Life is beautiful

Three Things

2011-11-20T02:17:00.000-08:00

Of three things I am absolutely sure of

1. Work is secondary, having a life is more important. I will not let my job define me.
2. Money can't buy happiness for me, I need to look elsewhere. Maybe money can get me some of those things that makes me happy, but so far, it has been disappointing.
3. Love conquers all. I won't stop loving even if it kills me.

Loveless

2011-11-05T18:46:00.000-07:00

Each day I spend without you is a day without meaning.

Do you remember those days we were not together? those days we were never close? It still continues.

The sun will shine tomorrow, for the rest of the world, but for me, the black moon rises each day to eclipse you.

When yesterdays have rejected me with crashing loneliness, tomorrow's sunless dawn fails to give comfort.

But tonight, my tears will fall freely to water the grass of tomorrow.

((This is not a poem))

Friendless

2011-08-07T10:58:00.000-07:00

I have always thought that it is only my skeptic and envious mind that refuse to believe that I have little(no?) friends. But I was mildly surprised when I looked around me, and saw no one. There are few things which we do not accept readily about ourselves: like the fact that we are ugly, or stupid or poor. Likewise, we never want to admit that we are friendless. But, as humans, we must go through the cycle of grief when we realize such harsh truths of life. First, Denial came and told me coldly that I am not friendless, I have so many people who calls me as their friend, and I them. I spend my weekends with them, go shopping with them, and have fun times with them. How can I be called friendless?

As soon, Anger followed with his wrath-some voice asking why don’t I have friends? What do I lack that people finds me so terminally foreign and alien? Why do I have these people who pretend to be friends? Why don’t they act the way friends do?

Then I pleaded, can I not have just one friend who stands by me through and through? A true friend?

At this Depression gently answered, coaxing me to fall deeply into darkness, what is your purpose of life if you have no reason to live, and no friends to die with? Gently she told me, everything does not need to be this way, only a little slash at the wrist, or a rope trick will solve all my problems away.

But Reason came, and in her harsh tone, she said why do I need friends, I should learn to accept that there will be none for me. She further counsels that when fortunes have forsaken me, all friends will forget me. When needs are direst, friends will be the farthest. But to become stronger one must learn how to not need anyone. I must be enough for myself.

Yes, I must be enough for myself.

Bubbles of Thought

2011-07-25T20:47:00.000-07:00

I had this sudden Compulsion, of changing my blog name from "Life is Beautiful" to "Bubbles of Thought". Conscience wrestled with Compulsion, long and hard, and in the end, Conscience bested and threw Compulsion down the dirty slough. Victorious, I emerged, and the blog is safe. For now.

Each time I come to this site, I always come with the intention of writing something, but at rare times, it is the other way round: when I visit this blog, sometimes I feel an impulse of writing. But I have always held to the idea that just because someone have told you to write, because you write good, that is no reason to write. One whould write when one feels like writing; the true beauty of words will come out only when it comes from the inside, when phrases unfurls from the mind, like a butterfly from a pupae, and to take on the world on its wings, to fly towards the sky... and beyond!

(I always liked a bit of drama in my writings, I wonder if my readers do too)

Ice-cream Mondaes

2011-04-25T10:40:00.002-07:00

Monday, 25th April 2011

Today was like eating an ice-cream: messy, poisonously sweet, and got over way too quickly.

After a long and extended weekend which was filled with a happening Fridays, a lively Saturday and a lazy Sunday, Monday morning felt like a brain numbing hangover. Being late for office didn’t help much either for the overall feeling.

I never did like ice-cream, it always make me feel like I have done something dirty making me feel guilty afterwards. And that is what I am feeling right now, that I did something unwholesomely dirty, and now am feeling guilty of what I should not have done. But you do have this small voice at the back of your head who enjoyed the ice-cream, that it was all worth it, and if I were to re-live the day again, I would have eaten the ice-cream in an exact way as I have done, and will be feeling guilty as I am feeling right now?

I think ice-creams are much abused and mis-understood entity and people often equate it with a one night stand: people always want it, but once they had it, they inadvertently feel guilty about it; both of them are messy, irresistibly sweet and gets over way too quickly, but in the end, was totally worth it, but feel immensely guilty for enjoying it. Afterwards.

Dear Reader, you might be wondering if I had ice-cream or a one night stand on a Monday, the answer is I did not have ice-cream, neither a one night stand, but my day was definitely a messy, sweet and got over way too quickly Mondae and right now I feel like I had ice-cream after a one night stand and am double guilty about it.

Why Thus I suffer?

2011-04-25T10:40:00.000-07:00

Why thus I hesitate? Why am I afraid of change? Do I not know that if I do not take risk, I may not get much in return or maybe nothing at all? There will always be problems, things that will hang me be back. I must take the courage to let go, be brave and jump. It reminded me of the Nokia CEO’s burning platform article, and likewise my platform is burning, I must have a trust-in-god jump into the cold water below, or get burned in the burning platform.

“The boy stood on the burning deck,

whence all but he had fled”,

This starting lines from one of my favourite poems, Casabianca. Shall I perish as that poor noble soul on that fateful night?

“Let the sun burn my body and drown my soul and thrust me into the deepest corner of darkness.”

What I should do is make circumstances to make myself grow, and to do that I must make my environment uncomfortable for me, otherwise I will never change, but would become too lenient to go forward. Though, all change is not growth, and all movement is not forward, but without change, there would be stagnation and decay, and without movement there would be lethargy and corruption.

For change and movement to happen, one must not wait simply for it to happen, but rather create an environment where change is fostered, nurtured and sustained.

But I ponder,

Why must we still seek those who have abandoned us? Is there any point in shouting for help to those who have left us in a sinking boat and have long gone to the safety of the shore? If we are not able to save ourselves, then we are not worthy to be saved by others. I would rather I die rather than be saved and incur much ‘toh’, which I can pay only with my life. Then what is the used of the saved life?

Life is not a tragedy play, there are no dues-ex-machina coming out to bring a happy and divine ending.

What deed will I do then, this impetuous, indomitable heart, poisoned by injustice? Oh my grief! The misery of it all! Why can I not die?

A sense of humour or an insensitive humour

2010-12-12T00:12:00.000-08:00

I usually notice, when someone falls, slips or met some kind of misfortune, his own friends (and others) laugh at hapless person ( though they may be helping him to recover at the same time). Does not that tell that humans are generally sadistic in nature?

As Plato said: That we humans enjoy observing others' misery (Thanks Nitish).

But I am sure there is some other reason in such kind of humour, other than human sadism.

Humour is invoked when a seemingly natural course of action was going on, a sudden unexpected occurrence intercedes, and if the outcome is not fatal, then we feel relieved, and hence humour arises, because as we build our worries over the seemingly dangerous incident, but the outcome did not necessitate the worries, we have to release that tension of worries into something, in another form, so it gets transformed into concern and humour forms. Whether concern is higher or humour gets the better part, that would depend on many other factors like the mood, nature of incident, time of occurrence, etc.

So, don't feel guilty when you laugh at your friend's misfortune. After all, you are only human.

Never give someone the power to hurt you

2010-12-01T23:30:00.000-08:00

Have I not always said humans are inherently masochistic? Why else then would we willfully give someone else the power to hurt us absolutely, and destroy us completely? The very fact that humans can and do love is enough proof that the thought and chances of getting hurt appeals to them so much that they fall in love, multiple times, sometimes all at once.

And then, they ask, foolishly, 'Why thus I suffer?'.

You asked for it, you idiot.

Temptations

2010-12-01T23:21:00.000-08:00

I still do not know what I want; probably because I am too afraid to want, the past a tragic testimony of a series of unfulfilled...

Is it possible to have no wants? And if there is, should I aim for it?

Multiple times, and too many have I been burned by the fire of wants. And yet here I am. Such foolish thing we humans are. It would be good to expose ourselves to all such things that temps us; and to reject them as they come, so as to let them have no power over us, but rather to have our command over them.

Or Should I stay away from all that temps me? To be safely cocooned away? To not know what is good and pleasant, and let them not touch one's life so they could not do their harm on us.

Books I am reading

2010-10-01T05:04:00.000-07:00

In the past one month I bought more than 10 books and 8 comic books. I have read all of the 8 comic books but only three of the regular books so far.

The first one I completed was "The Vampire Armand". Before reading this book, I have been following the Vampire chronicles of Anne Rice so that I could have the 'history' before culminating to the story of my all time favourite Vampire. The book is delicious, and by far the most sensual of all Anne Rice books. Armand still remains my favourite Vampire, with his Boticelli type angelic face and his thirst for the Lord; no sparkling vampires can replace him.

The second book was "The Warded Man" and I found it as a refreshing fantasy series in the making, after such a long drought of good fantasy novels. Well, it is not one of the epic, but we must make do with what we have. I am trying to get the second installment but it seems the paperback edition is not out yet.

The third book is "Lucifer: Autobiography of a Prince... and stuffs". I have read the Lucifer and Autobiography part, but still remains to read about the "stuffs" which turns out to be the story of his Son Uriah. And this is a work of fiction, not canon or biblical or anything. He uses some very wild languages which can make one's ears shrivel up.

The fourth book I should read, I am undecided. I have three options: Virginia Woolf's , Dante's Divine comedy series, or 48 Laws of Power. Choices choices choices.

I sing of leaves

2010-07-28T10:31:00.000-07:00

This is about ... I have no idea. But that has never stopped me from writing or posting a blog. Skipping the part where I would normally venerate about how long it has been since I posted my last entry, I shall go directly to the bee in my bonnet.

...

-Swat-
Pity the bee got killed. By a phone call. Now I don't remember what I was thinking about.
Anyways, I have taken up reading the Tarot. Perhaps I can write something about that. People are usually afraid of Tarots for some strange reasons, as if the Cards can actually cause harm, as if the Death card will bring death. Let me tell you straight away, they don't harm you; only that they tell you when harm comes your way. And the Death card does not cause death.

So, I did a reading for myself. Some cartomancers are of the belief that one cannot read one's own fortune. But I see through the eyes of the goddess; I hold no such beliefs.

Some notable Cards that came up was The Queen of Pentacles as the Source of my intellect, signifying clearly the burden of possessing the seeing eye as well as the sightless eye, and the loneliness that comes along with the two.

The last card was The Sun, inverted. It promises great things, yet I will accept only what is needed and will give away all that are in excess.

I had a long conversation with the cards, I am getting familiar with them, and they with me. I am sure we will get along really well.

Probably, I should open an occult consultancy firm. Will you be one of the first customer?

Enter Freely, and be unafraid...

My 1st time on MTV!

2010-02-20T09:19:00.000-08:00

Well, today I had what can be called my 15 seconds of (un)fame, but when Cyrus Broacha asked me what is my ego, I blabbered, and said the first incoherent thing that came to my mind: "My ego is that I believe in myself, for my ego is me". What kind of an answer is that!

Cyrus: So, do you believe you are God?"

Me: Er.. No

Cyrus: Is God a part of you?

Me: Er.. no. I am a part of God"

Cyrus: Am I a part of you?

Me: -smiles- No

Cyrus: Thank god for that (whatever does he meant by that?)

I patted him in sympathy. He got bored with me and moved on to the next guy.

Yeah, that was my fifteen second.

There were so many things I should have said, "The goddess is my ego" or some sort of thing.

The thing I am trying to bring is, at the most unexpected times, the most unexpected questions come our way, and it is much too difficult to give an answer.

This short exchange happened when Cyrus Visited our Campus, but we were busy shooting the LIPDUB for IIMB, ( I will paste the link tomorrow, when it is uploaded on youtube ), but unfortunately, Leila, the one who made this all possible, fell down and hurt herself while filming, so she had to be rushed to the hospital.

There were all sorts of confusion after that: Who will take the shoot now? and What will happen to the LIPDUB now? Not heeding much to those, we all went where there were the most crowd. Cyrus was doing his show. So, like any other who have nothing better to do, I stood where everyone was standing. Then those questions came.

I was contemplating, what should have been the right approach to answer a question, instantly, on your feet. I suppose practice will help, but one generally do not practice such a thing unless it is presented to him by circumstances.

But then, I think it has nothing to do with thinking on the feet, the trick is not to answer the most acceptable one, but one that you believe in. It can be boring, strange, weird. But it is a part of one, a product of the self. And that is much more valuable then what is artificially produced by practicing some method to generate artificial answers.

The Torture Chamber

2010-02-12T22:07:00.000-08:00

At the outset, I must declare that this is not a work of fiction but is reality, from viewpoint of a sterile mind.

How many days it has been since I was captured, I do not know. The torture sessions increased both in intensity and regularity. My body was bloody from numerous abuses it had withstood and the mind battered from the continuous interrogation sessions.

As I got ready for the next round of one such torture sessions, otherwise cleverly disguised as pre-placement talks, in this dungeon pit which is otherwise called a management institute, I saw that today it is going to be different. Today, my torturer was the notorious 2J. I turned in to my sightless eye, and in place of it, there was the all consuming flame. I fed all my emotions, feelings, hurt, pain, into the flame, and let it consume everything until in the end, there was only the flame. This is how I have been holding on to, even after such excruciating torments from the hands of my torturers.

It was my sentry duty that day, for inmates are given responsibility - but I was being detained in the torture chamber , C-11. An hour remains till the other inmates noticed that I have slacked from my duties. At this place, duty is heavier then mountain, death lighter than feather (WOT reference). Would they end this torture in time to serve my duties? Can I survive after this even to care about my duties?

A small pain crept up the mind... The flame flickered. The flame needs fuel to sustain it, and as such I faltered a moment and let the fuels supply waver. I threw in everything into the flame. There was nothing but the flame. The flame and I was one.

For how many hours it continued thus, I do not know, but it was long. Even as I was one with the flame, 2J used the dreaded Credo upon me. In answer my body convulsed in reaction, my mind reacted sharply and the flame flickered. It was a mistake, the Credo nearly overpowered me but the flame was not yet out. I ignored the pain and threw it into the flame - but to my ruin, it didn't burn - the pain was nonflammable. It flickered once more before it finally died, unable to sustain without any fuel. With it the oneness was lost; reigniting would be futile as there no longer remained any fuel to sustain it. All the previous inflictions of the torture tided over me, my screams were muted by the intensity of the Credo. I could not hold on anymore - my strength was fading. Alas! all my efforts will be for naught, if I fail now. Suddenly there was a bright flash of light but the next moment, darkness took over me.

As I opened my eyes, I was surprised to find myself alive. It seems I was out only for a few moments but within those few moments many things must have happened. The torture had stopped and the torturers gone. My rescuer was nowhere to be seen. With tired legs, I dragged myself to the sentry position, thinking what must have happened when I was blacked out.

[This was written during one the pre-placement talks as it continued to drag on and on]

Attention...Span

2010-02-10T11:45:00.001-08:00

I never seem to write anything here, these days. Have I got nothing to vent about? Or have I become too complacent with my faults that I no longer care about them anymore? Maybe it has something to do with my decreasing attention span. There was a time when I can do a thing for a long time, without my attention wavering towards another. But that was then, now I can hardly have my mind at one thing for more than a few seconds. Perhaps this has something to do with how I have been living my life, always on the edge, not knowing what is going to happen the next second, always ready to jump to the vantage point at any instance ... etc. Etc. is such a nice word, one can use it whenever one runs out of ideas. But I digress. Oh, yes, attention span.

A mail notification! I must shift my mind on that and come back here after that...wait, there is a instant message too, asking for help in one of the online games I play. This won't take long, will come back to continue this writing.

Ah, that was quick; the mail was quite uninformative and tediously long, and I helped in one of the deathrune seige of one of my gaming friend in that facebook game. And now I am finally able to return to my writi...ng. Is that someone knocking on my door or is it the neighbour's? Who might it be, so late in the night?

It was my neighbour knocking on my door. Someone dropped him a book and asked him to gave it to me. Is that my phone vibrating. Ah... give me a moment...
It is only a message. Nothing important.

Now is it my fault that I could not write this piece of blog in one go? That I could not give my whole attention to write a piece of my mind because my attention span is as much as that of a goldfish?

What book it is that is on the table? I have this terrible urge to read it. I must fight back the instinct to jump on it...
...
It is hard to tear my eyes away from that temptation of the devil and now here again... must writing this.

Will these never cease? Another temptation runs through my head, should I write this later and watch that new episode of "Accidentally on purpose"? Ah, choices, choices and choices. At this moment I want to pray, "Oh Lord, lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from evil." But I won't.

Is it just me, or is my headache getting more serious. Perhaps my eyes are getting tired with staring at this screen for the past... uncountable number of hours. Maybe I should write this later on, maybe tomorrow morning.

Oh, but wait, I have not checked orkut today! So I must rush there to check the messages and stuffs.
That was fun, I replied to a few messages, and I am back here again. But wait, an invitation to read a new blog, how nice... give me two minutes...

...
That was much more than two minutes. Perhaps I should not have written the comment, but how could I have resisted when it was so blatantly wrong! And it was not a good thing that all while I was getting distracted by million other things as well!

Ah, before I could be interrupted again, I shall end my internal monologue here. Now... should I read that book or should I watch that episode. Choices, choices, choices.

The Quest for the Doomed Hammer - I

2010-01-28T05:29:00.000-08:00

Thunder rolled weakly and disintegrates into deadened silence, as if afraid that it might wake up something unwanted.

Another lightning flashed from afar and illuminated the whole crypt, but the accompanying thunder was muted out by the silence.

I slowly passed through the graveyard, my summoned shadow master, an exact magical replica of myself, perhaps more stronger in strength, followed without making a noise. Darius, the ice-mage mercenary I hired from Ureh was nowhere to be seen.

Hiding behind a looming gargoyle, I heard the crushing of a fallen leaf beneath a light footfall. Someone was coming... I quickly cast a fade spell to make myself invisible to unfriendly watchers.

Slowly, the silent footsteps came closer towards the gargoyle...

It began as a soft tremor, then suddenly the ground seemed to tremble under a great weight; without warning, a skeletal hand broke open the ground; pulled it's whole skeletal body up and looked around its as if looking for someone to blame for its condition. Many more have emerged by then. Someone or something already knew I would be here, and they have awaken the dead to stop me.

At that moment, the fool a mercenary I hired form Ureh came running shouting some nonsensical things which I could not understand.

When he saw the undeads, he stood frozen. He might have wet his pants but I could not see clearly in the dark. The Sightless eye grants me visions but it is not particularly helpful to pick out particulars in normal vision.

One of the death sentries I placed around the crypt exploded. They are contraptions that shoots lightning charges to anyone in range. Many more followed, each explosion killing, if killing is what you call when you destroy and undead' many of the skeletons but many more were emerging from the ground.

My shadow Master went off in a burst of speed and silently started attacking those that are newly emerging from the ground.

The fool of a mercenary regained his senses and now held his long weapon proding one of the fallen skeletons.

"Oi, don't play around and help me dispose of these undeads" I shouted in anger and exasperation
He immediately activated his magical aura, for which I hired him, that rushes towards me and filled me with renewed energy and heightened my power and senses.

We battled hard, after a while the skeletons stopped emerging... but of the horrors that came next, I could not have even imagined...

tbc~

A day in our lives

2010-01-09T07:16:00.000-08:00

It would be wrong to say the phone rang; there was no sound whatever that morning. But someone was calling me on the phone. The phone shows an unknown number; I stared at it for a while. Lei was still asleep. Of course I could not have picked it up. Not this early in the morning.

The cell phone rang 18 times more, from three different numbers. Who would want to reach me this desperately? When Lei woke up I told him about the calls. He threw me a look that clearly said his annoyance, "Why didn't you wake me up, you moron?". He was quite worried; something bad might have happened and someone was trying to get the news across. He tried calling back the numbers. The first one didn't picked up. The third one didn't either. But the second didn't picked up. This perplexes Lei for a while. I told him not to worry, it must be nothing important

All of us were awake by then. Cloud was rubbing his eyes, looking still sleepy, Lei took wind for his breakfast. While there, the phone rang suddenly ( but silently). It was the second number. Lei picked it up: the call was just to let us know that our mother has reached City A and going to City B. Which I already knew as I talked with her only yesterday night.

Wind managed to spill food on his shirt. Again. Lei is telling him off to be more careful. Ice is talking how irresponsible the whole of us is and some of us needs more growing up. The day was otherwise uneventful. Lei promptly took up his huge book he has been reading these days. Wind is watching Naruto/Bleach/One Piece; I don't know which. Ice was doing laundry, Cloud is on the phone. He hogs the phone all day long. I don't know how he can stand that offending contraption.

We all have classes today, some of us have the same ones and others different. The first class, as soon as I entered the classroom, I felt the air stale, the air conditioner circulating the same stale air repeatedly. And all the doors and windows were closed. I felt claustrophobic but Cloud calmed me down, that nothing is wrong with doors and windows being closed, and that I was just being paranoid. And here I am, not listening to the prof, but writing this post. Oh, wait, the prof just ended the class early. Got to go :)

I am the Wind!

2009-12-14T08:30:00.001-08:00

Then I was Cloud. Floating, wandering, thundering.

But that was then.

Now, I am the Wind. Ever blowing, moving, storming.

Never staying, always moving.

Then why do I feel lonely sometimes. I don't mind being alone. I like being alone, doing things on my own, never asking someone, doing things as I would like, being unrestricted by someone. I am happy being alone. But then, sometimes I feel lonely. After being in the vast expanse, after blowing over every corner of the sky, sometimes it feels like it is too big for me alone. And that is when these lapse into loneliness comes to me.

But they must go away quickly, for there are clouds to carry, leaves to rustle and land to cover.

Because I am the Wind, I must be alone in my freedom.

L'horreur

2009-08-27T08:31:00.000-07:00

Do not ask to which dark god did I prayed to, but I prayed. I prayed hard to give me strength, strength enough to survive. Those days, I remember, the horror, the doubts, the dread of those ghastly experiences; there were times when I wish I could die, rather then continue to face the trauma , the agony, the anguish I felt then. Each living day was was a struggle to continue, each night was a series of horrendous nightmares, each hour was an effort to live, each breath was the dawn of new nightmares.

It was at those times that I prayed, after losing all hope, given up all faith, that I turned to the dark to reach out for even a small escape from the world that I was.

During that reign of terror, hell could not be any worse: we prayed to give us deliverance to hell. It was the time, when my faith was severely tested and all hopes crumbled. It was the time when I underwent through the trial of iron and fire, and came out with a battered spirit and a burnt soul. And then I fell. Into darkness.

I still carry the scars, and each time I try to look back, the pain would spring anew, would break my spirit and dissolved me into a screaming mass of hysterics.

It seems, sometimes, time, the great healer, can even fail in her craft.

Matrix style delayed motion

2009-06-10T00:33:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt the matrix style delayed motion? As if things are going so slowly one can see things which one normally don't have the time to see; as if everything is so quiet, and you began to notice every minute detail of the situation: from the flapping of the wings of a fly to the collective breathing sound of the ants.

Dear reader, may you never feel as what I once felt during those last few days of my five year integrated post graduate course. The matrix style delayed motion has been playing with me, and now have come to realise the full impact of the separation. Late as it may be by a year or so, I realised that no matter where I went, I was always with the insurance that no matter what, I always have IIITM to go back to. Without realising it, it had become a safe haven for me. But during the last week of those five years, I wanted to go, leave the place and not take a second glance back, not because I hate the place, but because I will miss the security of the place that was my home for almost a quarter of the life I have lived, and to take a glance back would have broken my spirit and dissolved me in tears. Those years, it felt like a lifetime, and ended too soon.

During my first year at IIM Bangalore, in how many ways did I wanted to run back to the room that was mine for five long years! 'The Haven' #274, Sindhu hall of residence, IIITM Gwalior. I remember... -passes into nostalgia-

Today is my last day of internship, and as I write this from the office, I feel that the feeling has returned again: I... I feel like I have some place to go back too, a safe haven, a sanctuary, back at IIM Bangalore, where the grasses are green and trees are tall. In a matrix styled slow motion, it dawned to me that a haven will always be there, no matter where I go, all I have to do is:
believe

Indolently blissful: Just being myselves

2009-04-08T12:47:00.000-07:00

Here I am, exulting with indolent energy bubbling inside me. I have never been this free since... I have forgotten when; A whole week to do whatever I want to do! What better way to indulge then talk about myselves!

I have done a few things this week! Some things which I should have done long ago, where as others I should have never done. But do I regret? Not a bit.

My thoughts are disarranged at the moment, and leaps from one thing to another in matters of seconds. Like I have written and deleted many things which was suppose to be here but aren't any longer now.

But there is one thing that I wanted to talk about: this modern contrivance called the mobile phone. It is driving me crazy. Maybe it is just my poor man's cell phone, but everytime it rings ( actually it never does, it just vibrates, otherwise I would have thrown it out of the window long time ago ), it disturbs my the little tranquility which I have managed to attain after much arduous endeavour. Naturally, it sets me in a foul mood before I pick up the call, and could not be my natural sweet self. Fortunately, one of my alter ego, takes over me as soon as I hit the 'pick' button, saving the person on the other end from his ear being bitten off by yours truly. It is nice to have alter egos.

I have a handful of them. Lei is a Piscean; always moody and philosophical, you can't get a straight word from him that does not reek of philosophy. Cloud is a Libran, always indecisive but passionate, Ice is, I think, a scorpio, though he never told me that. Wind is a Gemini, and he always make my head spin with his childish antics. I am, of course, a Leo. There are a few other but they are not here at the present, hence we will talk about them at appropriate times. We can all exist at the same time if we choose to; and unlike Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde none of us are evil, well, mostly we are quite harmless, except for some headache inducing antics and a sharp tongue that can sometimes cut you deeper than Ice blades. A certain cold someone is sitting beside me rolling his eyes.

Right now, Lei is reading a book: Golem's Eye. I keep telling him it is boring, but would he listen?He likes fantasy book, that he does. Cloud is in one of his moods, thinking about someone. Lovestruck, I called him. I don't think he even knows I am writing about him. Ice, uh, I think his left eyebrow is permanently stucked up there. He does not like me writing about him. Scorpios. -shakes head- Wind is ... I don't want to know what he is up to. Sometimes he gives me a headache, always doing something childish. He has this comics propped on his lap... It is one of the Calvin and Hobbes one. He is the one who likes all these kid stuffs. I keep telling him to get over it, but he rarely ever listens to anyone. -sigh-

And then there is me, yours truly, busy writing this stuff. Indolently blissful, while his alter egos are engrossed with their own task ( Ice, don't you have something else to do other than giving me that stare?).

We are quite a handful, and never a dull moment passes while we are all together. ( Wind, stop whistling, it is annoying ). God. Sometimes you should listen to us talk. I am the most sensible one of course ( You don't need to roll your eyes, Ice, and you can stop your giggling, Wind, and a clout is coming your way Cloud, if you don't stop mooning over... er... whoever you are mooning for ). God, they are so annoying. But yes, as I was saying, I am the most sensible one, though Ice do come up with some good reasons for us not to do some things. Blame Cloud if we ever develop heart disease; he lets our heart in jeopardy most of the time. Wind is responsible for most of our headaches. Lei just keeps repeating some Wheel weaving and willing thingy, and I haven't the foggies idea what it is about.

Uh, oh, look at the time, it is past time to put Wind to bed. Cloud needs to have his hair cut tomorrow, and Ice needs to buy some fruits he wanted to try out. Lei is complaining to keep quiet, but himself is laughing softly all to himself. He finds the book he is reading funny. -rolls eyes- It is about some wise cracking djinni; it is beyond me why that would be so amusing. Uh, oh, Ice says he is not feeling well. I will get back to you later. Let's see if he is just trying to attract attention or is it really a cause of worry for all of us.

Until then. Farewell.

For the greater good?

2009-02-02T08:48:00.000-08:00

To kill one so that another could survive.

That is what I have exactly done. I may as well have killed this blog, so my life could survive.

Wait with me for some more, and I promise, I shall revive you.

What type is my blog!

2008-11-30T04:46:00.000-08:00

I found this a while back and thought of trying it out. But let us examine their disclaimer first.

Note: Writing style on a blog may have little of nothing to do with a person's self-perceived personality.

That is a nice way of saying what we say may not be true but that shoul not keep you from believing it.

So here is what it says :

The analysis indicated that the author of http://johney.blogspot.com is of the type:

ISTP - The Mechanics

The independent and problem-solving type. They are expecially attuned to the demands of the moments, they are master of responding to challenges that arise spontaneously. they generally prefer to think things out for themselves and often avoid inter-personal conflicts.

The mechanics enjoy working together with other independent and highly skilled people and often like to seek fun and action, both in their work and personal life.

They enjoy adventure and risk such as in driving race cars or working as policemen and firefighters.

I wonder if I would make a good policemen though. I would not like firing a gun to anyone, or beating anyone up.

Firefighter perhaps.

Anger Management

2008-11-17T18:21:00.000-08:00

We have all heard about the counting down from 10 method. Though more people now advise 100 these days.

I was reading up this Wheel of Time series, and I found a very interesting way of containing one's anger. It is called the "River contained by the banks" technique. The book only tells of the name of the technique, and mentions that it is not uncommonly used by novices of the White Tower. I think the process of the technique would go something like this: To contain all your thoughts and give them a direction to flow, intead of anger letting your thoughts go haywire into many directions.

It is not a failed safe method though. The River cannot be contained by the banks when flood happens. I have come up with a few others, though more practical research needs to substantiate the hypothesis.

If one have a more controlled mind, then perhaps the "Mirror's true image" technique would work best for you, where you see yourself in the mirror, a calm and pure yourself, devoid of any anger or discomposure. This will calm your frayed nerves and cool your heated mind.

Or one may try the "Catterpillar transforms into butterfly" technique, where you see yourself immerse from the current umcomposed state into a calm, composed and elegant person, where anger transformed into forgiveness and warm hearted.

All these depends highly on the person's ability to remember to do these techniques before lashing out their anger: to remember to count for the count method to be successful, to remember the techniques of containment for the River to be contained, to remember the Magic Mirror to see your improved image, to remember to transform into a butterfly before the anger takes over you. Because all these have the technique have the fatal flaw of being forgotten at the most crucial moment: the heat of the moment when it is most required.

A palette of colours ( Chapter 3 of Broken Ice series)

2008-09-10T23:35:00.000-07:00

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The humming got louder; everything around seems to quiver with a hidden disturbance. The stranger had a fraction of second for the fear to register on his face before he exploded into thousands of bloody pieces; all splattered on the ground he was standing a second before.

Silence screamed.

Lei lay sprawled on the ground knocked by the force of explosion, drenched with blood and pieces of flesh; too shocked to move or speak. His mind was not yet ready to comprehend what just happened, his muscles not yet ready to obey. Then he heard it: footsteps, behind him, coming closer.

His every instinct was to run away. He urge his unyielding muscles to move, but they refuse to respond; deserting him in his hour of need. He forced his neck and slowly looked behind, wondering what form of horror approaches him; but he saw only a lady dressed all in brown and green, blending with the background of the clearing they were at. She passed where he was lying, and went over the ground splattered with blood and shredded flesh and seems to search for something among the mess. She seems satisfied with something and turned back to where he was.

She smiled to him as if this is the first time she noticed him. A spell seem to break, he can move now and tried to stand up. The lady was not very tall, he noticed, but enchantingly beautiful, and she wore a cloak that was between green and brown, and she seems to hide a tremendous power inside that cloak.

The lady seemed to beckon him without speaking, to follow her. His shaking leg moved forward on its own accord towards the path the lady pursued,deep into the wood.

~tbc~

Unjust! Unjust!

2008-08-26T09:47:00.000-07:00

I was wondering, as I most often do when I have nothing better to do, why do I write blogs.: I like reading other people's blogs, but surely, if I were to peruse my writings, I would find it undeniably depressing, moody and suicidal.

Coming to the title of the piece ( as I like to call my ramblings as), I remember Charlotte Bronte using this particular phrase, "Unjust, Unjust!" in Jane Eyre, when the protagonist was shut in the Red Room during her childhood.

Gawd help us!

Mr Manish Sabharwal, of Teamlease mentioned about the ovarian lottery in his guest lecture today, and I can't but help myself ponder upon how name games play an important part of our lives ( and for an unlucky few, deaths as well ).

Why do we have to blame the ovaries when the testicles are equally at fault! Surely I have not been taught the wrong life science lessons in my school classes: that it takes unfaltering effort from both of them for procreation!

Had I been Mr Warren Buffet ( then I would have been unimaginable rich, but that is beside the point here ), I would have rather chosen a more hygienic and unbiased name for the 'world is unfair' concept of his : perhaps "The game of the Winning Wombs' would have been more suited: though it is not totally unbiased to gender, it sounds a tad more hygienic and clinical.

To those of us who got the wrong ticket in the ovarian lottery, it would have been a consolation had we had a chance to play a game in the winning womb; that way everyone would have at least have a chance, however insignificant, to prove themselves and carve their t; and if we lose, then we would have had walked away proudly, with our head held high, saying, 'we tried' at the same time mumbling about sour grapes.

Those were the Halcyon days

2008-08-21T01:44:00.000-07:00

"Five were the years
that we had to bear!'

These two lines made me smile in retrospection, for it contrast wit the very image and impression these last five years left on me

We used to complain a lot about how things works in the institute, especially the pedagogy - fewer classes and more self studies, more projects and cases rather than firm theories. Now that I can look at it from an objective point of view, being no longer in the system, I realise what this particular method of pedagogy meant: rather than confusing the professor and making their life miserable, we have more time to question ourselves and reflect and go forward in a journey of self discovery and actualization. And that is as it should be, the teacher must only guide and the student must do the walking.

Not surprisingly, students go to all sorts of direction with their interest, and not only from the academic point of view. Exams are no longer of importance, for it is the gyan that takes front seat. It is funny how they manage to pass exams by studying just the day before the exam. But then, on deeper thought, exams are not to test our knowledge, but our cleverness. I wished I were still at school where all these things are straightforward: they ask questions and we answer. It was not so simple in engineering or mba: they ask questions and either we remain silent or we rant. lol

Well, that was what we wrote on our answer papers: rants. I wonder if any of our answer paper got checked; to get through all the 'diatribes on paper' of each and every student would be excruciatingly painful, even for the most patient of professor; my sympathies go to the professors and their assistants who actually does the checking of answers. Who in their rightful mind would want to read through boring tirades of shares and bonds from 50 different viewpoints? But that was the beauty of it! Multiple different viewpoints; we were not marshaled to think in only one direction or one solution, as we would have otherwise, in a formal theoretical pedagogy! That is what we called innovative thinking! Edison did it, we did too.

In reflection, I see a wholesome experience abundant with freedom, liberty and equality in terms of what we want to learn and what we actually learned. And I believe that such quality of education I would not have found anywhere, and that is why I am glad as glad can be, that I once walked in those hallowed hall of freedom learning!

Tryst with Tyranny

2008-07-03T23:04:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I would not call it 'tyranny' but, yes, it has been a hard time. I am exhausted both mentally and physically. To be alert all the time, to be always on the lookout, to be ever in attention, to be physically present, mentally there, an keep frothing forth words of wisdom. Is that what life is all about?

Dear Reader, all I ask for, in life, is to have a quiet, normal and peaceful life. Is that too much to ask for? Have I no right to wish something for myself? But no, I have to always keep my eyes open, to always look right and left, with a feeling of being targeted and preyed upon. Is this the life I asked for?

The answer does not come that easily. And I am not sure if it will ever come; with whatever knowledge I have, along with the EYE that SEES, I can only steer myself from all these things, and hide in a cocoon of my own formation.

But is that what I really want? And does anyone knows what they really want? Perhaps some enlightened soul does, but when I look around, everyone is as it should be - full of ignorance and uncertainty. If we know all the answers, then what is the meaning of living? If we have already discovered the meaning of life, what is the purpose of living at all!

The Road ahead and the road behind

2008-05-08T15:27:00.000-07:00

The Road ever goes on an on,
right from the door it starts
and leads to other roads.
And I with weary feet,
tread upon these roads,
footprints that I follow,
footprints that I left behind.
Fellow travelers that I met,
One dearer than the next,
but must always part
when the road divides.
And wither then? I do not know.

A better world

2008-05-01T14:27:00.000-07:00

If we smile a little more than we usually do,
If we wave as we say goodbye a little vigorously
If we sing a little loudly
I believe the world would be a better place.

A little smile as we pass by, someone hopeful,
brightens every passing soul.
A little word of comfort makes the burden lighter.
A little voice to the music, makes the heart fonder.
A little familiar touch makes life worth living.

This is not to be a regular poem, for it is not to be. As we come across everyday, people, unnoticed, unfelt or unheard... makes me wonder about life's small things. When I see a little smile on a stranger's face, it makes me want to smile too. Smiles are contagious. And so is singing. If I hear someone humming a song, I feel like joining the tune.
The world would be a better place to live, if we are not too miser with our smiles and words and touches. If we are little less selfish, maybe the world will be a little less wretched.

Passed by

2008-03-23T13:30:00.000-07:00

A bicycle rolled by, the child riding it expertly, half pedaling, half pushed by another child running behind, half laughing, half gasping.

The warn morning breeze of spring greeted Ketan, as he looked out of the only window of his 2nd floor apartment. How long has it been? 22 springs? The same breeze, the same warmth. The same empty street below. He took a deep breath of the freshness that is spring.

The minutes whilst away, as he lay by the window gazing out to the barren road below. What passes through his mind, none can tell. It has been 22 years since he finally got a job and moved out of his parent's. And ever since, in this small two room apartment, alone, living a quiet life.

Maybe he is looking back to his life; two and twenty years ago, he might have had dreams.; maybe he is dreaming about his old dreams, dreams that never came to pass. Maybe he is thinking about life, and how many more springs he have to endure, lying there, by the window gazing out to the empty street, until he can meet the final embrace of mother earth.

The two boys were arguing whose turn it was on the over-sized bicycle.

Tagged by Akshay Unplugged (

2008-03-23T10:55:00.000-07:00

I didn't see the tag before, otherwise I would have used this as an excuse to make a post. Well, and to make the previous post less conspicuous, otherwise, people may think I am suicidal and may start recommending counseling.

Yeah... Right...
So...
Eight things I am passionate about:

Books
Comics
Anime
HexRPG ( it is a role playing site I spend half my life time there )
Mythologies
Fairy tales and Happily ever afters.
Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings ( they are books but they totally deserves a separate mention )
Bats and Supes ( you won't know if you don't read comics )

Eight things I want to do before I die (In no particular order):

Live?
Shout out loud (I have never done so )
Write a song and Dedicate it to someone (anyone)
Write a Poem. I have never written a poem.
Write a book
Try not to become old
Plan my funeral
Leave everything I own for an orphanage.
I want to adopt a kid, but since I am dying young, I don't want to leave the child an orphan again. So, I gave up on that dream.

Eight things I say often:
The wheel weaves as the wheel wills.
I mean...
Actually...
lol
What must happen must happen because it cannot happen any other way.
Death is but the next great journey.
I feel old.
I am doing very well.

Eight books I’ve read recently:
Three men in a boat
Jane Eyre ( re-reading it for the nth time )
Tom Jones
Little Women
Mrs Dalloway
A hitch hiker's guide to the galaxy
Zen and the Art of motorcycle maintenance.
Life of Pi

Eight songs I could listen to, over and over:

Everyday I love you ( Boyzone )
Teer-Nazar- Dekhenge ( pakizah )
Start of something new ( High school musical )
Good morning Baltimore ( Hairspray )
When there was you and me ( High School Musical )
May it be ( LOTR-FoTR )
In dreams ( LOTR-FoTR)
A new day has come ( celine deon )

Eight things that attract me to my best friends:

Honesty
Good mannered
Trust
Sharing
Goodwill
Wishes
Dreams
Plain

Eight people I think should do this tag:

I could wish were it of any avail, that I could tag them. But they don't exist in this world of blogosphere.

Ketan
Kheroda
Kelvin
Arunjit
Ayo
Shashikanta
Ravikanta
Kanta

lol, I can make wishes, can't I?

'To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure"

2008-03-23T10:04:00.000-07:00

I was wondering, whether I have lived for too long, and the time to rest has come nigh. Well, some say they want to live for 120, or forever or such things, but I have no such desire. I just want to live, a few more years, that's it. Or maybe a few days. I think I have lived my life. I can proudly say that yes, I lived. It brings a smile to me when I say that. Because truly, I feel as if I have achieved what I lived for.

You may get the wrong idea that I am suicidal. No! Absolutely not! I shall never... when I am mentally sound, would not commit such a cowardly act! But you know, what I am saying is like, if something bad to me happens, and I am no longer there, I would happily pass away. And there will be no such thing like, 'if only' things.

I don't know what make me think of these things. When I was a child, I was afraid of death, that one day I would die. I was so young and childish. It makes me smile every time I reminisce those childish thoughts. I thought the moon keeps following me every night.

I have lived a happy life. I have experience what I could. I see a happy past. I livea happy present. I do not know wither then? Shall I be reborn again? Or pass on to nothingness? Shall I become one with the One? I do not know. But yes, I am ready for the next great adventure.

Chapter 2 - Captive (Broken Ice series)

2008-02-19T09:44:00.000-08:00

( contd. from previous chapter, try to overlook the tense conflict, was trying out present tense first person narration )
I walk in a trance like state, both my hands bounded with some thick rubbery ropes. My mind is in too much shock to absorb the abnormality of the circumstance. My captor, a hideous giant of a catman covered all in fur, walks a few feet before me.
It must be that I am dreaming, otherwise, there is no way such abnormality can exist in this world.

We reach a clearing, not unlike a large football field. The ground feels soft and the grasses are wet from the morning dew. The sun was blazing and the sky is yet to boast of the cloud.

The nightmarish creature turns back to me leaving me with a strong desire to cringe. His strong cat like feature retracts into subtle human form.
"Is this more comfortable for you to look at?"

I try to speak but not word would come out.

"I know this is an anomaly, a living full human, in bright daylight, in the middle of meedeel forest. I learned about your kind. I am Shin, high warrior of the Kaan Tribe, it is our duty to remove all anomalies out of this realm."

Accepting that the dream has gone too far to be unreal, and that this is really happening, I resign to the present.

"I am Lei, Lei Cha. Can you please tell me where I am, and why did you hit me so hard on my head and why have you tied me thus?"

It seems as if this person could change his look as he pleases, he now have a more shapely nose, the black dot he had for a nose was not becoming on his now humanlike feature.

"You are an anomaly in this world, and must be eliminated. Those who cross over here should have some kind of magic, dangerous magic and it should be prevented before it consumes us all."

It is hard to comprehend what he said, with the head throbbing madly from where he kicked me.
"Er... Can't I just go back and forget all about this? I promise I won't read any more fantasy." I smile weakly at my own joke.

"No, This clearing is as good as any for the cleansing." And he chants in a low voice, it sounded like an incantation or some kind of invocation.

A sudden feeling of urgency creeps up to me, and before I know what was happening, with lightning grace, a blue light engulfs around me. I dimly hear the low grinding sound before the blueness overcomes me.
( tbc)

Chapter 1: In a strange Land (Broken Ice)

2008-02-11T21:34:00.000-08:00

( contd from previous post )

...Little did he knew that the sunstone would suddenly enveloped him in a bright light. Any amount of struggle would not let him disentangle his finger from the stone. Suddenly something jerked in his navel. His last thought in this world was that he feels strangely light and airborne.

It was a few moments later that he collected his thoughts and found himself in his room, the sunstone now hanging warmly from his neck. He shook his head thinking he must be imagining things and deftly stomped on a crawling insect.

His noticed that it is unusually dark outside; and concurred that it must be late in the night; they never turn off the street lamps unless it is very late in the night.

Without changing his clothes, he went to bed, thinking he must be losing his mind and should stop reading so many fantasy books.
No Harry potter for you, Lei he reprimanded himself.

The next morning found him lively and cheerful. Unfortunately it didn't lasted long. As soon as he went out of his room, ready for whatever business he has with the world, his jaws dropped: there was trees everywhere... and insects.
"HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THOSE THAT WAS ONCE MERCIFUL!"
and promptly he feigned fainting, if those tricks in all those books he have read have taught him something, that is fainting makes everything back to normal.
They usually wake up in the normal world when they faint and regain consciousness, was his logical conclusion.

After a while he slowly opened one eye, he saw a tall leg of someone just in front of him.
Damn, who or what is this? I didn't heard anyone coming!

Suddenly, a foot kicked him and he reeled under the unfriendly contact. A sudden pain at the back of his head made sure that his wish for unconsciousness was finally granted.

(tbc)

Prologue: Little did he knows... (Broken Ice)

2008-02-06T05:23:00.000-08:00

Life goes on as it has always gone on ... that is ordinarily. And that is as it should be, he thought as he retires to his bed. He dreamt many ordinary dreams with ordinary beings. In the morning his alarm rings, exactly at 8:30 in the morning. He put off the alarm and tries to fulfill his eyes for another half an hour before his day finally starts. The same sun creeps up to his room through the wide window that his room has, and the same late morning breeze blows through it.

But little did Lei knows that today would be like no other day.

When he looked in the mirror, his usual thought crosses his mine, that 'he is growing old', an unusual thought for a 20 something. Then he notices the first deviation from the ordinary world that he knows: the sun stone he usually wears around his neck is missing. Dismissing it that it might have fallen off while he was sleeping, he searches for it, his bed, then he ransacks his room but to no avail. A curse or two came up to his mind but he dismissed them thinking they as not bad enough for the situation.

At half past eleven, Lei goes to his usual class; gave a surprise test; performed rather feebly in an interview for a job; and comes back to his room rather disgruntled. As he opens the door, and places the key on the table, he notices the sun-stone lying on the table. He gives himself an imaginary smack on his head, and picks up the sun-stone.

Little did he knows...

( tbc )

Die!

2008-02-02T00:04:00.000-08:00

I shall thrust you down into the dark depth of hell and crush you with a knife and twist it to my satisfaction, if you falter from your path.

I shall not have you turn tyrant on me. So if you value your worth, do not turn into the vile charms of passion. Instead, let me lead you to the promised land, with Reason and Conscience walking on your side.

The true path of freedom lies not in the stormy road that is filled with throes of passion, neither on the path of denial, but only in the path of surrender. Surrender yourself unto me, and you shall be free. Our quest stands upon the edge of a knife, stray but a little and we will fail. But hope remains when you are true.

Heart, listen to me and heed to my counsel, for I speak with Reason and Conscience by my side. Let us show you the true path of wisdom.

Sleep

2008-01-13T13:22:00.000-08:00

The night is getting old, and I must retire to bed, otherwise, tomorrow may forsake me.

Second Life

2007-11-26T09:28:00.000-08:00

Isn't it just frightening how events begin to break loose at an alarming rate as we move forward in time; perhaps due to the coming semester exams. Very Frightening. Here I was, minding my own business, a middle aged man ( I am 22, that makes me middle aged, right? ), engaging myself with my own obsession ( watching anime cartoons, not very adult like, I am sure ) and Oh my gosh!

... Which notes to read ... which teacher taught what subject ... er? when is the exam?...

Yes, funnily, it came to my attention only a few hours ago that tomorrow is the day the big exam starts. Surprisingly so, I am so calm. But then when have I ever got excited about anything?

On further contemplation, how am I going to study for tomorrow's exam when my other life ( virtual, on an RPG site ) has lots of business transaction to attend to, Christmas shopping to be done, relationships to manage, and pets to feed?

Fortunately, I am not one of the A plus guys so, I will sit down, attend all the needs of the second life, catch some more episodes of the Anime, and finally, I shall relax and chill with the books.

Well, it is time to cook the books, what else one can do with so little time for preparation. And I was under the impression that we had it bad during our school days.

Surprisingly enough, it is funny how people manage to pass exams by studying just the day before the exam. But then, on deeper thought, exams are not to test our knowledge, but our cleverness. I wish I were still at school where all these things are straightforward: they ask questions and we answer. Now a days it is not so simple, they ask questions and we rant. lol

Well, that is what we usually write on our answer papers... rants... I wonder if any of our answer paper gets checked; to get through all the 'diatribes on paper' of each and every student would be excruciatingly painful, even for the most patient of professor; maybe they just look on the name, and by some whim or caprice, they put an A or B or C on our grade sheets. Would not that be extremely convenient. Who in their rightful mind would want to read through boring tirades of shares and bonds from 50 different viewpoints? lol. I would not. But oh, look at the time...

-looks around-

Ahem, where was that book ....

Tired

2007-10-12T10:47:00.001-07:00

Sometimes
I feel tired.
Tired of living.
Of everything.

Time Time Time
You Old Gypsy
Would you not put your caravan down
And rest, just for one day?

Of an Elven Lad

2007-09-28T12:00:00.000-07:00

Thunder rolled in the Sky. Unseen to the naked eye, the elf cowered, high among the branches. A runaway elf, a youngling, even by the reckoning of men. Lightning flashed, revealing the hidden elf momentarily to his pursuer. The elf panicked, his sharp elven eyes darted here and there, looking for denser foliage, in the vain attempt to keep his presence hidden. Realising that further concealment is futile, his lithe elven body shivers from both fear and cold. He nocks a slick arrow on his elven bow. hIs sharp pointed ears raised in anticipation, trying to figure from which direction his pursuer would come.

He would not go back to Elehadras, the fair elven city, the city which he now despise. The city where she lives: the fair elven maiden who broke his young heart; he could no longer face his kindred, in shame of his heart. It has been a week since he left the city; he has not eaten since. It has been merely a few moments since was first aware of his pursuer; and he is frightened.

Suddenly a hand sprang out from the foliage behind him and grabbed his shoulder. The young elf yelped in fright and dropped his elven bows; and he fell. He fell and there was darkness.

Things I am doing

2007-09-20T23:50:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I am in short of things to write, so let's get to know me more!

What am I doing these days? Hmmm... that's easy: brooding. lol

Well, other than that:

1. Hexing. You would not know what it is. lol. It is an RPG site for Harry Potter. http://www.hexrpg.com
I am here 24/7

2. Reading this book called "Zen and the art of Motorcycle maintenance". It has nothing to do with Buddhist philosophy, motorcycle maintenance, or arts. lol. A friend asked to see how it is.

3. Catching up on Bleach. If you don't know what it is, you won't understand.

4. Trying not to attend classes.
5. Thinking. I have been doing that lot; putting a lot of strain on my remaining three brain cells.
6. Starving. Gah! what if I become fat!!
7. Filling Naruto Colour Book. Yes, you read it right.
8. Pondering over to have my hair cut or not.

I don't know what else I am doing. I think those are pretty much. Well, if you do these things, it gets interesting. You won't know of course.

Obituary

2007-09-19T13:06:00.000-07:00

He was once me. A romantic at heart, full of hope and love; he does not need a long obituary, for he no longer exist in this world.

Rest in Peace.
And don't rise from the dead, as is your wont.

Have you ever felt like....

2007-09-19T09:28:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt like something is wrong but you can't quite put your finger on it?
I do. All the time. Some people say it is called masculinity.

Since morning, I have this nagging feeling that something is quite wrong. I set out for the usual classes and lessons but I didn't feel like absorbing any new lessons. So I went for shopping instead. I didn't got all the thing mentioned in the last post but yes, I did managed to get most. I wish I could get all, especially the item no. 11 or 12. I don't mind which one, or if I can bargain, I want both.

Well, I have been thinking. I have always told myself ( and many others ) that I have learned now to not need anyone . But I have been debating myself whether it is really true. I thought about it. Two things I came up with. Yes, I think I have really learned that lesson well. But am I happy? To that question, I don't have a direct answer: I am not unhappy. Does that answer the question? No, it avoids the question altogether; somewhat cleverly.

Maybe I have been lying to myself. Maybe I am trying so hard to convince myself my saying it aloud again and again. Maybe, just maybe, I am a shadow of myself; pretending to be myself; a doppleganger; a pale imitation of what I once was, but no longer is.

Do I need a journey of self discovery? Where are the mountains and the valleys; where is the mountain top that has all the answer?
The Road ever goes on and on...

So Yeah, I changed

2007-09-17T01:52:00.000-07:00

Yes, I did. And I am no longer the same person who use to write this blog.
-giggles-
He gave me this account to me, so I am using it now.

So yeah, what should be my first post. Yes, I got it. Let us start by things I need.

Hmmm... that's pretty easy.

With no particular order of degree of requirement, I absolutely am in mortal need of these things:

1. A good Hair Conditioner. I don't think I can survive any longer if I am deprived of this live giving hair elixir.
2. Mouth Wash. Yeah, so. I suspect my best friends don't tell me about these anymore.
3. Green and Orange Tees. I have been looking at my closet and I found I don't have enough green and orange Tees. I would prefer bright ones.
4. A pencil Sharpner. You do not know you need one until you need one.
5. Skin Moisterizer. To maintain the perfect balance of moisture. The indian summer is a killer on the skin.
6. A new toothbrush. I think the one I am currently using is jinxed. It keeps dropping the paste on it.
7. Bathing Gel. Yes, I do take baths, in fact, I keep high regards for this particular ritual of soul cleansing. I prefer ylang ylang flavour in creme.
8. Candles. Lots of them, in various shades of colour. I prefer natural lights then the artificial ones.
9. A sweet romantic novel. Preferably some classic. Before 18th century. I don't like these post modern novels.
10. Anti-histamine tablets. I am allergic. To almost everything. lol. I need lots of them.
11. Time. I need to do a lot of things but I don't have time to do it. So I want lots of it.
12. Sweet fluffy romance. Wish I could get some. Have been long since the last one. It was good while it lasted.

I want to go shopping ...

A Tribute and A Promise

2007-08-29T23:41:00.000-07:00

He would always be Stranger's Inc to me. And I refuse to believe, I won't believe, I can't believe. I...

Stranger, Stranger, O dear friend
Won't you come back and wander the green fields of this earth
Which you so loved?
Won't you come and console us, with your ever soothing words
and make us with peace?
Why you wander far away from us where we cannot follow?

Through fen and field where the long grass grows
The west wind blows
"What news from the west, O wandering Wind, do you bring to me Tonight?
Have you seen a stranger clad all in Inc, by moon or by starlight?"

"I saw him ride over the seven streams, over roads wide and grey;
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The South Wind may have heard of him walking over the moor."

"O Stranger! From the high walls I looked afar,
But you came not from the empty lands where no men are."

"O The North Wind, you ever blow relentlessly with a purpose;
What news, O sighing winds, do you bring to me at eve?
Where now is our Stranger? He tarries and I grieve."

"Ask us not where he doth dwell - so many errands I have to run
Ask of the South Wind news of him the South wind sends to me!"

"O Stranger! We wait for you but you came not.
Tell us what tarries you in a land so far."

From the sea the South Wind comes, laden with mournful tread
"What news do you bring from the South, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?
What news of D'yer the M'aker? For he is long away. Delay us not with your mournful cries, do tell us what tarries our dear Stranger "

"Beneath the southern sky I heard his cry. His head so proud, his face so fair...but his voice was heard no longer hence..."

I can't write anymore...I don't have the strength left in me to continue.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

A fairy tale - Part 2

2007-08-28T10:09:00.000-07:00

We shall move forward in the course of the history as it is. To know a bit more about our dear boy, who had just lost his master, we shall try to form his thoughts in accordance to the happening of incidents of those moments. And I think it is high time for us to be introduced our character properly to our dear readers. His former master calls him, Matt. And he knows no other name.
To History then:

How the hours passed, I do not know, nor how I slept through the rain; I never knew that one could sleep through, in the rain; it was more like losing consciousness, either from exhaustion or grief. Grief because he was more than a master to me. He was my father, mother, protector, provider, supporter, teacher, friend and everything else in this world. He was the thing I holden on to this world; now I feel all lost. It feels strange. To be so utterly alone, to be so free, yet so afraid. What should I do?

"I shall go to Tamaran", the boy said to no one, exulting in his new found freedom. The morning was bright and warm, nothing remained of the night, except for a fresh mound of earth. A song bird chirped happily in the air, and that filled him with hope. Taking a last look at the mound of earth, where his master rest, he mounted the steed, which was his only possession.

"Fare well, Master"

And he rode. To Tamaran.

A fairy tale - Part 1

2007-08-18T02:35:00.000-07:00

...

And thus it came to pass that the evil queen, her power lost and ousted, fled the monastery and seeken the wild men of the north to take refuge; far away.

If you think you are going to read a fairy tale here, you may as well go elsewhere, for what I am going to relate is not a fairly tale with princess and dragons and charming prince.

But rather, I am going to relate history in its rightful form, without the author's imaginative intervention, as history is ought to be told. It begins thus...

It was raining. A young lad of 15; once he was happy, but that he cannot remember. He could only concentrate on the rain and the horse, the freshly dug grave, his dead master. The earth was soft; the spade made it a quick job; but the dead body was heavy. The boy half tug and half lifted the cold body; the body lifeless and limpid, followed his squire's motion until the it felt the embrace of the earth; cold and unforgiving.

The boy shivered in the chill; it was raining softly. He didn't feel sad but he felt utterly alone. He could not cry; he would not cry; something was stuck in his throat that prevents him from crying; maybe the pang that he was the reason his master is dead. The dim light of the crescent moon was enough for this young lad to pack up the things. He made some quiet prayers for his master. And without any remorse, he rode; to where, he does now know, but he rode.

A few hours later, he came back. To where his master lies. From the horse, he unmounted, and kneeled beside the grave; he could not leave; not just then.

The night was too young to leave the dead.

( History as it is; the author shall try to represent facts in an exact manner as is possible. An update each day is expected from the author, but he gave no promise )

Part I Have you seen the Rain?

2007-06-30T03:28:00.000-07:00

"Damn"
Rahul sweared looking up at the barren sky, not a speck of cloud was to be seen. Nearly 3 months have passed since it rained last. He lookied at me, and asked about the weather prediction. I smiled at him. Then he began to to tell me, "There was this silly girl, whom I love dearest, who is crazy like a colt, and believes that stars are god's daisy chain ( ahem ahem, plagiarism I hear). Oh, I almost forgot to mention, she also have this wierd idea that raim makes her more happy than anything. On reflection, I remember her alluding me as the rain of her heart, her life. But she also reminded me constantly that I am as unreliable as the rain; one time it is just a drizzle, another a sh9ower, sometimes accompanied with squall, sometimes thunder and lightening. You can get the general idea about what she thinks about the timing and the company I keep.

"But one day, she finally got frustrated with me. In the heat of an argument, she condemned me as a bringer of misery to her life and a destroyer of love ... And she went away, to a place wehre it does not rain, saying that the rain would remind her of me."

~tbc ( to be continued)

Part III The Morning After

2007-06-26T09:34:00.000-07:00

Meenakshi didn't open her eyes. She recollects her thoughts about the previous night. How blissful the night was. It rained all night, and the air did smelled of wet fulfilled earth.

In the veil of the darkness behind her eyelids, she imagines her fear - was it all a dream? were those touches she felts not long ago not for real? Were those comforting words the tricks of the winds?

Before opening her eyes, to confirm her too human curiousity, she holds her breath and feels around the bed. A warm answer of flesh on flesh answers her inquiring fingers. Only then she dared to pen her untrustful eyes.

Rahul sleeps beside her blissfully, his eyes restful and closed. Meenakshi watches him thus for unaccounted moments, trying to drink in the handsome face of youth. An unchecked smile plays on her face, telling the story of happiness, love and hopes coming alive.

part II Of Squalls and thunderstorms

2007-06-15T23:12:00.000-07:00

It was a dull Tuesday morning, the sky was a little darker then usual. A cool breezes wafts across the zagged plain of Safdurjung, touching one here, one there, with its cold fingers. Sometimes it stirs up some dried leaves and delivers them to unknown recipients. Meenakshi watches as thunders rolls on the sky, and brilliant lights threatens to tear the sky apart.

But she was most concerned with the rain. When would her rain come? At that moment a sweet sound of a song bird fill the june morning. Looking around, Meenakshi saw a boat-shaped black bird with white patches and a long black tail, with a crest on its head perched on the porch. Its feathers ruffled in the wind. Then the bird flew away.

In the evening, the sky had turned black, with streaks of blue lightening accompanied by heart stopping thunder. And it rained. Meenakshi ran out of her house to greet the rain with outstretched arms. She tilts her face upwards and the rain feels almost like a long forgotten kiss. Busy as she was embracing the rain, she didn’t notice Rahul coming but when she comes to her senses she finds herself in the arms of her long separated beloved. She looks deeply in his eyes. “It is raining”.

“I know.,” he replied, “That’s why I came.”

Part I The rain never came

2007-06-07T22:16:00.000-07:00

It didn’t rain tonight. Not that she expects any. The night sky glitters in mockery with clear twinkling stars which gave no comfort, only a little distraction while she imagine her fears. She sits on the chair on the porch waiting for something, maybe a little waft of zephyr breeze or someone else. The night slips by with only the moon to accompany her. The moon reminded her of the story where the moon waits for her love, the sun, but is forever destined not to, a dream which has no path to come to the realm of the real.

A breeze passes by but she didn’t notice, only the branches sway in acknowledgement. And Meenakshi, with a heavy heart sits silently, and waits for the non-existent cloud to give her some rain, with hope that the rain could quench the thirst inside her.

A turning in life

2007-06-06T02:17:00.000-07:00

There are times when life screams with the sheer heaviness of melancholy, and the feeling of loneliness arose to such height that you feel utterly forlorn and lost. And at such times only I must be strong. But valour first needs a strength and then a weapon. But when all hope is thus lost, where shall I find strength? And where shall I look for a weapon? The rusty axe have served me well, and now must retire; the courage, now too frail, cannot rise to hope.

Of 3 scores and 10, 50 more to go, and with weary feet must I pursue? Must I stay? And when all things seems utterly lost, and when the end beyond all means is looming, then and now I must despair. The old that is strong does not wither, they say; aye, it is true, but they do turn into stone, forever carven and set on solid earth.

Life, its fervid autumn heat wasted, must now pass on to the desolate winter, from where shall pass on the next great journey...

A flash of light
A myriad of colour
Of loud bangs and sudden disappearances

Where went the youth? Ask of the wind and the sun and the moon, but tell no tales of the youth. Where now is he?

What it is to die and live again? A blossoming of heart, a glimmer of hope, so bright was it, as if, Earendil, the evening star, most beloved of the elves have come down to rest upon there.

With eager feet I must now follow, and take some longer road, where then, I cannot say.

The uncertain future

2007-04-24T10:28:00.000-07:00

The future is treacherous and it is not always possible to foresee what it would bring, even with the keen vision of the Sightless Eye.

And as I sit here, I ponder what strange-eyed constellation would reign the sky, were I to be cast into the unknown and perilous future.

And where then will be those whom I once called friends? And where then shall be the one I loved?

What strange creatures would be beside me, and what strange tongue would my ears hear?

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

- Bilbo Baggins ( Lord of the Rings-Fellowship of the Ring)

Five years later...

2006-12-07T04:53:00.000-08:00

A professor asked me where do I see myself five years from now. And I pondered for a moment. And I came up with this.

It is said that 'to have low ambition is a crime'. And in that I am guilty. For my ambitions are modest and humble. I had got over such taste as I once might have had for the great and grand things, and now come to prefer what is plain and homely.

In five years from now, I see myself working in a lowly MNC as a small managerial staff, earning a humble salary.

And what about 30 years later?

I shall take an early retirement and live in a farmhouse. Every evening I shall sit down on the porch watching the sun set, with a smoking pipe on one hand, and a pen on the other, writing a the story of my life. Ah! Such a beautiful life I would have lived!

Silliness and Foolishness goes together

2006-11-26T07:36:00.001-08:00

Without further ado, I will put it straight out in the open that Girls are silly beings and Boys are equally foolish. And it is only fitting that girl would be silly enough to go out with a foolish boy, and a boy would be foolish enough not to know what is good for him and go out with a silly girl.

Strange how this things turns out. There is no lose ends left. Silliness and foolishness go hand in hand together. So what is the thing that happens when silliness meets with foolishness? Love. And that is why I always say that Love is one of the greatest blunder the so called sapient beings commits. And that is as it should be, for blunders are what silly and foolish people are good at.

One may get the general feeling that I am so against love. But such is not the case. I will relate an incident which happenned in medieval France. A woman of noble birth, along with her noble husband, was walking through the garden of Versailles. She noticed a peasant girl kissing a peasant boy. This noble Lady was intrigued by this so she asked her husband, "Do this commoners can feel this exquisite feeling called love, darling?" When her husband confirms her in the affirmative, she was quite disappointed, "But it is much too good for them".

And she was right ofcourse. Love is too good a thing for humans altogether and should only be reserved for only the most powerful of Gods.

Of all folly, the most unsurpassable

2006-11-05T00:06:00.000-08:00

What one must not do, of all the blunderings of humans, is to believe. And from believe, trust.

For 'believe' and 'trust' is the zenith of all human folly, followed closely by hope and love. Why or how should any sane sapient being indulge in these deadly matters is beyond comprehension. When I say 'believe', I mean the believe we held upon a person. We can always believe and have absolute faith in facts which are supported by the firm pillars of logic and reason. But certainly it is absurd to the point of insanity to believe in something on the mere basis of a fellow's promise and your faith in him.

I distrust anyone I come across and do not believe whit of a word another fellow is saying. And I distrust myself above all. For how can I have faith in myself when I have broken many a vow and promises I have made in the past. I always held that one should not trust even your other hand when dealing with this thing called life. For it is cunning and treacherous and one do not always know what the decietful future will bring.

Constant Vigilance, I say.

What rot!!

2006-10-30T14:12:00.001-08:00

Today, I have a lot of things to complain about so, I will just get on with it

Tennyson or one such fool of a chap ( don't remember who )wrote:

"
The year's at the Spring,
the day's at the morn,
morning's at seven,
the hill side's dew-pearled-

and continues with some such rot...

"The lark's on the wing, the snail's on the thorn.
God's in His Heaven, all's right with the world."

I mean, who asked his opinion?!
A blight of a poet comes out and tells us it's spring, whether you like it or not, when every evidence proves that is it otherwise. It is winter now, but no, the rot of a poet is adamant that a year is something which other season other than spring ought not to be.

Then he alludes to this rather funny idea that it is morning at seven. I was not aware that anything before 10 in the a.m could be refered to as morning. But no, the poet had to break the the fact, and twist the knife by revealing that at a certain hour when content creature should be sleeping on one's bed, the mornings are all said and done with. Which ofcourse, is total rot. I have not encountered a single morning before 10 o'clock in the a.m. and the notion that such a thing exist before that hour is hightly preposterous. Trust me, I am telling you from personal experience.

And then there is the thing about the eccentric view on larks and snails. One might pass off, that a lark can be delusional and could somehow be on the wings, but no matter how delusional a snail maybe, it would surely not impale itself on a thorn, of all places in the wide known universe, especially not so in the morning ( morning, if the poet deludes himself the hour to be ) . One would think a snail has some common sense and be going about minding its own business without sad incidents with thorns and what not, but clearly this blight of a poet seems to think otherwise. Sacrilege, I say, of fellow brethens of the living.

But the last straw is his blithe abandonment of the ways of religion, God, and the general well being of the world. How did this chap concurred that God is in His Heaven, one would never know, but to conclude all of this by saying that all of the things summed up that all of the world is well, that is a bit below the waist.

Let us suppose ( one of those supposition techniques, one so often find oneself using to prove or disprove a hypothesis ), that all the things this chap is saying is true, that it is spring ( even thought the cold winds of winter is blowing ) and that 7 O'clock can be remotely referred to as morning ( god forbid such thing ), and by some delusion on the part of the Lark, he/she is on his/her wings, and the snail feels particularly suicidal and wanted to impale itself on a thorn in this ungodly hour, for reasons unfathomable even to himself. Let us say all of these is somehow the case. What I do not get is, how in the dickens does this make all the world well? A daffy old blighter of a poet he must have been. Still no harm done as long as one do not take him seriously.

All is well, bah! if he only knows what is going at my neighbours and what happenned at the marketplace yesterday. Some bloke who has no clue of the world.

The West Wind blows

2006-10-22T09:05:00.000-07:00

I felt it then, that the stillness, the ennui, is just the calmness before the storm. Then a soft breeze came, pleasing the tired trees, releasing the leaves from their stifled hold on life. For them, it was the beginning of another journey. It is for the living that falling leaves pitied for. For the West Wind comes.

I felt Him coming, and chilled the very bones of mine. Now He blows relentlessly against the windows, asking for entry, disguising once as an old lady, another time as a homeless orphan. I can not, and shall not, let Him touch me, for the west wind bring the most dangerous of all Evil - Change.

The cold West Wind blows, extending His icy fingers, touching one here and one there, changing the lives of unsuspecting victims. But change has never been easy, especially to those who do not like to be forced to change. But without change, there would be stagnation and decay.

The fallen leaves had it easy, for they knew, that to survive the cold winter, one must preserve what ought to be preserved, and prune whenever there is a necessity. For the only thing that does not change is change. And this the West Wind knows.

I can still hear Him rattling on the windows.

Not suppose to love you anymore

2006-08-20T09:40:00.000-07:00

I stole this from somewhere. Bite me!

We agreed that it was over
Now the lines have all been drawn
The vows we made begin to fade but now they’re gone
Put your pictures in a shoe box
And my [sliver]ring in the drawer.
I’m not supposed to love you anymore.

Now my friend says he's jealous
of this freedom that I found
he would be; he would be out on the town
and he says; he can’t imagine
what on earth I’m waiting for.
I’m not supposed to love you anymore.

Oh I shouldn’t care of wonder where and how you are
But I can’t hide this hurt inside my broken heart
I’m fighting back emotions that I’ve never fought before
‘cause I’m not supposed to love you anymore.

If I could turn back time
If I could find a way
I’d take back those words that hurt you and you’d stay.

I don’t know why I did the things I did
I don’t know why I said the things I said
Loves like a knife it can cut deep inside
Words are like weapons, they wound sometimes.

I didn’t really mean to hurt you
I didn’t wanna see you go
I know I made you cry, but baby,

If I could turn back time
If I could find a way
I’d take back those words that hurt you
And you’d stay.

If I could reach the stars
I’d give them all to you
Then you’d love me, love me like you used to do.
If I could turn back time.

But I lost everything darling then and there
Too strong to tell you I was sorry
Too proud to tell you I was wrong
I know that I was blind,

Don’t let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see
I’d just allow a fragment of your life to wander free
But losing everything is like the sun going down on me.

I can’t find all the right romantic lines
But see me once and see the way I feel
Don’t discard me just because you think I mean you harm
But these cuts I have, oh they need love to help them heal.

Life goes on...

2006-07-11T09:01:00.000-07:00

I have always had this way with reason and logic, that I will always be guided by Reason and led by Logic. And this outlook has always led me to where I wanted to be.

Sometimes, I am only too human and begin to doubt myself, how do I know that I am not blinded by Reason and intoxicated by Logic? Should I not let passion take over me and run ramphant? Why should I not let lust guide me into the deepest depth of feelings?

Conscience, as always puts up his objection, Reason and Logic on his sides and glares at me as if I am something abominable for even thinking like this. I dislike myself at times like this.

A Prayer

2006-07-07T08:51:00.000-07:00

My Lord, I ask you not mercy for I deserve none, nor do I ask forgiveness for that is impossible to get. I pray not, to make me happy and not, to take all my sorrows away.

For who am I to ask such? How can one so underserving as I, ask anything, my Lord.

But I beseech you my Lord to never make me forget you, to always be in my heart. I ask you to give me strengh to believe in you always, that my faith in you never falters.

For a mere human I am, without a knowledge of what the unrevealed future may bring.

Being Wise

2006-06-21T11:46:00.000-07:00

Once a person asked me, "What is the difference between intelligence and wisdom, do not they allude to the same power of our cognitive mind?".

I gave not the answer then, for I knew not.

That was then.I have become wiser, and hence I know. Intelligence is born, not made, whereas wisdom is made and cultured. One can see many an intelligent child, but not a wise one, for wisdom is only for the aged. The old persist, but the young withers. One is born intelligent, but to garner wisdom, one has to go through the tough road of experience and gather the fruits of the old.

"But how do we become wise?", another asked.I answered, "By going through the road of experience and gathering the fruits of the old. We listen to wise men speak, we soak things from the experience of others, for we may not live long enough to experience all things in a lifetime, yet we must know of them."

Yes, one may not live long enough to experience all things himself, for we are of the mortal race.

Resurgam

2006-06-18T09:29:00.000-07:00

There was. And many things have come to pass since. Some of which I am aware of their passing, other things unbidden. Many things I know of, yet I do not know all. Many things I feel, yet my senses are limited. Wisdom I may have yet I may not be wise.

To the living, the meaning of life may not be as clear as to the death. For who better than those who are denied of being alive would know what being alive truly means.

Many moons before, darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought; and I wandered far on roads that I shall not tell.

And then there was light, and I felt life in me again. Many things I have forgotten that I learned in the past, and I have learned much that I have forgotten. And where now?

Eureka! Eureka!

2006-03-08T06:45:00.000-08:00

No, I shall not debauch myself to such a low level and run naked shouting Eureka! Eureka! But such is the thing I want to do at the present. For I have come across the thing that I was missing for.

I feel, and hence I am aware. I feel that something has returned to me, which has been denied to me for long, a vital part and hence I am now aware that I am complete.

In the night, peacefully I sleep, for now, its presence make me feel contend . I no longer inquire those intriquing questions, for they are meaning less now. And in the night, my unconcious mind does wander to places that are ...natural.

But what is it that I have found? What makes me so complete.

My-self. I found myself. My long journey has been quite meaningless. I searched everywhere, but in the quest, I forgot to search the most unlikely place: my-self.

In the vain pursuit of knowledge, I had forgotten the absolute truth.
In the search of someone, I had forgotten myself.
In the process of finding happiness, I had forgotten to be happy.

So, it was there all along with me. Absurbly simple, like most quest when you reached your destination. Now, I am contend, and happy, for I have found the long lost me, and I feel complete. I have never loved myself so much before. If Narcissus were in front of me, he would be ashamed of himself; for, he could not have loved himself more so.

But does that mean I am narcissic? I love myself, yes, but I shall not waste myself on my reflection on a clear pool of water. But who knows, if the three sisters of fate thus condemned me to, I shall have no choice but to share the fate of Narcisuss. For I do love myself hopelessly.

Something Missing

2006-03-03T07:16:00.000-08:00

I feel, and hence I am aware. I feel that something has been taken off me, a vital part and hence I am aware that I am incomplete. No it is not that.

I was whole and complete. And suddenly, a new awareness came and I was stripped off. It was pain beyond all pain. And I was naked. Incomplete. Not whole.

I lay awake in the night, because I cannot sleep. I keep thinking. What is the thing that is not present? What is making me incomplete? Why am I feeling these new sensations? Why are these emotions surging through me and rebel insolently against my will? And in the night, why does my concious mind wander to places that are ... not natural?

Revelations, I had none to all these questions. I shall not be passionate. I shall not have it. I shall have my Conscience lead me and have Reason as my guide. I shall thurst Passion down to unsounded depths of agony, where she cannot see the living day lights.
But can I?
Can Conscience and Reason keep Passion in check as it has done so till now? In her throes, will she revolt for freedom from the bonds of both conventionality and morality?

My whole being is in rebellion. And there shall be mutiny. And the end will be near.

Where now are you? Shall you not arise and salvage me from this deep slough of agony. My missing part, shall you not come and take me by the hands and complete me.

Where now are you? And where shall I find you?
Will my lament be left unheard and wasted in the wilderness?
Where now are you?

Tag Tagged Tagged

2006-02-24T07:33:00.000-08:00

A tag from Milo.
I am suppose to write 8 points that would bring a girl close to.. being my perfect lover.

Hmmm this is difficult. But let me see if I can have a go at it.

1) Female

2) Plain

3) Simple

4) Homely

5) Ordinary

6) Modest

7) Good Natured

8) Soft Spoken

It always was my way, by instinct--ever to meet the brief with brevity, the direct with plainness.

Conventionality is not morality. And as such I shall not tag anyone for I know many people are flooded with tags right now.

Alas!

2006-02-19T03:14:00.000-08:00

When Gd made me, He made me ordinary. And right from that day I have remained forever so.

When life give difficulties there are those who stand up to fight and resist to be carried away. There aer those who figts against the strong currents of fate and destiny. But I am not one of them. I just accepts whatever life throws at me. I just let myself be carried by the currents of fate. For I have no strenght either to fight or resist. Valour first needs strength and then a weapon. I have none.

Is really there a place in this world for the weak? Do we have the right to survive in this world where the meek are ostracised and the weak are trampled? Is being weak a sin; for which we have to atone it as we live in this cursed life? Which world shall the meek inherit?

We, the weak, the coward lot are born to suffer. We are destinied to live wretched and die accursed. Alas! but that is the fate that is in store for us. For us there is no hope, only darkness and to accept whatever is given to us.

But complain we do not! We do not ask "Why me?" For we are glad that we got a part, however infinitesimally small and immaterial it may be, in God's intricate play in this web of life.

Explanation of previous post

2006-02-09T23:44:00.000-08:00

The little snippet was :

( A fair lady was talking to her friend about how she was lured into love )

'And long upon these terms I held my city,

(She ever try refuse to return the love of this charming man. City, in this sentence means her heart. She tries to defend her heart away from this man who is so dangerous to her heart.

Till thus he 'gan besiege me: "Gentle maid,

( But when he spoke thus enchanging my heart : "My fair gentle lady, )

Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,

( Do feel pity of my youth that is suffering from want of love of yours )

And be not of my holy vows afraid.

( And don't be afraid that I have made my holy vows. Meaning : I am still single. )

That's to ye sworn to none was ever said;

( Because that holy vow I will never sworn to anyone but you; )

For feasts of love I have been called unto,

(For I have fallen madly in love with you, )

Till now did ne'er invite nor never woo.

( And to this moment, I have never invited love or accepted love . )

Well that was the best I can do to explain the snippet.

( I wil be taking a short break from the blogworld for my health is in a delicate state. )

Unspoken words

2006-02-07T05:12:00.000-08:00

Gentle reader, I had not the courage to write down the simple goings of my simple mind. So, I will write something I found quite romantic and tantalising. On the notebook I have, these were written

'And long upon these terms I held my city,

Till thus he 'gan besiege me: "Gentle maid,

Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,

And be not of my holy vows afraid.

That's to ye sworn to none was ever said;

For feasts of love I have been called unto,

Till now did ne'er invite nor never woo.

There and back again

2006-01-30T19:52:00.000-08:00

I think it would do no justice if I write all that happenned during the short holiday I took. I will just say that it was a journey of life's many, with all the ups and downs.

Now that I am back, I shall continue with my search for the meaning of life.

Taking a Break

2006-01-20T20:36:00.001-08:00

Another time has come to take yet another break from the normal humdrum of life. It is dangerous to put one's feet on the road, for one may never know where it will sweep you off. And unwisely, I have put my feet on the path that can lead to the Mirkwood or to the lonely mountain. I bid adieu to you gentle reader. Until we meet again.

Nostalgia - A phenomenon

2006-01-13T07:55:00.000-08:00

I had got over any such taste as I might once have had for ornamented and redundant composition, and come to prefer what was plain and homely. And as such, a tide of Nostalgia flushed over the composition of my being, overwhelming the general consciousness of mine. I didn't realized that the past is so heavenly sweet -- and so deadly sad, that to reminisce one incident of it would dissolve my courage and break down my energy.

It is said that to the elves memories are like living moments. But to us, mere mortals, it is not so. The memory cannot fulfill the exotic stimulation of the present which so much excites the mind. A reminisces of the past is not like the living visit of the moment, however fresh and vivid one's memory may be.

Yet, to be reminded of the happenings of one's past by the true force of one's memory, one staggers to face the happenings of the time that went by. I remember that time when all hope have left me and I was felled into despair; when I saw the end beyond all doubt. Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never shed such stormy tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agonized as in that hour left my lips.

In such incidence, I am glad that we are not elves but simple mortals, for to live the memories again would be agony beyond all misery. But now, I look forward to the future, which to me is an awful blank, something like the world when the deluge was gone by. Yet, a promise lives that all green things will again grow.

Winter's Heart

2006-01-08T05:36:00.001-08:00

Let me tell from the start that my regards for the season of winter is not a very nice one. Since I encountered Her at the very beginning of my life, I have always detest the way she manifested herself in the cold blooded way. Still I didn't had the power to tell Her that She is an offence to the senses.

The way she glides along here and there, extending Her icy fingers to catch the unawares, her lithe grace befooling simpletons, making Her way into other people's houses without any invitations, Her crimes are limitless! She may suddenly swoop down an old person and BAM!! The elderly didn't knew what hit him/her.

And the friends that She puts up with, they are despicable. There is this Pneumonia who thinks she is the prettiest of all, and the Common Cold, a sick old bastard who love torturing people, from her neighbourhood. They are the worst. They will strut around together with no care for the others, pulling pranks on some small children, or some old fellow, the list of their crime is endless.

I will be glad when this season who calls Herself Winter would take Her long vaccation. Life was quite and content when she was not around. But she is now for stay for another month or so!! I don't know how I can put up with Her for that long.

May the gods have mercy on those who were touched my the icy fingers of the Winter!

I thank my maker

2006-01-01T20:34:00.000-08:00

Once I got sick, not life threatening but seriously ill and much painful. During that time, a friend came to visit me and ask cordially how I am feeling, I told him I am getting better everyday and to keep up the conversation, I asked him how was his day, He said, "I watched three movies today and played many games of TT(table tennis), but I feel bored," he take a look at me and continued, "But you must feel pretty much more bored lying down own your bed all day.

I gave him a surprised look, "Me bored", I exclaimed, "How can I feel boredom when ever breath I take is a fight with death, ever moment is a struggle to keep alive"

He was surprised. And after some moments, he went to play TT again. What I didn't told him is that, in between all the fighting and struggling, I thank my maker, that in the midst of judgement, he has remembered mercy and kept me alive so far.

The Holiday

2005-12-28T11:46:00.000-08:00

It has been an exhilarating holiday. I will recapitulate the incidents of those days in as exact a manner as possible. First, I went to Vrindavan, where my mother was at that time. The next day along with all the Iskon people, we went to Jaipur and came back on the same day on an appalling bus, which flattened my posterior. Then I was at Vrindavan again. It was lots of fun waking up at 3 am in the morning and taking a not so warm bath to attend some ‘mangal arti’. And that was nothing compared to the excellent 22 km barefoot walk for the Vrindavan Parikrama and the following 24 km barefoot walk for the Govardhan Parikrama the day after. The sole of my feet is never the same after that. The next day, a visit to all the important temples took all the time for sun up to sundown, and by the time we reach back to where we were lodging, I was surprised that I still have my feet with me. Since my feet are intact the following morning, we again set out to conquer the intricate labyrinth that was the market of Vrindavan. As expected, it took us all the daylight out of us when we returned. My mother was not to be put down with such minor things as physical exhaustion, so we again set out for a tour to the city of Taj, where awaits the romantic Taj Mahal. I never understood what is so romantic about big scrapes of marble on a tomb. Ofcourse when we were returning we could not skip the beauty of the city of Mathura. Those were my days during the first half of the Holidays.

On the day after returning from Agra, we left for delhi. And that day, my mother left for home, and I stayed behind at my brother’s place. For 3 straight days I sleep and eat and sleep again. But I came to know that it was the season for fest in the colleges of delhi university. So, promptly, I went to my friend’s place, who is a student of a DU college and together we went to many college fest. The first one was at SRCC( Sri Ram College of Commerce ). On the first day they called Bombay Vikings. It was good but not that much good. Next day we went to Ramjas and just absorbed the college spirit. It was fun. And yes, the Jam session was quite rocking. The next day, Aryans performed at Ramjas and Band of Boys at Daulat Ram at the same time. We chose Aryans. Later, we went to SRCC and enjoyed live Rock from ‘Them Clones" and another band called something like ‘Helgas Fungus’. After all those, I again came back to my brother’s place and took up sleeping and eating again. And with that my holidays came to an end.

Holiday season again!!

2005-12-06T20:48:00.000-08:00

Quite a winter it has been. And since the exam is all done and well, I am off to another holiday now. I am going first to Vrindavan, then to Jaipur, then to Delhi, and whither then? I do not know.

Bilbo once said, "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to. Do you realize that this is the very path that goes through Mirkwood, and that if you let it, it might take you to the Lonely Mountain or even further and to worse places?" He used to say that on the path outside the front door at Bag End, especially after he had been out for a long walk.

And after that he used to sing softly to himself,

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

And whither then? I cannot say too. But I am sure the road will sweep me for another 20 or so days.

Von Voyage to me.

I am the Mask

2005-11-24T08:20:00.000-08:00

Being truely alive is an art. And everyone hopes to live life to the fullest. And me being an ordinary person, hopes the same. Many are my friends at many places and most of them tells me that my face is so spontaneous and so very easy to decipher. But the closest of them also tells me that the spontaneity itself is the mask to hide the mask I am putting on. What a terrible thing!! I am being accused of wearing a mask to hide the mask which is masking me?!! That sounds ridiculous.

Many have this notion that our eyes never lies. Even masks have an openning especially for the eyes saying that the mask cannot hide the eyes. But how wrong they are. For the greatest lies were concieved by the eyes.

Being scarcely cognisant of my movements, and solicitious only to appear calm; and, above all, to control the working muscles of my face-- which I feel rebel insolently against my will, and struggle to express what I had resolved to conceal. Fortunately, I have a viel, the eye-- and it is down. The eye succeeds where the mask fails.

The mask does not hide the eyes because the eye itself is a conjuror of all lies.

I did not felt any necessity to hide behind any mask. What people failed to understand is that I am not the person who is beneath the mask, I am the Mask they think I am wearing. People are so desperate to discover the person behind the mask that they forgot all about the mask and dismissed it just as a mere mask.

Ordinary person makes ordinary mistakes. And I like many others does the same. I should have hidden behind some mask so people would take off my mask and know me. But I did not. I chose bareness, and people took my bareness as the viel, and the viel as the mask.

But in the end, I end up being a Mask.

In Dreams

2005-11-15T05:20:00.000-08:00

It had seemed to me almost impossible at first to feel reality in dreams. But now, I know fully well that the realm of Morpheus is as real and as alive as the world of reality.

Tel 'aran rhiod, as Robert Jordan puts it in his 'Wheel of Time' series, where we are manifested alive in the Dream World. One may almost put it in a more definitive term as 'Living in Dreams'.

I know I sound bizare. We cannot live in the Dreams. It sounds absolutely bizare even to think about accomplishing something in dreams, for it is only a dream.

In the Book 'Intrepretation of Dreams' by Dr. Sigmund Freud, Mr. Freud lucidy explained why we dream, what we dream and how we dream. And Mr. Freud was of the opinion that we dream so as to fulfil the wishes of our waking life. Which can be interpreted as we almost live a life in our dreams, and making accomplishments which we can only dream of in the waking world!!

After much practice and perseveration, I atlast have learn how to weave dreams and continue with a life which is so different from the life that I pursue in wakefulness. I am not saying that I have abandon the habit of living in the real world. I am saying that it is possible to live in another world where we can experience things that we can only dream of.

In the Land of Morpheus where the shadows lie.

Her Tristan

2005-11-10T12:27:00.000-08:00

Manish Tagged me to write a story that starts along these line ...

She ran her hands over his face, his hair, tears streaming down her face all the while...

A vulture cried from afar but she was quite oblivious to that. Her Tristan was lying on the ground, his eyes closed, and arrows sticking out at odd angles from his body. Her Tristan.

He promised he would come back. Fighting her tears to see him clearly, running her hands over and over on his handsome face… that face… she hasn’t forgotten the first time she saw this handsome face. The smile that stole her heart, she still remembers.

He promised he would come back. Her Tristan. Fighting back memories and flinging them aside, she picked his head up on her lap, in hopeless hope of giving him some comfort. And she sang to him ever so softly

When the cold of winter comes
Starless night will cover day
In the veiling of the sun
We will walk in bitter rain

But in dreams
I can hear your name
And in dreams
We will meet again

When the seas and mountains fall
And we come, to end of days
In the dark I hear a call
Calling me there,
I will go there
And back again

When she finished the song, silence filled the battlefield, and her Tristan lay motionless. And lo! Her eyes no longer accused him for breaking the promise. Putting his back on the merciless ground she stood up and looked down at his beautiful face. Her Tristan. A horn blew somewhere but she no longer cared.

“I am coming”, she murmured softly to the wind .

A life ordinarily ordinary

2005-11-08T19:33:00.000-08:00

Being Ordinary is like being in love; you just know you are ordinary only when you are ordinary. And like love, it has the most intoxicating element : contentment.

And I love being ordinary and I want everything normal, thank you very much. But I am not so much ordinary as to come close to being extraordinarily ordinary. That would be against being ordinary. I am ordinary only to the limit of being ordinarily ordinary. I do not want to relinquish the idea of ordinary by being extraordinary in it.

Life is beautiful when one sees it from an ordinary point of view. If we contort ourselves and try to fit into something less ordinary, we contort ourselves and in turn produce irregularities to the view we see. And sometime the irregularities is so much that it often mislead us. People who sees life as frustrating are those who are tired of being ordinary, who have become less ordinary and no longer percieve life through ordinary eyes but through less ordinary eyes.

Being Ordinary is like being in love. The difference being, in being ordinary, you are in love with yourself, in a most narcissistic way.

Caught Unaware

2005-11-07T11:42:00.002-08:00

Tagged by Dhruv

I have been caught unaware by Dhruv and it seems I have disclosed much in the following. I am in a ‘no nonsense’ mood today so I will try to be brief

1. I am what I am and I do what I want
2. I am also slightly mental
3. It is my dear ambition to retire to a farm house when I am old. I would love to watch the chickens on the courtyard and see the sun set, sitting at the front porch with a smoke pike on one hand and the evening news on the other.
4. I am a perfectly ordinary guy and I am happy being ordinary, thank you very much
5. I roll my eyes when I get exasperated. I know it is not a good thing but my eyes go up automatically. It is an involuntary thing.
6. I like Harry Potter books.
7. I don’t like ice-cream.
8. I like my mother more than my father.
9. In case you have not noticed yet, I use the word ‘I’ too much. I guess that makes me egotistical.
10. I consider Chicken soup as the best food in the entire universe.
11. I truly believe that life is beautiful
12. I wanted to be doctor but after reading a book called ‘Doctors” by Dr. Eric Seagal, I decided that it is not my type.
13. I like reading Fantasy Books. I am reading The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan.
14. It is very hard for me to get bored. I can stare at a stone for a whole day and fine interesting thing about it to last me another extra whole day.
15. I like to be pampered. I think having a hair wash at the saloon is a good way to pamper myself.
16. My friends told me that I sleep with my eyes open. But they also told me that I look so vulnerable when I am asleep.
17. I think I am anorexic. I am narcissistic too. But luckily I am not Masochistic and not Sadistic.
18. It always was my way, by instinct--ever to meet the brief with brevity, the direct with plainness.
19. I don’t like sweets. Maybe it is an after effect of Anorexia.
20. I shall remain a bachelor my whole life. I will adopt two children and will grow old.

I think that is it. My ‘No nonsense’ mood is still there so I will just say that it was not easy being tagged.

Bad is not Bad

2005-10-22T06:38:00.000-07:00

Is there no good left in this world? Has evil finally taken over in the guise of goodness? I think this is the case. For in this world that we live, bad things are not bad and good things are no longer good anymore.

A thing which is bad must be so inherently evil that every manifestation of it should always reek of vileness.

And a thing which is good must be so inherently divine that every manifestation of it should be virtuous in every sense.

But alas it is not so. For some may think thieving is a bad thing, but to the thief who sustains his life from it, it is a mortally blessed thing, for he would go hungry if he does not do that. To him it is not bad.

We may punish the thief taking it is a good thing to do, but is it really good to punish someone who did what he did only to sustain himself?

I personally have no compassion for thieves or robbers or anything conventionally bad, but sometimes, I wonder what is really bad and what is really good. Is cheating on someone bad? What if I have a good intention for it? What is bad is not bad and what is not good is not good.

My mind is in dilemma. Are we truly that far from being a righteous being, have we all become the minions of evil, where bad things are not bad and good thing are not good? Have we altogether lost the true path of the goodness?

Every being on this world believe that whatever he does, its ultimate goal is goodness. If he cheats in the exam, it is to get good marks so that he gets a good result which in turn helps him get him a good job which in turn will sustain his family in a good way. Doing a good thing which has ‘cheating’ as the base of it, is it really good, or is bad? It is neither, for what is bad is not bad and what is good is not good.

Holiday

2005-10-16T11:10:00.000-07:00

I am back from my long deserved holiday and it was ...Fabulous. That's the only thing I can say. Me, my cousins and siblings decided to go for a short holiday. We planned to meet at Delhi. First we went to dehra dun, which is a place of botanical miracle. People were very friendly. Then we went to Mussorie ( I hope the spelling is correct ). Such a cool place. Pity it was not winter or we would have had snow there. Still, the weather was very cold. We all suffered from acute coldness during the whole of the trip there. The wind was dead chilly. Two of my cousins freaked out when we went over the tram. The tram stuck for about 5 minutes in midair. I suspect it was a power failure but, two of my cousins freaked out, they refuse to talk about anything for 5 whole minutes. When they regained the power of speech, which was miraculously lost some time back, both of them sweared they would never climb on another tram in there entire combined life. I didn't take them seriously; you know girls can be so silly. They will say one thing and another moment they will say the opposite. Why? These cousins of mine made me steal a flower from the protected garden and at the same time gave me a full fledge lecture on how flowers should not be plucked unnecessarily. And they made me go to the side of a hill, just to take a rhizobium( modified stem ) of a plant so that they can take it to their own garden!! Girls are so silly. I don't know why they like flowers so much.

We all came back to Delhi and transfigured ourselves into vampire bats; we haunted the night life in Delhi and devoured in the flesh of humanity. Being with girls are lot safer in Delhi then in Mussorie, I learned with painful experience. In Delhi, they do not asked for crazy stuffs like plucking exotic flowers from the wild side of the hill, where you are half scared of falling down the crevices and half jubilant for coming back unscathed. Whew, Girls are plain silly, especially my cousins. Why? They should ask their bfs to do all those things, not their plain old cousin me. But ofcourse there were no bfs there so the silly things are dumped on me. Poor me.

A Long Expected Holiday

2005-10-09T23:47:00.000-07:00

Finally I decided to go on a Holiday. It is a long needed one. Too much stress and too much about yourself can kill you so one needs to spend some time away from himself. Some may think, this is a kind of running away from self, but one must concur that running away is quite different from distancing oneself. By distancing oneself, he can view at his life from another's point of view. Anyway, I will not be in the blogworld for about a week now. I know it is not a long holiday but this is the best I can afford, timewise. There are exams to give, books to read, assignments to complete, people to convince and blogs to read and write. So, I have only a week! Fair Deal. See you guys.

The onset of Autumn

2005-09-29T08:32:00.000-07:00

September faded into nothingness, leaving behind only a fleeting shadow of cherished dreams. And here now is October, with her long flowing autumn raiment. The warm glow of the autumn evening is seducing the leaves to leave their tree and fall blissfully into the void. And the evening star shone so bright as to give hope and endurance to last through the cold and harsh coming winter.

But it is not only the lovely Venus; Mars have come forth with all its fiery and loomed in the sky with alarming brightness. It could only mean on thing. Mars have never been a good lier: War is at hand, Violence is near, Listen for the cry of the battle and be prepared, it says. Mars, the god of War.

And wise old Jupiter sat quite dim never flashing it's multihued brilliance. Waiting for something. He has been more careful while dealing out Luck this time. He only imparts wisdom and intelligence freely but seldom luck, which is unusual for a planet,the luckiest of them all.

To the mundane eyes they are just a piece of light hangling in the sky. But for those who have the Eye to see, they reveals a lot. The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the Celestial Dance.

Giving Advice

2005-09-20T13:14:00.000-07:00

Have you ever got advice unasked for? Have you given advice to your close and dear ones, without their asking for it? We all have done this, and sometimes, we may regret upon it. We take advice only from those who are superior to us; and who indeed are superior to each of ourselves?

I often say to my friends, “Come not to me for counsel, for I will say both no and yes”. I seldom give unguarded advice, for advice is a dangerous gift, even from the wise to the wise, and all courses may run ill.How can I give advice to another when he has not told me all concerning himself. Who knows better than him about himself; and how then shall I choose better than him? And seldom do I heed to other’s advice, for advice is taken only from those who are superior. And who is more superior to me? Vain, am I not?

But counsel I give and counsel I take. For counsel means the act of exchanging ideas and thought, without acting superior to the other person. Isn’t it wonderful?! It is.

Pandora's Box

2005-09-18T20:44:00.000-07:00

It is a compulsion that I should write a blog about Pandora now, for a promised was made. I believe that most of you might have heard about Pandora’s Box. The legend goes like this:

The king of gods, Zeus(Jupiter) blessed man by giving him woman, Pandora and she was furnished with a box containing her marriage presents, into which every god had put some blessing. It was told to Pandora that the Box should not be opened.

But unwittingly she, overcame with curiosity, opened it and all the contents flew out. Pandora hastened to replace the lid! But, alas! The whole contents of the jar had escaped, one thing only excepted, which lay at the bottom, and that was hope.

So we see to this day, whatever evils are abroad, hope never entirely leaves us; and while we have that, no amount of other ills can make us completely wretched. For a person is not so wretched as the one who has lost al hope.

Why Indeed?

2005-09-17T12:09:00.000-07:00

Why is the world round? Why did the chicken cross the road? Why is Daffy on the show? Why did Fred marry Wilma? Why are we on this earth? Why, why, why?The question is ‘why?’ Why do people always ask, why? Why do they always want a Reason? Is it necessary to always consult Her (Reason)? And why does Miss-goody-two-shoes Conscience always back Her up? Can’t we just believe something without asking why? It was so easy when we were children, we believe in ghost and didn’t ask why, we believed in Angels and didn’t ask why.

Only this evening, just after the sun set, I witnessed the bright star of Earendil (actually planet Venus), most beloved of the elves, in its high tide. So bright it was that my figure cast a dim shadow on the ground (Maybe that was because of the bulbs around me, but that is beside the point). I was remarking to some of my friends, that such moments are one of those which people remark ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever’ with dreamy eyes. And without so much as noticing the bright star beckoning him to her beauty, he asked of me, “WHY SO?”

Surprised I was not, for human folly is not new to me. But I didn't give him an answer, for some things are better to be left unsaid. How can I explain why the Star of Earendil is so bright and beautiful? How can I explain him Why Fred married Wilma? There are some things which are to be taken for granted and burden not the fragile Reason. She is already too tired of herself. Life is too short to indulge in the whims and caprices of Curiosity.

Morning without Sunrise?

2005-09-15T12:26:00.000-07:00

So many things I pondered upon, yet I come no nearer the truth. Is a morning complete without a sunrise? Is an evening beautiful without a sunset? Is the night beautiful without a twinkling star?

I say no, for it is the sunrise that makes the morning, it is the sunset that completes the evening, it is the stars that give serenity to the night. Without them the rest are just void.

What is a man without a virtue, what is a person without an aim? A void. It is rightly said, “An idle mind is Devil’s workshop”, for what is mind without a question? A void.

Verily, it is the virtue that purifies the man. It is the aim that leads the person; it is the question that awakes the mind.

What is life without a quest? What is love without a feeling? What is kindness without giving? What is forgiveness without accepting? A void.

It is the quest that makes life. It is the feeling that conquers love. It is giving that shows kindness. It is the acceptance that renders forgiveness.

And I came no nearer the truth.

Tyranny

2005-09-09T12:38:00.000-07:00

I hated it when there is a war inside me. I hate it most when Conscience, with her usual poised calm, turns her harsh gaze at Passion in a disapproving fashion, speaking clearly with her eyes that if she befreind the vile man called Lust she would thrust her down to unsounded depths of agony.
Reason, with her usual composed self, sided with Conscience, and told Passion, in a warm and less harsh tone, that Lust with his cousin, Desire, are to be looked upon only from a safe distance, for they are subtle and quick to degrade others.
It is a good thing that concience is so pure and reason so right. Without them I would not be where I am right now and my passion would have run wild away with lust and desire.

Till you are here resting with me

2005-09-08T11:13:00.000-07:00

By a slight glance at the entries below, one would almost be forced to believe that the person he is dealing with has a heart of stone and a passion of a dead tree; and I am sure that they might be almost right. Why, the very important subject of love is not even grazed or touched upon in any of the 7 entries below. Such heartlessness, such cruelty, such inhuman behavior.

But alas! that is not so, how much I try to be or try not to be inhuman, I cannot escape from the very clutches of the most powerful force in the universe; love. No matter how far I run from it, it continues to haunt me day and night.

How lucky it is to be a human and be able to experience love. Life is beautiful, as I always maintain and the reason behind it is love. The kind and patient smile of a mother to her child; The heartburns of a boy, when he missed his beloved; The friend who would gave up his live for the sake of friendship. That is love.

The above passage reveals the very ignorance of me in this matter. I know so little yet feel a lot. How strange it is. I am what I am, I do what I want, but I can't breath till you are resting here with me.

Hospital Delirium

2005-08-15T09:28:00.000-07:00

Good Great God! How terrible were the days in hospital. There were whole days in which I wanted to die instead of bearing the infernal pains. Whenever the doctor is there, every thing is fine, the worst is during the night, when all souls slumbers, except the one who is in pain. I writhed and coil between the sheets hoping the pains will go away if I keep doing that. How wrong I was! The pain never goes away. It is etched deep within me. Even as I sit here now, writing this, some vague presence of it remains, haunting me. I don't know if I could be wholly cured out of this. The medicaton is still going on but will it help? Only time will tell. And as such, let us have patience.

Interest Lost?

2005-07-08T06:40:00.001-07:00

Long has been the time since I wrote something in my blog page. And that is not because, though one may be misled to believe, I have lost interest in blogging. Becasue of the highly time demanding internship we had, writing blogs almost become impossible. But now since I am back in hostel, expect this page to be updated quite frequently. Till then, contant vigilance. Oh! and by the way you can check another of my blogpage at
http://360.yahoo.com/njohneyadamson.

The END is near!

2005-04-10T00:47:00.000-07:00

March died a slow death, and April sprang forth with all its naivete and unlike March, without a trace of cunning wile. But here I am down with life almost as if it has wasted unto the fragments of half remembered dreams. At such times, the heart desires to break the laws and forget the principles. But conscience, turned tyrant, held Passion by the throat, told her tauntingly, she had yet but dipped her dainty foot in the slough, and swore that with that arm of iron he
would thrust her down to unsounded depths of agony. He reasoned : laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. And as such, I acceptted my conscience and agreed to continue with this ever going life.

Good times

2005-02-21T14:14:00.000-08:00

The swan-song of the last winter chill swept over barren wild moors of Gwalior, leaving a dry and seasoned IIITM. In the midst of it, an unsignificant being, known as Johney among his friends, is relishing every bit of melancholy and beauty of the dying winter. Only a few days back, he were at an entirely different locale, Delhi. The same cold zephyr wraped the entire belt with its cold icy fingers, which have become brittle due to the long exposure to its cold self. And there, he wraped himself up as snug as he could and experienced the wild drives in the frenzy traffic of frenetic delhi. And now, he is sitting in his room in the ever vain Gwalior, reminiscing the good times he had over the past few weeks. Life must be truly beautiful for such simple persons, who took pleasures out of such simple things.

Oh! Time, Please wait for me

2005-02-11T05:43:00.000-08:00

The cold and windy january blew itself out in a wild frenzy, leaving behind only a pale imprint on our lives. The clear and beautiful february came bringing with herself all the cheerfulness she could muster from the chillsome place she calls home.

The minor exams passes by without even bothering to say a 'Hi' or 'Hello'. Still life goes on as if it is only yesterday that the long holidays started. Classes are a far off dreams, which comes as nightmares in an increasingly alarming frequency.

The unremitting lectures of the visiting professors have turn out to be a plethora of feckless tutelage. Often I wonder whether if life could get any more interesting than this.

Big test == Exam

2005-02-07T02:19:00.000-08:00

First of all, I would like to impress upon all that Exam == a big test. If Exam is only testing, then why not call it a bigtest?? That should have been a proper word and it would have make things less confusing.
I think I should bang myself first before writing such useless things. Well, off for some more banging! ;-)

Late for class

2005-02-05T22:15:00.000-08:00

I am here, wasting my time, instead of having my life bored out of me listening to the lectures of the teacher, writing a blog. In truth, I only wanted to make a new account so that I can comment on a blog that one of my friend wrote.
Well, what I am waiting for? Off with the comment........