patience fell.
Reproach turned into acceptance
Anger into pity,
Ignorance into false knowledge.
Open-armed they welcomed her,
She was one of them now!
They couldn’t fall down,
She... wouldn’t let them.
A dam built in her eyes...
A dam which failed open even in the direst of circumstances...
Oh and what dire circumstances she had faced!
One such circumstance came by,
As wonted as she was, she refused to shed tears.
Her virtuous patience had suddenly mutated into the gruesome face of an ugly vice,
Scavenging on everything sad.
She couldn’t bear the reproach,
The savage tear filled eyes silently asking:
“Have you no heart?”
She silently trying to explain
Another flood came by,
Another failed attempt.
Suddenly the dam in her eyes developed a leak...
Seconds later another appeared!
It was as if Poseidon Himself came down upon her,
The dam broke.
She fell, her patience fell.
Reproach turned into acceptance
Anger into pity,
Ignorance into false knowledge.
Open-armed they welcomed her,
She was one of them now!
SEEDS OF WARMTH
A Raven’s Night
The moon shimmers,
The door shuts,
The lights go off,
The window opens,
The curtains lift,
Step... step... step.
A flash of silver,
A snip here, a cut there,
The blood flows...
It is particularly cold tonight. Wild, tall poplars have turned black as if doused under the shadow of the very snow that proffered them its beauty before twilight. Their shadow stretches far and wide, turning everything that dares to come their way, into the darkest shade of its original palette.
Deep within the shadow a lifeling scuttles. A speck of white, whiter than any snow, desperately trying to camouflage its hopeful appearance into the grey gloom of hostility. Failing miserably.
At the other end, a silhouette of a cloaked figure, darker than night, emerges from the trees. The towering body slowly approaches the lifeling. His eyes widen and shine the brightest emerald as it sees the figure inching closer. There wasn’t much distance between them when a flash of silver appeared between the two.
A slash of the scythe, a spot of scarlet. It still cold above, but the meat warms me.
The moon shimmers,
The door shuts,
The lights go off,
The window opens,
The curtains lift,
Step... step... step.
A flash of silver,
A snip here, a cut there,
The blood flows...
It is particularly cold tonight. Wild, tall poplars have turned black as if doused under the shadow of the very snow that proffered them its beauty before twilight. Their shadow stretches far and wide, turning everything that dares to come their way, into the darkest shade of its original palette.
Deep within the shadow a lifeling scuttles. A speck of white, whiter than any snow, desperately trying to camouflage its hopeful appearance into the grey gloom of hostility. Failing miserably.
At the other end, a silhouette of a cloaked figure, darker than night, emerges from the trees. The towering body slowly approaches the lifeling. His eyes widen and shine the brightest emerald as it sees the figure inching closer. There wasn’t much distance between them when a flash of silver appeared between the two.
A slash of the scythe, a spot of scarlet. It still cold above, but the meat warms me.
...AND THEN THERE WAS GUILT
Location: Carnegie Hall, New York
People were waiting outside the hall for the concert to commence. From the throng, a lady dressed elegantly in a flowing black gown spotted someone on the street and walked towards her.
“Excuse me, sorry to disturb you but you look a lot like my friend-“
“Kate!!! It’s me, Jane.”
“Oh my God, Jane? How have you been? When did you return from Cambodia?”
“Just last week. It was hell there, but I had the time of my life! Anyway what’s going on in the ad world?”
Kate heard her name as people start entering the hall.
“Ok, so I need to go. It’s the New York Phil. You know I won’t miss it for the world.”
“Same as ever” laughed Jane, “Go now but we need to catch up! It’s been a year since we met.”
“Definitely! How about lunch tomorrow? Pastis at 1?”
“Sounds great. See you then.”
“Ok bye”, said Kate as walked towards the hall.
Next Day;
Location: Pastis Restaurant, Upper West Side, New York
“Jane, over here” waved Kate and beckoned her friend towards the table.
“Hey sorry I’m late... there was traffic at 45th and 3! At noon!!! Go figure!!”
Kate laughed, “Not even a week in the city and back to your normal ways! The Cambodians are supposed to be very cultured. Didn’t they teach you anything?”
“My dear Kate, I spent the whole of last year with the wild tribes in Cambodia. The only social inhibition that they have is to not kill their relatives. And that too is taken very lightly.”
“Honestly Jane. Don’t exaggerate! When I went to Cambodia-“ but Jane cut in...
“When you went to Cambodia, you stayed at the Hilton or something and rubbed shoulders with the bourgeoisie! I had no such luck Ms. CEO of a big Ad Firm.”
“Moving on...” blushed Kate.
She was always aware of the status variance between Jane and had never been proud of it. Having been best friends since college, when Jane decided to go to the third world countries to help those less fortunate, Kate moved to New York and rapidly grew through the ranks of Sloan Curtis one of the most sought after advertising agencies in the United States. Kate now lived in a trendy Manhattan district while Jane who was out tending to the poor for most of the year lived in a rented studio in Brooklyn. Now that she thought about it, choosing Pastis was probably not a very good idea.
“You’ve got a great tan. I presume it was hot there?”
“Hotter than hell. That’s nothing though, compared to what the people have to suffer. I swear to God, if I had even a penny to spare I would give it all... all to them!” the ferocity with which Jane spoke about the cause she believed in, for which she strove so hard made Kate feel horribly empty inside. It made her feel so materialistic that she thought her life was deprived of meaning.
Suddenly, the words came out.” Jane? What am I doing?”
“I thought we were about to order...?” Jane enquires, confused by the dazed expression on her friend face.
“No, I mean with my life. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Sure, I go to work every day and make my company and myself a lot of money but what good is it? I mean when I die, what will I be remembered for, if at all.” She didn’t know what she was saying, but it felt so good to just let out what was inside her all these years.
“When you left for Africa after college, I asked myself if what I was doing was correct. What life was? What was my purpose in it? Then Sloan Curtis approached me and having nothing better to do at the time I took up their offer. The first few months were an ordeal I’ll never forget. Nothing interested me. I became so dazed; my boss had to make me take Narcotic Analysis test thrice to make sure I wasn’t stoned. I don’t know how but I go through it and at times actually started liking my work. Then about three years later, I got your mail and saw you among those children’s happy faces and it all started coming back. Then yester...”
“Stop! Ok just breathe. You look like you are about to faint! Listen, you think it’s all easy for me? i asked myself the exact same questions when we passed out of college. That’s why I went to Africa. I thought it was the right thing to do for me. You stayed back because deep down you knew that, that was the right thing for you! When I see those children’s happy faces, I feel disgusted with myself knowing that what I’m giving them is momentary happiness. I’m giving them hope which may or may not come true. You might not be helping them but at least you are not giving them false hope. You don’t know Kate how hard it is to look into the eyes of a dying child and assuring him that everything’s going to be alright. We all ask ourselves these questions Kate. Our entire lives are spent in answering them. All we can do is hope that when we die, all this will be well worth the effort.”
“Will it?” asked Kate.
Jane smiled and said,” Let’s order.”
People were waiting outside the hall for the concert to commence. From the throng, a lady dressed elegantly in a flowing black gown spotted someone on the street and walked towards her.
“Excuse me, sorry to disturb you but you look a lot like my friend-“
“Kate!!! It’s me, Jane.”
“Oh my God, Jane? How have you been? When did you return from Cambodia?”
“Just last week. It was hell there, but I had the time of my life! Anyway what’s going on in the ad world?”
Kate heard her name as people start entering the hall.
“Ok, so I need to go. It’s the New York Phil. You know I won’t miss it for the world.”
“Same as ever” laughed Jane, “Go now but we need to catch up! It’s been a year since we met.”
“Definitely! How about lunch tomorrow? Pastis at 1?”
“Sounds great. See you then.”
“Ok bye”, said Kate as walked towards the hall.
Next Day;
Location: Pastis Restaurant, Upper West Side, New York
“Jane, over here” waved Kate and beckoned her friend towards the table.
“Hey sorry I’m late... there was traffic at 45th and 3! At noon!!! Go figure!!”
Kate laughed, “Not even a week in the city and back to your normal ways! The Cambodians are supposed to be very cultured. Didn’t they teach you anything?”
“My dear Kate, I spent the whole of last year with the wild tribes in Cambodia. The only social inhibition that they have is to not kill their relatives. And that too is taken very lightly.”
“Honestly Jane. Don’t exaggerate! When I went to Cambodia-“ but Jane cut in...
“When you went to Cambodia, you stayed at the Hilton or something and rubbed shoulders with the bourgeoisie! I had no such luck Ms. CEO of a big Ad Firm.”
“Moving on...” blushed Kate.
She was always aware of the status variance between Jane and had never been proud of it. Having been best friends since college, when Jane decided to go to the third world countries to help those less fortunate, Kate moved to New York and rapidly grew through the ranks of Sloan Curtis one of the most sought after advertising agencies in the United States. Kate now lived in a trendy Manhattan district while Jane who was out tending to the poor for most of the year lived in a rented studio in Brooklyn. Now that she thought about it, choosing Pastis was probably not a very good idea.
“You’ve got a great tan. I presume it was hot there?”
“Hotter than hell. That’s nothing though, compared to what the people have to suffer. I swear to God, if I had even a penny to spare I would give it all... all to them!” the ferocity with which Jane spoke about the cause she believed in, for which she strove so hard made Kate feel horribly empty inside. It made her feel so materialistic that she thought her life was deprived of meaning.
Suddenly, the words came out.” Jane? What am I doing?”
“I thought we were about to order...?” Jane enquires, confused by the dazed expression on her friend face.
“No, I mean with my life. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Sure, I go to work every day and make my company and myself a lot of money but what good is it? I mean when I die, what will I be remembered for, if at all.” She didn’t know what she was saying, but it felt so good to just let out what was inside her all these years.
“When you left for Africa after college, I asked myself if what I was doing was correct. What life was? What was my purpose in it? Then Sloan Curtis approached me and having nothing better to do at the time I took up their offer. The first few months were an ordeal I’ll never forget. Nothing interested me. I became so dazed; my boss had to make me take Narcotic Analysis test thrice to make sure I wasn’t stoned. I don’t know how but I go through it and at times actually started liking my work. Then about three years later, I got your mail and saw you among those children’s happy faces and it all started coming back. Then yester...”
“Stop! Ok just breathe. You look like you are about to faint! Listen, you think it’s all easy for me? i asked myself the exact same questions when we passed out of college. That’s why I went to Africa. I thought it was the right thing to do for me. You stayed back because deep down you knew that, that was the right thing for you! When I see those children’s happy faces, I feel disgusted with myself knowing that what I’m giving them is momentary happiness. I’m giving them hope which may or may not come true. You might not be helping them but at least you are not giving them false hope. You don’t know Kate how hard it is to look into the eyes of a dying child and assuring him that everything’s going to be alright. We all ask ourselves these questions Kate. Our entire lives are spent in answering them. All we can do is hope that when we die, all this will be well worth the effort.”
“Will it?” asked Kate.
Jane smiled and said,” Let’s order.”
WMD: Words causing Massive Distress
The worst thing about life is that you know nothing for certain. You could be planning a whole day ahead which would entirely consist of reading, and the next thing you know, you trip on your glasses on your way to the bathroom. Or you could be waiting for the most awaited film release of the year, but just a day before the release your father gives you a call saying that the next day is an extremely important family event and your presence is pivotal. A succession of such events can be very, very depressing and fatal for those having humungous self-deprecation issues. Doubt, low self-esteem and worthlessness soon follow this sudden upsurge of depression. The feeling can be so overwhelming that the belief in yourself to do something even as mundane as brewing tea can stir a ripple in that deep pool of the ever present self-doubt. Then there comes a point when you stop to ask yourself the purpose of your existence or rather the lack of it. The mind wanders in the darkest of its realm and the effort makes you want to kill yourself even more. But then when you’ re so close, you chicken out which makes feel worse further because you think that you weren’t good enough to even kill yourself. Just what exactly are you trying to achieve here? Is it the pleasure you receive when you gripe about your worthlessness all day long to your acquaintances while they try to make you feel better by pointing out your finer aspects. If you think that your friends would be there for you whenever you need to whine, well then; think again. Eventually they will get bored and walk away.
Reader, there is one thing which should be etched in your mind for all eternity; there is absolutely no one but yourself in this whole world that you can depend on. The possibility of trusting some odd stranger with something as precious (?) as your life!! Some call it love. To me its blatant stupidity. Why? For one, it is terribly restraining. People who are not in love but are merely pursuing an amicable courtship will never hesitate to end the mentioned courtship if it becomes the least bit non-amicable. On the other hand, the poor unfortunate souls who are ‘in love’, will think countless times before addressing a fault in their better half because they ‘love him/her’. Strangely, it is these very people who don’t even give a moment’s thought to decisions which would redefine their lives. Where’s the impulsiveness now? Moving on to other horrendous nuances attributed to being in love (believe me, I have many.) Love has myriad definitions. Entering into a marriage without the contract, signing a lease without knowing the period it’s signed for, investing into a venture without sure returns; being some of them. No one knows how long the agony will last. They just wait for the other one to say the dreaded, “I hate you” because they know that they are never going to pluck up the courage to do the honours themselves. Perhaps they are afraid that they’ll not find anyone else. Most of them are in their late thirties when they take the plunge (midlife crisis?!) and probably think that if they let this one go, they might end up alone.
I say, so what? So what if you’re alone when you are eighty? You’re going to die one day anyway. And the person you supposedly love isn’t going to die with you. Unless of course, you both are in a shipwreck or some other disaster of that sort (remember Titanic? Even there poor Jack died alone and Rose grew old all alone reminiscing her three day but ‘splendid and eternal’ love story). What I’m trying to say, dear reader, is that why fall in love when you are eventually going to end up sad. Sure, you’ll have some good times during the whole thing, but you can have just as many good times being out of love and that too without the emotional trauma one goes through when the relationship ends.
If you think I’m being a bigot and have a personal grudge against love, then you’re mistaken. My views on friendship follow a similar thought process. What is it with friends and their million expectations and infinite unwritten and unspoken rules of conduct? And don’t even get me started on the whole thing about playing Aunt Polly for the countless emotional traumas your friends go through. So they have problems. So did Einstein, but he didn’t run to his friends every time his Theory of Relativity hit an anomaly. As mentioned before your friends will leave you in the end if it gets too much for them. Why wouldn’t they? Merely because they don’t go around advertising their sorrows does not mean they don’t have any. Then again one might argue that this is what friends are for. Pardon my slang but; give me a break! Isn’t it intensely obtuse to expect something so immersed in such illogical obscurity, that other person who has enough complications in his life already and may not reap anything from it, will listen to these infinitely tedious and monotonous tirades in any given circumstance? Would you?
However, when all seems low and mired in life’s sordid reality, a ray of hope shines from the smallest holes of the densest cobwebs in a dark alley where you lie almost dead from exhaustion; and radiating from it comes the faintest silhouette of your mother’s figure illuminating everything with her radiant all-knowing smile. Granted, the relationship you share with your mother is almost the same as the one you might share with the one you love or your friend. But I did say almost... your bond with your mum is nothing short of divine. Why is it that from the moment you were born that you could distinguish your mother’s embraces from anyone else’s?Why is it that when something’s wrong in your life, your mother is the first one to know? Even before you know it yourself. Why is it that she is the first person who comes to your mind when you encounter with life’s happy and sad occurrences? The answers to these and numerous other questions about the miraculous nature of a mother are still doused in mystery. However, the fact that she breathed life into you and that you are indebted to her for your existence may give an inkling of why is she the most important entity in your life. Then again like all important things, perhaps you might understand the importance of your mother when she’s gone. Then you will wonder where your friends and lovers are and you’ll see them... a faint dot on the horizon, soon vanishing into the oblivion. Then you’ll understand what love really is... was.
There’s only so much persuasion can achieve. The rest is up to your effective use of simple logic and sense of objectivity. Then again love is a phenomenon which does not follow any conventional norms of objective analysis. So who cares, go insane!
Reader, there is one thing which should be etched in your mind for all eternity; there is absolutely no one but yourself in this whole world that you can depend on. The possibility of trusting some odd stranger with something as precious (?) as your life!! Some call it love. To me its blatant stupidity. Why? For one, it is terribly restraining. People who are not in love but are merely pursuing an amicable courtship will never hesitate to end the mentioned courtship if it becomes the least bit non-amicable. On the other hand, the poor unfortunate souls who are ‘in love’, will think countless times before addressing a fault in their better half because they ‘love him/her’. Strangely, it is these very people who don’t even give a moment’s thought to decisions which would redefine their lives. Where’s the impulsiveness now? Moving on to other horrendous nuances attributed to being in love (believe me, I have many.) Love has myriad definitions. Entering into a marriage without the contract, signing a lease without knowing the period it’s signed for, investing into a venture without sure returns; being some of them. No one knows how long the agony will last. They just wait for the other one to say the dreaded, “I hate you” because they know that they are never going to pluck up the courage to do the honours themselves. Perhaps they are afraid that they’ll not find anyone else. Most of them are in their late thirties when they take the plunge (midlife crisis?!) and probably think that if they let this one go, they might end up alone.
I say, so what? So what if you’re alone when you are eighty? You’re going to die one day anyway. And the person you supposedly love isn’t going to die with you. Unless of course, you both are in a shipwreck or some other disaster of that sort (remember Titanic? Even there poor Jack died alone and Rose grew old all alone reminiscing her three day but ‘splendid and eternal’ love story). What I’m trying to say, dear reader, is that why fall in love when you are eventually going to end up sad. Sure, you’ll have some good times during the whole thing, but you can have just as many good times being out of love and that too without the emotional trauma one goes through when the relationship ends.
If you think I’m being a bigot and have a personal grudge against love, then you’re mistaken. My views on friendship follow a similar thought process. What is it with friends and their million expectations and infinite unwritten and unspoken rules of conduct? And don’t even get me started on the whole thing about playing Aunt Polly for the countless emotional traumas your friends go through. So they have problems. So did Einstein, but he didn’t run to his friends every time his Theory of Relativity hit an anomaly. As mentioned before your friends will leave you in the end if it gets too much for them. Why wouldn’t they? Merely because they don’t go around advertising their sorrows does not mean they don’t have any. Then again one might argue that this is what friends are for. Pardon my slang but; give me a break! Isn’t it intensely obtuse to expect something so immersed in such illogical obscurity, that other person who has enough complications in his life already and may not reap anything from it, will listen to these infinitely tedious and monotonous tirades in any given circumstance? Would you?
However, when all seems low and mired in life’s sordid reality, a ray of hope shines from the smallest holes of the densest cobwebs in a dark alley where you lie almost dead from exhaustion; and radiating from it comes the faintest silhouette of your mother’s figure illuminating everything with her radiant all-knowing smile. Granted, the relationship you share with your mother is almost the same as the one you might share with the one you love or your friend. But I did say almost... your bond with your mum is nothing short of divine. Why is it that from the moment you were born that you could distinguish your mother’s embraces from anyone else’s?Why is it that when something’s wrong in your life, your mother is the first one to know? Even before you know it yourself. Why is it that she is the first person who comes to your mind when you encounter with life’s happy and sad occurrences? The answers to these and numerous other questions about the miraculous nature of a mother are still doused in mystery. However, the fact that she breathed life into you and that you are indebted to her for your existence may give an inkling of why is she the most important entity in your life. Then again like all important things, perhaps you might understand the importance of your mother when she’s gone. Then you will wonder where your friends and lovers are and you’ll see them... a faint dot on the horizon, soon vanishing into the oblivion. Then you’ll understand what love really is... was.
There’s only so much persuasion can achieve. The rest is up to your effective use of simple logic and sense of objectivity. Then again love is a phenomenon which does not follow any conventional norms of objective analysis. So who cares, go insane!
PAIN IS FAR MORE POWERFUL THAN JOY
If there is one thing life has taught me it is that pain is far more powerful than joy. Think about it. One moment you might be the happiest person alive but just one occurrence of misfortune is enough to tear your life into irreparable shreds. On the other hand you could be the most miserable person on earth and not even the descent of the Almighty will bring warmth into your heart. Then again, if the Almighty did have to come down on earth one shudders to think what peril our planet might be in. Bob Marley’s infamous words: Don’t Worry, Be happy. Inspiring, but no doubt written in the most advanced stage of drugged euphoria. Here again I have reasons to believe that in those precious moments between coming out and going back in into the formerly mentioned drugged stupor, Mr. Marley’s thoughts would be something like; “Oh the pain, the agony!”
What I’m suggesting are not the typical lunacies of a teenage girl going through her adolescence. No. I have logistics to back me up. Simple common sense would do, but the advent of consumerism and the so called public awareness have led people to doubt the wonders of common sense or the lack of it which renders people to think that the use of complicated technical language is directly proportional to the magnitude of the topic discussed. Like here, just now by simple manipulation of the words of the previous sentence I made you believe (at least I think I did) that I was discussing something phenomenally philosophical when in fact I merely pointed out your stupidity in understanding things. Moving on to the real “logistics”, why is it that Christianity is more famous for its war of the Holy Land with the Muslims than for the fact that it is the most practised faith in the world? Why is it that Islam is known for its Jihadi activities and not for the scores of people who have given up vices like gambling and substance abuse due to the fear of the faith? And how come Hitler is not remembered for honing the infamous German precision and the fantastic infrastructure during the reign of the third Reich? Do not misunderstand me; I would never condone his contemptuous atrocities towards the Jews. But again we remember the pain, forget the joy.
These are nothing but random facts compiled to form one of many hypotheses one comes up in his/her lifetime. If I were to write each and every instance where pain triumphs joy, aeons would pass and things wouldn’t have changed a bit. Perhaps they never will. In the meantime, all I can say to you is; don’t worry, be happy.
What I’m suggesting are not the typical lunacies of a teenage girl going through her adolescence. No. I have logistics to back me up. Simple common sense would do, but the advent of consumerism and the so called public awareness have led people to doubt the wonders of common sense or the lack of it which renders people to think that the use of complicated technical language is directly proportional to the magnitude of the topic discussed. Like here, just now by simple manipulation of the words of the previous sentence I made you believe (at least I think I did) that I was discussing something phenomenally philosophical when in fact I merely pointed out your stupidity in understanding things. Moving on to the real “logistics”, why is it that Christianity is more famous for its war of the Holy Land with the Muslims than for the fact that it is the most practised faith in the world? Why is it that Islam is known for its Jihadi activities and not for the scores of people who have given up vices like gambling and substance abuse due to the fear of the faith? And how come Hitler is not remembered for honing the infamous German precision and the fantastic infrastructure during the reign of the third Reich? Do not misunderstand me; I would never condone his contemptuous atrocities towards the Jews. But again we remember the pain, forget the joy.
These are nothing but random facts compiled to form one of many hypotheses one comes up in his/her lifetime. If I were to write each and every instance where pain triumphs joy, aeons would pass and things wouldn’t have changed a bit. Perhaps they never will. In the meantime, all I can say to you is; don’t worry, be happy.
SENSELESS BLISS
“I’ve learned the meaning of the Sun!!” she whispered! Mother enlightenment was happy with her ward! She granted her wisdom. A modicum amount, yes! But wisdom nonetheless. And what enlightenment it brought her! Right after Kate boarded the plane for Washington, her fear of flight set in. Eyes closed she prayed. Prayed for everyone she knew and held dear and as an afterthought threw in a prayer for herself too. Might as well she thought... after all SHE was the one who was flying! After what seemed like an eternity she opened her eyes. Of course, in reality just few minutes had passed since the take-off. She looked down her window and saw the Hudson River, a thin grey strip running down the middle of the windy city. She looked up when the flight attendant asked if she could get her anything. She asked for her usual Pellegrino with lime. It came within seconds. Popping her anti-anxiety pills in her mouth, she downed it with her drink. “I’m being silly! I’ve flown a hundred times before. No reason for me to be worried now!” she reasoned, her arguments growing weaker with each subsequent one. The same routine every single time. Thank God for the book she had brought with her. She opened it, but somehow couldn’t bring herself to read. Of course this too had happened before. The thought seemed to calm her. Before she knew it she was off to sleep, her head resting on the headrest and her tongue lolling out of her open mouth. She woke with a start and made her way to the lavatory to splash some water on her face and if possible some sense as well. No luck. Both doors were shut. She waited for a minute or two. When neither door opened she returned to her seat and went back to sleep. She heard someone shout and then something cold touched her forehead. She opened her eyes and saw that the lavatory door was open. She made to move and again felt something metallic cold braise her forehead. She looked up and found a masked man, with a knife pointing in her direction, looking at her through the slits in his mask. Courage made her way into Kate’s body. She wouldn’t be afraid anymore. Not caring about the masked man, she looked out her window and saw the Sun gazing fondly back at her. The masked man heard her say something about her son. She smiled wisely as it dawned on her. The last thing Kate saw was a five sided star on the ground.
NORMS OF NORMALITY
Watching people suffer. It triggers of emotions unimaginable normally. Then again, what exactly is normal? Would acquiring pleasure by watching, causing people’s suffering be normal? Would wanting revenge be normal? Perhaps it’s the vengeance dwelling deep within your heart, which turns you into the filth you used to hate. Or perhaps what you needed was some good quality goad to transmute you into your ‘normal’ counterpart. So let’s assume, he goading has been successfully executed, the perils have been suffered and vengeance has been acquired. What now? Do you just go back to your self-proclaimed normal life? Or do you venture deep into the dark realm hungry for more, forgoing all boundaries of normality, your desire for the forbidden fruit escalating with each bite?!Reader, what do you think will happen once you take the last bite? Or is your desire so incapable of being quelled that the last bite would be death itself or when your victim welcomes it?
And when Satan so grudgingly rings his knell to summon you, when you go and when he extols your great deeds above, you find peace at last.
And when Satan so grudgingly rings his knell to summon you, when you go and when he extols your great deeds above, you find peace at last.
HAPPY LIVING
The day you start to question life you know something is wrong... you just know!! It might not be stark at times but it’s there... it just pops up like one of those internet pop ups which put on hold everything you are doing... forcing us to look at it and if not do something then at least give it a thought! Suddenly it becomes the single most significant thing in life (!) Relationships are forgotten, deadlines become illusive and NOTHING else seems more important. Correction: nothing else IS more important. For most it can get pretty unnerving and massive depression kicks into high gear.... but for some... the strong ones the tension can be as thick as Iron Man’s suit. They however won’t give up! Always striving to get that one inch closer to the perfect life... if ever there were such a thing! Then there comes a time when these strong ones stop, wait and just ask another question...what am I doing? There we go! Another one to keep you going for... what? Two more years?! Easy! These people spend most of their lives finding the answer. To what exactly?!?! Does anyone one really know? Perhaps not... but we all know one thing. It’s all worth it in the end! Isn’t it?
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