Second Life

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

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

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

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

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....

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

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

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

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

...

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?

"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

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 I: The rain never came
Part II: Of squalls and thunderstorms 

part II Of Squalls and thunderstorms

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

Part III: The morning after

Part I The rain never came

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.

Part II: Of squalls and thunderstorms

Part III: The morning after

A turning in life

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

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)