Thursday, January 13, 2005

Staring At The Stars

3 days and no food.

I looked at my kids again. Innocence stared back at me. God they were so young! They deserved a chance, I know they did. The guilt was catching up with me, I know I was trying as hard as I possibly could but it just wasn’t working out like I wanted it to.

Summer was always the worst. The heat, the dust... the afternoon sun would hang threateningly over the dry grass. This was when I would feel the loneliest. I trudged along thinking of life and more importantly survival. It had always been a fight for me, making ends meet. But I’d always managed to pull something off, this time though things were looking bleak.

I thought of how unfair nature can be, abandoning a single mother with 2 completely helpless children. I knew I was adept in my own right but I couldn’t help thinking that there was an inevitable gender bias in nature itself. I kept searching for a reason, but then decided that the matter probably was under the purview of what I thought was a higher power. More pressing matters were at hand anyway.

It had been two years now, two years during which it had been just me the kids. It had been a hard time, very trying actually, but the kids were learning... and in a couple of years I thought, in a couple of years they might even stand a chance if they had to fend for themselves. I knew I wouldn’t last for much longer than that. But that was ok... nature worked like that and I respected the system. There seemed to be some underlying order to the whole world. Everybody I saw was so intricately connected. It just couldn’t have been a coincidence. The level of understanding between the components of the system was just too great. It was almost as if the entire system would fall apart if you pulled out a single block from it. I would think of this and the possibility of even bigger things when I would lie down at night staring up at the stars. There had to be a much bigger world out there. And I taught my children to respect that. That’s the way it should be.

Just then a rustling caught my attention. In the distance I saw something that might... just might be able to provide me and the kids with our next meal. I turned, alert as ever. The hunger, the heat, the despair all forgotten. This happened sometimes, it was almost as if I would enter another plane of thought. Singular and focused. At that moment I knew it was now or never, I lunged forward and sprinted... just sprinted. Eyes locked, mind blank, legs spinning on the edge of losing control. Closer, closer, closer...

And then my claws hit flesh... the kill was made. Breathing hard, I sat over my meal for a while. My mother had always taught me to let myself cool off before moving. And I’d teach my kids the same thing. I know they have a chance. I know they do...

The savannah is after all a magical place.

Monday, January 10, 2005

My name is... (all over again)

This post was originally called "My name is..." on my other blog, for the record it was posted on Jan 4th, much before 'Madam A' showed up. This happened because I'd been asked by friends what SNT meant. I searched thru' and thru' for a reference to this 'druggie' thing. I couldn't. It must be this thing that happened to me after I hit puberty, when I realized that growing up to act the way adults do, is quite cool. Of course, arunamatata seems to think there's a drug-related connection to it. My dear readers, you decide.
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It's Saturday night, and there's nothing left to do but plop yourself in front of the tv, remote in one hand, crossie in the other. You're too lazy to cook, so you order cheap takeout food and wait for it to come. The wallet's comfortably set a few metres from the door so you don't have to go looking around when dinner arrives.

It's all boring, but that's alright. These 'boring' periods are when most of your thinking gets done. The tv rambles on, and 2 hours of canned laughter still can't bring about the faintest giggle from you. The crossie's got three clues left, damned if you can get them.

Across 8: Sounds like comfortable clothes for the computer, maybe? (8)

You catch yourself staring into nothingness for a few minutes longer than necessary. A fleeting desire for productive work passes over you, but that's lost in the commercial blaring out into space, urging you to buy the latest stomach crunch apparatus, mingled with black and white dramatizations of why all previous apparatus were worthless. Seriously, don't they get the fact that their target audience is a bunch of fat morons?

Down 11: Old beer's stinky vapour? (10)

The food's all gone, and you scrape away the little disgusting cold cheese that's stuck to the cardboard; after staring at it for a minute it disappears into your mouth. No regrets. Channelsurf for 30 seconds before you realize that it's all bullshit, so you might as well watch the regional softporn for a while. The nausea takes over, and it's got more to do with the excess cellulite on screen than the odour that's coming out of your armpits. Switch back to [insertrandomchannelname] and watch [insertinanetopic] being discussed on [inserttalkshowname], like the world would change because of it.

Your mind wanders, and you think of the chick you bumped into that afternoon. It sure would have been nice if you had gotten her cell number because then you'd have asked her out to coffee and then maybe dinner and then long chats on the phone and drives through open highways, her hair being thrown every which way by the breeze and then you'd get married after dating for six months and maybe a couple of kids and that beachhouse you always dreamt of and by then you'd be a successful novelist/businessman/whatever and you'd buy a spanking new car and you'd still be madly in love and...

Across 14: This sport angered the ant (7)

Yawn. Your hand reaches out to scratch your knee, and you realize that your whole left foot's gone numb. The irony of the situation is amusing, now that you'll have to hop about for a while just to get the pinsandneedles out. A sleeping foot, hilarious. Might as well go and blog for a while, then crash into the usual 12 hour slumber routine. After all, tonight was named after you, wasn't it?

PS: Software, Flatulence, Cricket.
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PS- Kini dude, give me a high-5. Konak pura apeth re tu hanga? Makk kai problem na, I'm thoroughly enjoying this. Yet, do I still have to suffer thru' bad bandwidth and slow pageloading to endure such pitiful attacks? Gatti ashilel janank apay re, I'm game for a challenge! 'High'-5, get it?

[And in the embrace of a really bad joke, Pi sits back and waits...]

Thursday, January 06, 2005

The Disembodied Observer

Light clicking noises emanated from a corner of this universe. Continuous sometimes, sometimes abrupt. Something like what happens when we write with a ball point pen when the ink in it has almost gone dry. Worlds were being born, very hazy worlds, the kind that have no detail, just a broad shape and in a wisp of silvery white smoke, those worlds too would disappear. They would merge with different creations and form an alternate plane of reality.

The void in this plane wasn't unlike the vacuum in space, cold, dark and most importantly blank. It would just wait... Then the void would quietly consume the breathing entities in that reality no objections, no questions. But at the same time a disembodied observer would watch as all these events unfolded. Again not objecting, not questioning. Slowly though the observer began to wonder, whether creation was ever possible in this hazy plane. The more he strained his eyes for some sort of order in the reality, some sort of story, the more the void seemed to take over.

The observer paused... The straining stopped. The disdain for the disorder was withdrawn. As he relaxed, slowly, consciously, the haze began to lift. Things began to come to him. Not drawn by a pull, but just passing him by almost as if suddenly they'd given him the permission to live in their world.

The observer walked in this world, thrilled to be in it. He saw the lives of people being lived. He saw some people he knew, many he didn't. Love was something he could understand here, on his own terms. He saw another earth, but this time it wasn't the jaded perspective he otherwise had. He could see the smallest atom, to the largest galaxy all in one blink. The scale, the system, the sheer magnificence on this reality was something that overwhelmed him. He saw the earth, a glimmering blue sphere, glimmering even when it had turned away from the sun. The observer saw men creating some of the sparks, but this wasn't as if they were separate entities. Here in this reality, they were part of life itself and the glimmer was no different from the red glow of the molten rock that would flow underneath the blue shimmering. They were not just people, water, dust and stars. They were life itself.

Nature was almost...Nay truly surreal on this reality. He would walk and he would smile. Thankful to be there.

And when he'd seen enough, the observer would lay back and let the silver wisps appear again. Letting this reality dissolve into itself. Leaving nothing but the clicking noises, a laptop and a very happy boy of nineteen.

Deja Vu?



I just love MS bashing tales.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

I can try, can't I?

I can and will speak and write with just one sound per word. It may soon sound bad, but just the fact that it can be done at all is good. Like plain math, you are meant to get the whole thing with few bits. Of course, not a lot can be said to you this way. Let's just say that I want for this to be new: free speech, that's not so free. Do you get what I say? It gets hard, too fast for me. But it's still my fight with those who use big words that no one gets. This is cool. More than the big words. Quite neat. Yet, all is passed on to the ear. Could you do it too? Please tell me more, on this blog. I would love to hear of your try. Just be sure not to cheat, else the game will die out. Or you could just pass by, like you did not see this post at all. Don't be mean.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

Squirrels

ok me back this time with a little bit of catharsis..new flavour of the moment and all.

setting: pi sitting in room reading a stephen king novel. me generally fooling around with seniors laptop as my comp remains buried in another senior's room.

strange things happen sometimes (fragment consider revising...thats usually what i see whenever i run grammar checks on my articles) guess thats what makes this stuff so damn disjointed to read. but then again i digress. back to the strange things that happen sometimes. today something very very very grotesque took place (notice the use of very simple english in this post...this is ala salinger). here we are all in the room grabbing some desperately needed sleep and this really disturbing odour slowly builds up in the room...not like it hadnt been there earlier, its just that once someone in the room noticed it all of us couldnt help but smell the same shit.*interesting simile*

anyway the damn time passes, sleep takes over lazy evenings pass by blah blah blah...me and pi go out to the pattisserie (we really like saying that by the way) *pasta pastry and pattisserie all come out from the same word - pi* and when we come back we notice that the unearthly odour has only gotten worse... this i think happened cuz we had gotten a whiff of fresh air. so this is the conversation that ensues...

Pi: Dude...i gotta find out what that smell is about.
Me: ok man..hang on...(yelling)...dude hemanth has a rat or something died in your bag.
(at this point hemanth my dear room mate dutifuly walks in lifts the flap of his bag, takes a cursory glance around.)
Hemanth: No man.
(thats the thing about living in this hostel...it makes you believe anything..even random accusations about dead animal carcasses in travel bags.)
Me:*chuckle* you actually thought i was serious?
*shrug from hemanth*
Me: (damn.. humorous moment ruined and all that)
Pi: OH FUCK...OH FUCK...OH FUUUUUUUCK! dude there is a fuckin animal trapped in your desk!!!!!
Me:wtf?
Pi:look under the table dude...
(now i hang from my bed and get a look under the table and recoil in digust...cuz i see a furry tail happily dangling away....la la la la laaa..and all that!)
Me: *repeat pi's loud sentence with higher decibel levels*
Pi:get your friends man...maybe they want to watch.
Me:iiiii don't think so
Pi: we need to wiggle it out.
the thought of wiggling brings back images of the bee gees...man those were weird people, even with a squirrel lodged in hemanth's desk...newspaper collected, wiggling done, smashed* quirrel picked up and dropped behind mandak.(* no references to enthanol.//sad pun) meal on verge of regurgitation...

//catharsis done.

Monday, January 03, 2005

Until Tomorrow - Part1

[I'm back. Won't put any more personal blogs, just the literary ramblings. Inspiration from the 'tada!' style of conventional suspense thrillers. This is part 1 of a story in progress of being written. Please comment. Criticism welcome. Thanks Kini for proof-reading]

I woke to find myself lying face up, chained to a rough, stone floor. My arms were cut, and blood flowed freely down. I looked up, and the stars mocked in stark silence. A pity, that silence said, but we can't help you. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. Then, a faint lumniscence teased my periphery. I tried to turn, but the spikes dug into my flesh and held my head solid. Whoever had done this definitely didn't want me to look around too much. The light danced in teasing range, but soon disappeared. I asked myself the obvious question- "What the?" No answers came, none were expected. The pain was quite unbearable now; I could feel the pain in the centre of my skull. My bare feet were aching on the cold floor, and realization dawned that I was quite naked. This was bad, because the rain that started to fall was icy cold, and it felt like a shower of needles on my bare chest. I tried screaming in agony, but only a whisper escaped my throat.

And then a voice behind me spoke, "Will the promise be upheld?" What promise? Had I damned my soul to purgatory that I may live some worldly dream? Maybe it was the fury of God himself, condemning me to an eternity of misery for sins committed. Perhaps it was a dream, and soon I would find myself awake in bed, sweating and trembling, safe to be out of the clutches of yet another nightmare. Again the voice asked, "Will the promise be upheld?". My silence must have infuriated the tormentor, because the next thing I knew, a sharp pain passed through my body, numbing the mind in a flash of white light and followed by a searing pain that rippled through and through, unwilling and unforgiving. I passed out, and when I opened my eyes again, the rainfall had ceased and the stars had shifted position. Somewhere in the distant darkness I could sense the presence of other beings, the animal growls that accompanied them gave me the goosebumps.

Ok, so it's not a dream.

I screamed out (and the voices came), "Yes, yes! I will uphold the promise! Oh, in the name of all that is good, release me from this horror!" Of course, at this point I couldn't remember what promise it was, but I was willing to say anything to save me from this beastly impending death. It worked; the growling subsided, and soon I felt the solitude return. But the chains still bound me, the pain still blinded my senses. It was only after a long time (how long, I wasn’t sure) that the tears stopped rolling down my cheeks. But the agony of being in my pitiable condition (as the stars had so rightly justified) still had me confused, in a sad-angry-hurt kind of way. It was reality, no doubt, even if it was a reality not seen by (or heard of) by me. And what could I do?

Through the matted blood and hair that covered my eyes, I glanced down at myself. There were several wounds, like those inflicted by the lashings of a whip the size of a redwood. Some seemed newer than the others, it was almost as if they had been continuously administered on my body for long periods of time. I managed to bend my neck downwards, enough to stare at my chest, and the moonlight showed an inverted pentacle etched into my flesh, covering the entire torso and part of my shoulders. All through this, one question raced through my mind, again and again.

Why couldn’t I remember how I got here?

To be continued…
 

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