New Year's Beginning

New Year's Beginning

Today's new year's night was completely and totally different from what it used to be every year. It was completely completely new and a completely new experience for me. Experience in something i always wanted to do.

Samwise Gamgee- " What were you doing anyway?"

Gollum - "Ssssneeeeaaking.."

Yes, that's what i did today! It was an urge to. An urge to sneak out at night, silently,like theives in the night, like batman silently, on rooftops and stuff, with silhouettes of our bodies and big shadows falling on walls, with us being on tip toes.

It was a cold night, which i really had an urge to sneak into. It was to be the perfect new year's night if we sneaked. I waited patiently until my friend's parents went to sleep, and once they did, there started our 'adventure' . We were as silent and agile as cats with an instinct for danger. And we silently closed the door of the bed room, to enter into the dark hall. The door closed with a slight thud, and we proceeded to the main door. It had to be worked on. It produced enough sound to make me and my friend tense and turned our spines cold. But, we sneaked out of the house. 

We drove in the cold night, with the breeze bashing against our faces. We went for kilometers in the dark for ice cream! 

I ate Willy Wonka, the best chocolate delight ever!! Somewhere close to the ice cream shop, there was a celar. It looked a gangster place, filled with cars with their back doors open and filled with people, alcohol, marijuana and tobacco. This was a really different sight and experience, watching people get high in basements and 'enjoying' life, getting high on new year's.The tension was all gone, we enjoyed the night rather than feeling tensed about going back home.

The roads were quite filled, atleast more than what one'd expect at 2 a.m. It was something like "Papertowns", except 

1) I was not with a girl

2 I was not taking revenge or apologising.

The roads were sometimes empty yet populated with some unseen presence of unseen people. Peple on bikes and on foot, kept greeting "happy new year" to everyone they saw on the road. They shouted out to them and always got back a response. And when we stopped, the roads were normal. Somewhat like desolate roads you'd see in movies. Midnight roads are the empires of dogs. Literally. 

After journeying through new and beautiful roads, we reached back home. We again became thieves in the night! We silently sneaked back in, without anyone noticing, nor anyone knowing.

This was the best new year night i've ever had, maybe soon, i'd try something new and something i always wanted to try! 

Thank you!

Thank you!

With just two days left for a new year, and a chance to renew life and begin afresh, fresh with resolutions and determinations and ambitions, relations and acquaintances, I express my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who is present in my life! Yes there are obnoxious people and people I really don't like, but still, I thank you too for filling up some place in my life! And I also apologise to anyone with whom I was rude, harsh or not up to their expectations. And I promise to be a better person than what I am in this very moment, and probably, better in every way.

I hope I really stick to my premature resolution, and I hope all of you, my readers, have a good resolution or plan to make yourself better or  maintain it as it is! 

I thank everyone and everything that helped me survive and have a good 2013!

Symbolisms

Symbolisms

He stood there,

On the beach with his feet bare, and

As he did upon the bay, stare,

He saw symbolisms glare.

He lay down by the door,

With his boredom growing evermore, and

As he heard the wind roar,

He heard lessons telling him to soar.

He sat there on his terrace,

Indulging in an empty trance, and

As he thought of clouds prance,

He saw armies of clouds march towards a depression

He basked under the sun,

Pondering over a humourous pun, and

There he saw him run,

For, dusk it was, time of the setting sun.

These brought him immense joy,

A sense of self  sufficiency and serenity,

As a kid playing with a new toy.

He could not say exactly why.

On the beach he saw, waves rise and crash; rise from deep, calm, serene water and crash on violent waters close to the shore. Every rising tide, every rising wave, rises from a point of nothingness, from apoint of peace, calm and depth, but it eventually crashes, it is the life cycle of this wave. Every rising wave, every form of progress, will fall and falter, but another one will rise and this will go on and on. This is nothing to be sad about, its just a path to perfection.

He lay down by the door and heard the wind roar. Wind, the force with no physical form, yet has an unseen presence, whose strength still succeeds in delivering his message. He heard the wind deliver his message, through the thin crevaces of the door, delivering its strength and trying and trying to push that door. He said to him, "Keep pushing and don't stop, keep trying and you will reach the top!" These war cries, he heard, and there he saw the symbolism of wind crashing against the door.

He saw the clouds in an empty trance, a state of nothingness and sadness, he saw them move to a point of depression, march slowly, bearing their own weight with themselves, every move aided by its allies. The armies of clouds told him to move, however hard it may be, move and move towards anyone in depression, fill the depression, bring them back to normal. To move however heavy he may feel, whatever pulls him back and holds him back, move and keep moving!

He saw the sun high in the sky and slowly and yet quickly ran to dive deep into the horizon. He saw the hastiness and he though to himself, "its not like every sunrise ends with a beautiful sunset, but every sunset surely starts with a beautiful sunrise."

These few symbolisms he saw in the larger sections of nature. But tinier sections, birds, bees, herbs and shrubs, and all the other small things that give beauty and definition to this world, to our world,possess thousand other symbolisms and messages eager to be seen and heard. The good thing is, they're all open to perception and are open to everyone, for who knows who would come forth with wonders. 

Change

Change

Gandalf once answered "No, I can't promise you'll be back, and even if you do, you won't be the same." He was right! 

After sitting in solitude and relating Tolkien's "hobbit" to my own life, I interpreted what that line meant.

It's everyone's life. Their final challenge or big challenge in that point, is Smaug. Their life is the journey the company was on.

I was on a journey, to find myself, get back my courage,kill peer pressure, and learn ways to tackle this world! The journey was not easy, of course. Fear, Courage, Friendship, Love, Determination, Support, Hope, Ego, Narcissism, Skill, I-dont-care type of Mentality, Joy and Sadness were my 13 dwarf companions. And I achieved it! I stole the arkenstone and helped defeat smaug, and today I have gained it, a completely new attitude! A completely new me!

Yes, this journey has changed everything about me. It may have made me into a better person, but sometimes I look at myself and contemplate if this is who I was supposed to become. If this is what should define me and the old definition be completely scrapped. It is a question really tough to answer, for no person can live in static, everyone is dynamic, everything about them is dynamic and as one is dynamic, the whole world shifts to dynamic. 

Some things change for the better, some for the worse, either way, change is inevitable, change is necessary. For, a stagnant pool of water is what becomes a dead marsh.

Carnival- The Hobbit like

Carnival- The Hobbit like

There was a carnival at school yesterday! It was very lively, against all my expectations! 

The carnival was very very lively and energetic, with people's buzz everywhere, beautifully decorated Christmas trees and a vast hockey field filled with stalls of food and games. There was loud blaring music which is the characteristic of carnival, electronic music, live music, traditional and what not! There was perpetual sound and music and not a single moment went drab in it. There were banners everywhere possible and they too had a carnival effect, vintage type banners. Thick cardboard or thermocol, with light bulbs all around it had "HPS carnival" all around it! 

There was crowd and cheer everywhere. Bored, yet ever smiling mickey mouses (or is it mice) and super tall people walking on sticks and Santa Claus hats everywhere! Christmas stars and stalls selling wobbly cotton candy on thin sticks. I enjoyed every bit of it as I tore through the cotton candy which shrunk as it entered my mouth, and as I was savouring this pink delight, I thought to myself "She was right, this place is actually very nice and fun."

How I see December

How I see December

The whole wide world, the blue green ball with all its micro organisms, is filled with perceptions. Perceptions ranging from weird to sensible, sad to happy and from synclines to anticlines.

And I have my own one. My own perception of the month tailing at the end of every year, the month of the beginning and end of cold weather and beautiful dawns, the month of gathering memories and looking forward for new ones, the month of december!

This is how I look at it: initially, its just another month, containing examinations and stuff. But as the month gets older, I see a change in the month, the days are better, they are better in every way, describable and otherwise. They just automatically get good. As if everyday is in your favour. And as the end approaches new memories add to the list. Some nostalgia accompanies only to show new paths and the winds of love blow forever, the gusts of friendship blow and retain there forever! 

I see december as a month of novelty where I always get to see or do something novel. Or at least something worth noting. Today, I patted and caressed a stray puppy on the road. It was cute and it was happy and serene, and played with me for a notable distance. Then the school carnival, new and nice.it obviously feels good to have cotton candy after four years! Then I had these growing relations and friendships which don't seem to nor which I hope for, ending! I'm slowly gaining my lost skills, slow, but gaining. And I'm grateful!

December, oh month of everlasting novelty and thrill, I like you

A Playful Companion at Dusk

A Playful Companion at Dusk

There on the horizon, the saffron coloured flame began to set, continuing its daily routine, and there I was trying to perfect exponential and logarithmic functions, integrals and differentials and stuff, looking at the sun dive into the ground in slow motion. 

Then came one of my friends and with him I saw this tiny creature, as tiny as my palm, fragile and light. It was snow white with patches of light green pastures expanding in random ways. It was the tiniest puppy I had ever seen, it was a stray, but it was beautiful!

There I saw my companion, jumping around with a hunting instinct, pouncing at air and emptiness, nibling at my shirt and jeans, fingers and toes. He left him with me and it was fun to have the company of this puppy, fur of which was glib and warm, who was as light as a feather, as tiny as a brick, bones of which were cartilage and the barks of which were like the cries of a baby or the pleasant music from the shrieks of puppies, the sound is incomparable. 

And there we both were, the pup and myself. It joined me in solving math and I occasionally had to stop it from chewing my book with its toothpick like teeth, blunt yet sharp. 

As the sun shone its last few rays, we stared at him, me holding the puppy in a cradled fashion and once the sun set and was no longer visible, the wild instinct returned. After a while, it went back to my friend.

Having a puppy by your side while solving pi and math is a different feeling altogether. 

Under the Moonlight

Under the Moonlight

As the days get less shy of Christmas, songs keep playing late till night, songs of high spirit and rejuvenating natures, of a variety of languages, accompanied by the chill of winter, starry skies and the beautifully waning fire moon, red in colour.

These songs sound familiar, very familiar and indeed remind me or rather automatically bring out the dance steps I learnt to associate with these songs. And its,an amazing feeling to dance to the same songs you did, at about the same time, last year. I automatically started swinging to these notes of modern music. 

It felt good to just be there, alone , offered with solitude, listening to the songs late at night, when nothing sounds but owls and trains; moving to steps with the moonlight lighting up my spirits and revealing me to whoever cared to see, and then I looked at the same stars which I saw last year and everyday hence and they looked different from what they usually are and then I felt the cold breeze brush past me  and I thought, "Maybe, the thrill of a new year and the wanting and excitement for a new year has finally hit me, and maybe this is what it feels like." 

Maybe it hits me every year, but I am sure I don't remember it by the end of the year. After all, it's a feeling that dies with the end of 12 o'clock, december 31 and maybe just prolongs to january 1st. 

Either way, dancing with the moon acting as limelight, and music playing louder than ever, with the minty breath of trees brush past me and stars as my audience seated in the balcony, was a noteworthy moment!

An 8 o'clock Walk

An 8 o'clock Walk

After hours of law and chemistry, passages and d and f block elements, a serene walk was a darting balm!! 

A walk at 8 amongst the chill of frost, looking at the christmas cross, and embracing all the warmth in the cold breezy night was the best feeling in a day that went pretty bad!

As I walked down that familiar road, the moon and a single star, probably a planet, Jupiter or something, were the only things that were alight in the night sky and that caught my attention, got me thinking maybe, there could be a number of stars or one alone, but the moon is what that shines brightest. 

And as I continued homeward, walking through stenches of toxic rivers, peppy smells of tobacco smoke, steamy aromas of roadside tea, sea-side fragnances of fish-sellers and the sweet smell of spice-vendors and the normal things associated with this road, I noticed a billion more stars. Slowly exposing themselves explicitly. There I spotted a random star and there the three star trio of Orion. And slowly, there came to be starlight along with moonlight, silenced by the artificial lights of mankind and his dark desires.

And yet, the moon seemed to be shouting through all this artificiality, shouting to reach my eyes through the lattice of trees, now made into silhouettes by moonlight and there and there came tiny dots of starlight! 

What made the moon more beautiful were these tiny dotty stars, that all pointed towards this one big bright circle. And there on the moon was a kid, probably ten years old, sitting with his back against the moon's perimeter, looking at me, and chuckling to himself. Maybe it was blush induced chuckle for me flattering the moon, or maybe it was because of my foolishness to even comment on the moon or comment on her ornamental pieces of twinkling beauty..

Either way, the late night walk, amidst cold wind and warmth of steaming tea and cigarette smoke, moonlight and starlight, served me as a panacea.

Rice grain bags

Rice grain bags

Marvellous, these rice grains are, tiny yet so strong, isolated yet united... Unseen awesomeness and time passing activities I associate with these  Bags of husky, dusty, ever fresh rice grains.

A new rice grain bag is the best thing. Ever tried putting your hand in and playing around with the grains? Its one of the best feeling ever!! Slowly sinking your hand deep in by trying to get through the strong barricade of infinite grains? And trying to get your hand back against all suction? Trying t rub of the grains stuck on your hand? Trying to punch the grains and leave an impression? Feeling the sharply blunt grains make impressions on your hand? And then feeling the powdery rice dust on your hand? No? Well. Try it, it is surely an awesome thing!!

The astonishing thing about these grains of unity is their ability to be moulded and then return to, rather bounce back to their original state. Bounce back to the inflation caused by these tiny companions of air present in the diminutive spaces between the grains.

Its as if they tell us to bounce back once something hits you and keep taking hits until the hit is tired or hitting you. Then, you'll be invincible, invincible as you already are, just remind yourself you are. 

A drawing down of blinds

A drawing down of blinds

As another year, comes to an end right at its beginning, another notable play comes to its end and is at its drawing of blinds. 

I say notable, because this year, which seemed to have passed in such less time, has given me so much. This year, this play, i really can't classify it into a genre. I can't say it was a comedy, a tragedy, a fiction or something. Oh, but I can say. It was one with adventure. A really diverse adventure.

When I look back and think of this play, I recollect victory, joy, novelty, excitement and sorrow. Well, maybe, these are the contents of every play, but victory is a genre I had not seen in years. It felt good.

Right from turning 16 to becoming an amateur photographer, to a regular blogger and a decent poet, an orator and a quizzer, and becoming the quiz captain, through valleys and over mountains, to places unseen before and things unexperienced before, this year has shown me all of it.

Winning k-circle, getting noticed, winning landmark and eagles' fest, winning city finals it all tasted of victory.

Losing people and gaining new ones, leaving old ones and gaining new ones, improved relations and decreased fights have all been a part. Every play gives us something new, and thus, this play called 'Year 2013' has moulded me into this new person who would not be recognised by his former self. 

And all the other incidents, big and small, filled light and made this play bright, after all, the minute details make the master piece.

And as this play slowly closes behind the drawing blinds with every new day, all I have for it is gratitude to have shown me such a different, novel, memory-filled play which I will remember for many years to come, and maybe then, I'll watch this play again and applaud it for it would still be a marvellous one 

Insane, the new organic compound

Insane, the new organic compound

Well, this is a compound I found and still find in many people and find in new people I meet. Well, it plays such a role in these people that it determines how other people look at them. Such a queer property this compound has it affects other people rather than yourself.  

After careful speculation, I observed that it induces a certain reaction in the brain which sparks off a behavior, one like crazy and a bit psychotic. It automatically makes the other person looking at you, make an impression, whether the other person is a stranger or a close person. 

I have identified into to be a compound called 'Insane'. An absence of a microscope barred my progress in determining the exact number of atoms and the precise composition, but it is a perfect report that Insane is an alkane with many many carbon chains. 

What it precisely does is, it attacks the brain and affects certain parts which determine the legitimacy of actions and words. But still sometimes, this compound makes the person give out amazing, wonderful and marvellous ideas and points, methods and theories. 

This compound is a new breakthrough, but it definitely needs a lot more research to determine its exact properties and the exact way in which it affects the human brain and brains of other people present in the vicinity. 

It could be something that  would affect social relations in a drastic way.

Further research can be conducted but greater theories like the presence of multiverse are more mind wobbling questions. But should they find another alien race, I am sure that Insane will play a key role in maintaining relations and hence, I believe that there must be as extensive research as possible on this organic compound.

A Journey To Forget

A Journey To Forget

Well maybe it is possible to forget these unforgettable memories. I have set out on a journey, while staying at one place, to forget the unforgettable time. 

To paraphrase Thranduil- "Where does my journey end? I seek that which would bestow upon me the power to forget.... A quest to reclaim myself and to slay a memory" 

Yes well, this is a difficult task. Maybe as difficult as Bruce Wayne forgetting he was batman or Watson forgetting Sherlock or Anakin Skywalker forgetting princess amidala. But it surely is up for a worthwhile shot. 

I won't forget what this time taught me, nor will I forget what I learnt. I will be forever grateful but never again, will I be affected by this dragon.

Maybe a month down the line, my journey will end and I will have turned over a new leaf, a new page. I have already started and will not let storm giants or mountain trolls stop me. Orcs won't touch Me nor will rings and creatures of old beguile me and tempt me. 

I WILL TURN OVER A NEW PAGE! An old me in a new chapter which will have no character called "the time you once longed for". 

A new character is up for the filling.

This beach I once went to

This beach I once went to....

A tiny road extended till where it met the green body.
A tiny strip of sand stretched lengthwise to an extent unmeasurable. Far towards both sides of myself, I saw 50 metres of sand stretch to the horizon and disappear into the sky. 
Rainy stormy weather accompanied this vast, extraneous bay filled with great, green water of unknown depth. 
Green waves seemed to be producing prolonged beats of roars and crashes of the sea against the soft yet firm sand I had under my bare feet. The sand was cold and wet.
My own footsteps seemed like they were following me. Waves flowed from under my feet and left a tickly sensation every single time they met my weary, young feet. 
A smell of sea and fish filled the air around me and a soda can accompanied the illusiory fish in my mouth. 
Tiny creatures which I had not seen before vanished into the sand as I went close. They made me question my senses filled with solitary joy. Astonishing creatures were these crabs. The firm sand seemed to be like water to them. Everywhere they sunk themselves and left no hole to trace. 
Far away now were my parents and I did not really care.
Fog and mist became a hazy veil to this vast green face that went on and on. Behind me, somewhere a calm river flowed into this sea. The junction was far away, yet was something I was ready to go to. 
Every wave seemed to be novel and exciting in its own way. Every wave brought about in me a fear of a tsunami, and yet gave a comfort and a sense of security with its volatile yet calm state. 
Sandcastles were tiny things in this desolate place, something greater was what this place made me crave for. 
Watching the sea reply to questions I wrote on its shore was mesmerising. The sea had its way of telling me stories, some by planting a story in the wind which I breathed, some fixed in the sand I walked on, some hidden in the shells the sand preserved and many in the sounds its waves produced. Green colour seemed polychromatic with different colours though all green. 
A childish act of immitsting movies and lack of novelty filled the verbs which could be used to describe my actions. 
I certainly wish I could go back and write about it in greater detail. Storing such a place in pictures surely won't speak of its true beauty, for pictures are mere imitations and immitations, well, not always do they convey the message of the original

nostalgiaic gratitude

Nostalgiaic gratitude

Throughout the first half year of my senior high, I was this insecure, depressed all the other traits one would not want to see in a young adult. I Was this dull depressed forever alone feeling guy who saw life in a melancholic way.

And then it so happened, one fine day, you came along. You came along as a warrior knight, to help me out and unintentionally got out the best in me. You changed my perception of life and made me a gazillion times as better a man than I once was. And I am extremely thankful for that. You were like Sherlock and I was like Watson. Your presence unintentionally made me a better person. Though this is was all in the past and now its only nostalgia, I am still in gratitude for changing me into what I am today. I may be repetitive, but I can't find another way to thank you, now that the bond we hold is weak. I can just say I am in nostslgiaic gratitude.

Hope for your return

A hope for your return

I've been waiting patiently or rather not that patiently for this time of the year, I was waiting for you, December. I was waiting for all those awesome days you gave me last year. 

It was very unfair, you leaving me. It was very unfair of you to push me into nostalgia. Make up for those acts by coming back now. 

I hope for your return, days of awesomeness, come back and make me who I once was.

Show me that every year, you'll be the best month with the best days. Plant in me a feeling of hope and yearning for You. 

Because if you're not the cure, I don't know what is..

The company of Thorin

The company of Thorin

13 survivors of the war for Moria,

A wizard, a grey cloaked companion,

A hobbit, a peaceful lad from the shire.

A journey they set out on,

For long lost erabor.

Elves and dragon gold,

Orcs and evils of old,

Mere half-human acquaintances met,

Some dark secrets revealed let,

One ring Bilbo shall get,

On and on gollum shall fret.

Wizards of varied colours,

Mountain trolls with elven treasures,

Homely house of Elrond,

The evil house of dol-guldur.

Spiders and webs,

Shall lead to seeking of courage, nothing less.

Dark woods and drowsy waters,

Getting out is all that matters.

Orc kings as bounty hunters,

Thorin's thoughts about Bilbo turn blunders,

Eagles shall aid,

Save them from an orc raid.

Storm giants will play,

With boulders in storm and rain,

Howling through the wind will wargs come,

From the scabbard elven swords will run.

Then the dragon will awaken, and

Turn laketown into a brick kiln,

Bard will rise to a thrush's warning,

He'll shoot an arrow to send Smaug to its departing.

The desolation will see a war,

Armies will gather,

The dwafs from the iron hills,

The elves of mirkwood,

The men of lake Town,

Orcs of Borg,

For the prize is high.

In the hands of the winner,

Erabor will lie.

Arkenstone taken by Thranduil

Bilbo shielded by mithril,

Thorin dies with a war wound,

Durin comes to rule.

f.o.r.g.e.a.r.t.h

F.o.r.g.e.a.r.t.h.

Forgetting something is the most toughest thing

Only the good ones sting, bad ones flow.

Railing against ones memory is railing against ones self.

Great perils surely lie in the adventure.

End result may still be hostile.

After all, going against yourself is clearly hostile.

Realisation dawns, that you must live on with those memories.

Time may or may not heal it. You have to remain shielded.

Happiness, these good memories boast of; sweet pain is what they carry along.

Shadow

Shadow

A cliche line it is

That a shadow follows wherever one is.

A Shadow, it looks it takes no bliss.

Thou great Shadow,

Hailing from the land of the helio,

Tailing behind every lad and lass,

Clinging on with a lasso.

Thou great Shadow ,

Dark mail to the arrows of light,

Invisible person of the night,

A form with no hype.

Thou great Shadow,

Stoic companion forever,

Cheerful never,

Depressed never.

Thou great Shadow,

Silent imitator of actions,

Calm form of mixed passions,

Similar to all of the nations.

Thou great Shadow,

Who comes in all forms,

Driven by the wind,

Over oceans and farms.

Thou great Shadow,

In all shapes and sizes,

High and low,

Pink and mellow.

Thou great Shadow,

Unique and shallow,

May you live on forever.

A Mediocre Plea

A Mediocre Plea

A diseased moon. A patchy moon.

Dark spots all around her face. Spotty clouds around her,

Diseased spots like, they appear.

Slowly they start covering her 

Pale white face.

Slowly do they hide her and take her into shadow.

Suddenly, her aura is the only thing giving light.

Her face does not exist.

What if it's not a disease?

What if it's an engagement?

King ilekosh, is that you?

Oh! No, you possessive king,

Do not take her away from us.

Her light's all that lights our path.

Without her, all is dark.

Be generous, bold king and 

Show her partly.

That light would suffice, aptly

I'm Sad!

I'm Sad!

Another loss. 

One more crime-boss

In my world of vigilantism and chaos. 

One more Quiz I lose,

One more thing which makes think of hanging from a noose.

Well, bad idea, there's a lot to lose.

Why is this? leave me some clues!!

They say a pride goes before a fall .How do you differentiate between pride and confidence? Who can draw that line? How can one ask that question to someone who had just lost?  Why can't one just see that someone is depressed? Do they have to worsen stuff?

Yeah well I lost something I had the confidence that I'd win. Well, maybe I had weak pillars by me. Maybe I, myself, was a weak pillar. Whatsoever, it was a sad day. I'm sad! I'm depressed and highly frustrated. 

Well, I did break my phone. Frustrated enough? Its display is screwed. Now, i'm not even nostalgic about it. Its this perpetual thought of losing this quiz which makes me sad and even more gloomy. This mood has started to become what defines me. 

Well, there won't be a next time for this. So maybe, somewhere else. Till we meet again, competitor, adieu. Congrats again! 

A premature thought: Arranged Marriage

A Premature Thought: Arranged Marriage

This could be a very highly premature thought. Probably 50 years ago, it would've been a very lately thought thought. Anyway, I find the institution of arranged marriage to be something that'd be bad, something unfriendly, something temporary.

I believe that the vedic customs and traditions can't be followed forever. I believe that traditions must be continually changing with the dynamic society. Society is not the same as it was a minute ago. 

Every other act in a society without dynamic traditions, would be a criminal act. Every other act would be blasphemous and unethical. In a society where MODERN technology plays a dominant role, VEDIC traditions and customs work with great difficulty. Where are the customs now that were once very prevalent and important? Who lights up diyas? Who checks vaasthu? Who actually does all Shit they must for some pooja or something? A fast life demands a fast changing custom. 

Imagine living the rest of your life with someone you've just met. How can you go marry someone whom you've known tops for a month when people can act fake for years and years and lifetimes to come? Would divorce be a remedy? "Oh no! Divorce? How dishonorable is that??! How would we raise our heads?!" Practically, a life filled with divorces would make the society with memory bondless and chain-broken with each other. The only advantage is lawyers getting richer. 

Well, think of living the rest of your life with someone you've known for a loooooong time. A time period enough to say that that person and myself can live!! Atleast the attachment between you and the other person is strong enough and not breakable by random comments and misguidance. Spending your whole life with someone you know would result in completely knowing the other person rather than marry a person you've known for a month or a year and not know them at all.

I once had this crazy or whatever dream which I don't even know the purpose of dreaming. It was all messed up. An ostentatious wedding. It was my wedding for some reason. Very lavish and guests were pouring in. I recognised few, some, I did not recognise nor wanted to/ felt like recognising. It was a marriage i had no clue about. Something I had not known at all. Maybe it was symbolic of the enigma and questions aroused in a person's mind before an arranged marriage. Maybe its the dilemma or confusion or a state of being lost. When I mingled with people and when they asked me about my 'fiancee' all I was able to do was stay quiet. I did not even know her name. Her face, when I saw it, was one of a stranger's. I did not live in the dream long enough to see the conclusion of it. I hope I did not get married in the dream. Sometimes i'm grateful I woke up!

If it was a person I actually knew and liked and wanted to marry, I'd curse myself for waking up.   

Birthdays!!

Birthdays!!

What I used to like about birthdays: cake, presents, friends, wishes, Birthday!

What I like about birthdays now: friends, solitude, wishes, Birthday!

But how peculiar is it that as time passes on, the things one likes about birthdays decreases gradually. It could just be 'maturity' or being busy. Whatsoever, its a sad thing anyway. Well maybe its a varying trend for a few. Cakes have become something cliche in my life. Presents are not novel anymore with the advent of social platforms or whatever. 

But whatsoever, every year contains 1 birthday of yours.
How peculiarly legitimate is it, the word 'birthday'? Birth and day. 

Think! 16th Birthday. How cleverly or how unknowingly did the person name it birthday? 16th-Birth day.
Every year, you are the same as you were last year. Every year, you're a completely different person. You're just like an android upgrading  itself regularly. Every year, you're novel, unlike birthday presents, someone new to have a look at, unlike birthday cakes and you get a chance to look through how you're new and better. 

Every year, you're reborn. Hence they say 16th-birth day. That that day was the day you were born for the 16th time. A 16th re-incarnation. 

Battle of Thermopylae

Battle of Thermopylae

The fierce battle of Thermopylae. 300 Spartans vs an entire Persian empire. Leonidas Vs. Xerxes. The fierce battle fought for 3 days. Spartans, a valiant fight, a deadly comeback, a war to remember.

~rewind rewind rewind (sound)~ ~different scenario~ 

~ |> play ~

3 days of intense, fierce war. 30 students. only 12 get a higher rank. Only 2 get to win. A 'hunger games' scenario. Well it was another day of quizzing. This quiz needed something else. Aptitude, presence of mind, thinking capacity with agility. 

A series of questions, conquered. There came a time when it was tense. Everything was tense. 15 seconds demanded an answer. War cries echoed in my mind and with a quite audible voice, I remember shouting at my friend. "Shut up!". 8 seconds demanded the same answer. "3.6!" I blurted. Approval and points were all i got. It was not done. Needed more fight in it. Needed more bloodshed. The battle grew tenser as we seemed to have approached the end of the day. The last chance to strike was ours. We needed to strike and strike at the right time, in the right spot. There was no use otherwise. ~Sherlock mode on!!~ There came the quest "Established in 1908, leading car-manufacturer.... turned aero-based manufacturer....which company?" 15 seconds demanded it. Boeing fogged my thoughts. I knew it was not the answer. I was running around memory lanes. Finally caught it. "ROLLS ROYCE" shot out before I was able to think why. The answer followed "Rolls-Royce: engine manufacturer: Boeing and Airbus". It was the right strike. We managed to qualify. The whole Rolls-Royce incident felt like Sherlock cracking 'Van Buuren's Supernova." First battle: Conquered. 

Second one followed the next day. This was one I had to win. Win this, my name would be echoing and glory would accompany the sound. Prelims sounded the war horn, we emerged victorious. A 21 kill count. The most number of kills for the prelim. We qualified. One step closer to eternal glory. As is reached the pinacle of this hill, I saw in front of me, enemy ships delivering armies and weapons. The job seemed tough. But who was I? A person quigically fit!. Who was with me? My partner. What could I become? Sherlock Mode ON! And there started the kill streak. One by one, as me and my partner cut each question into mince, there sounded the horn of victory. A kill count of 195. A 70 count margin. We emerged victorious. Back at home, Felicitation had an air of glory and honour. The path to war veteran was laid in green, accompanied by words of praise, shouts of cheer, screams of happiness and all-in-all, there I laid for myself and possibly for my comrade, a path of glory. It was a wonderful feeling. This was not all. One battle remained.

This was on foreign soil. Home ground advantage: zero. Support: zero. On our own: completely. 

It was ambush. I saw my health deteriorate. I saw my army dwindle. I saw a definite loss. I had to do something. With what I had left, with whatever sherlockness i had left in me, I stood up, Threw my guard down, I was vulnerable to anything. But risk was needed. Adrenaline accompanied my voice, mics were redundant. 4 quick buzzer answers laid our path to 4th position from a state of -5 to a state of +25. It was worth a run. It was a run, Leonidas, and finally, I threw my spear at Xerxes. It took a major part of his chunky body. I lost that battle, The Persian Army moved on. I don't know, nor do I think i care about it now. 

But today, I'm a new warrior, renewed, replenished, upgraded and bettered. Today I'm ten times of what I was before the Battle of Thermopylae. Tomorrow when another battle arrives and when my country calls for help, I will answer and I will lead to victory. Because when one falls, he rises up to be someone better than who he was.

  

x

x

Does it not burn when something that kills you has so many degrees? Does it not pleasure you that something that has so many degrees does not have a job? Its something you hate, you wanna kill. But its a dilemma as to whether you want to kill it or not, because that's the only thing that defines your life now or what makes life more or less interesting. Its like Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty, Batman and the Joker. They want to kill the other, but they know that everything gets meaningless without the other person. Sherlock= Master sleuth. Moriarty= Master criminal. One dies, the other rots. 

Its a similar relation I hold with this variable that 'constant'ly rules my life. This variable called 'x'. It has so many degrees. It can easily have infinite number of degrees and that without any difficulty at all. x^100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 and goes on till it is x^googoll. 

"It BURNS US! IT BURNS US!"

"What's the use, x?! You don't have a job"

"Oh really?! You think so? What do I do to you and what have I been doing to you for 6 years?"

"Killing mental peace"

"You have my job right there!"

"And what have I been doing to you, x?"

"Solving me to my very last degree. To my very last bit of power"

"You have my job there"

This goes on. I'm like this semi-master sleuth and x is the master problem. I could well rephrase Sherlock:

"You're a student. Infact, you're a math student..... Seen a lot of violent x[deaths] then!"

But it has become my Moriarty, my Joker. Life seems to cease without x in my life. A thought of not having x makes me feel empty. Maybe its like there should be some master problem which would always trouble someone just to give their life a meaning or something to live for. Something that defines their life.

"Oh! What's in your life?!"

"I keep solving x's problems"

"Oh so you're a science student?!"

"Yup"

"You must be having a life."

"Pfft"

"What? Think. Solving cases. Finding projectiles. Measuring Impacts. Implying logic. Logical implications. God! It's a life. Wish i had one!"

"Ya whatever!"

However, one does not know the complications and hardships in dealing with their arch-enemy. 

Whatsoever x, "Kill you? hahahahah! What would I do after I kill you? Go back to ripping off tally marks? No. You complete me!"

Life without you would be dull and boring, x! Thanks for making it interesting!   

When Dogs Charged At Me Like Horses Of Rohan

When Dogs Charged At Me Like Horses Of Rohan

There was this one time I used to live in school quarters. A huge school. Vast in area, with fields and brilliant architecture. It was not a school beyond par. But it was a school which had its own charm and awe. 

It was just another ordinary day in the life of a 8-year old: carefree, playful, irresponsible, childish. It was the time when the sun just began to set. Maybe around 4:30. I was walking across one of the many fields. Playfully jumping around and swaying, alone, merrily. My surroundings looked quite natural and as if they had been that way since ages, yet new. There was a huge tamarind tree behind me, which looked like a HUGE umbrella. Beside it was another huge mango tree. To my right was the primary section, big and wide. To my left was the wide expanse of sand and field, with tiny goal-posts. 

This merry mood of mine chose to ignore the dogs resting far away in that field. As I was journeying homeward, dancing with great pleasure, i heard a 'Woof'! A bark that seemed revengeful and angry. I looked in some directions and thought it was an illusion. A moment later, another bark, louder than before. This time my ears heard them right. On my left, running across the field, towards me, were 20 dogs, in one lengthy, abstract row, which seemed to be bringing doom and injury in every trod of theirs. Impulse said "RUN!". It did not tell me where. I was stuck in a dilemma as to climb a jungle gym and sit there or whether to run in another direction. 

In that spur of a moment, I ran. I looked back, and saw an army of dogs, charge at me like the well-bred, strong horses of Rohan. It seemed as if they'd stomp me to death. I remember this one dog. It was definitely not stray from the beginning. It was a breed one would usually have at home. Maybe it was abandoned. It was furry and hunky. Even more deadly looking than the others, though its domestic-pet-counterpart would look cute. 

Well, the run broke and I kissed the ground. My slippers tore. I was too slow to react. I was surrounded by these horses.

I was grounded, in every sense of the term. I could'nt get out of that ring. All i did was wriggle and swing my hands and legs wildly. I had no spear, i had no sword. I tried to inflict damage by delivering fluke kicks and punches. None of them landed. Now, i only tried saving myself and saving my body from any bite or scratch. I remember this one black dog, which only tried to bite my thumb toe off. And another one behind my head which tried to bite my head off. 

All i heard for another 5 minutes were my own wailing, loud, cries and growls of dogs. I did not lose hope for a long time but eventually lost out on stamina and energy. 

My swinging slowed. I became more vulnerable. I lost the power to survive. The Valinar saw. My cries were loud enough. High officials like the principal and other members from the B.O.G came with foot-soldiers and kerns, armed with sticks, stones and plastic pipes. This weaponry was enough. The horses, usually well-bred but turned wild, ran away. 

Somehow, I got out of it without a scratch. It did not make me hate of fear dogs. It just made me more close to them, maybe. 

Now I remember this in a series of images rather than one strip of video. But its still something i don't think i'd ever forget.  

Memory..

 Memory..

The problem is not bad memories. Its the good memories.
What harm do bad memories do? They probably sting for a jiffy. 
What harm to good memories do? They keep stinging for ages. 
If not ages, the time it takes makes sure the damage is done. They last long enough to inflict the damage.

The thing is, only few memories which are sad retain. Very few. Maybe ones which you caused and worsened and now you can't revert them.
But when a good memory which you really want can't be obtained, that's what stings more than a sad memory. Because sad memories can be gotten over. Good memories; you don't want to get over and want them back.
There will be one good memory you want to relive like hell. But you can't. You won't think the same about a bad one, nor will you care about it after sometime.
Better ones may come, you say? How do they matter when your focus is to relive those few memories. What good is it to get some other memories which are again in the risk of loss? The very thought of the good memory is impossible to leave behind and impossible to keep aside. As more good memories keep pouring in and emptying by the day, one is filled with regret and remorse and stinging pain, drowning in deep nostalgia.
Life has good things which it gives for rent. Its like giving a really awesome dog just to take it away the next day.
There is one particular time which i want to relive and i'd love reliving it a gazillion times.
The good in each passing day is gulped by nostalgia. When one is in constant nostalgia, there can't be much of identifiable good.
And every good memory leaves a scar. Every bad memory, leaves a healing wound.

The Starry Ground

The Starry Ground

That place was just amazing. 

Like random mosaic maze-ings.

The view was stark and breathtaking.

Three-hundred feet high. 

A cold and mildly starry night.

A fort of rocky might.
A light towering above all of the city lights.

As I looked down, it seemed as if space has fallen onto Earth.

Felt like stars fell from the sky after ripening.

As if they left the sky and their allying.

Wierd patterns these 'stars' formed. 

Some moved. Some lazed. 

A few amazed.

It was a sight for clueless gaze.

Down under, far below,

A conch bellowed.

Careful speculation showed gallows.

Right in the centre, the stars formed a lit halo.

Beside me went random chit chat and gossip.

How could they miss a sight 

Which gave serenity 

In every sip?

It does not seem like its quite justifiable.

Some stars heralded festivity. Some showed melancholy.

Some honked jolly.

Some were just holy.

A palace i ignored for this.

This was not a view someone could miss.

A cold mild wind gave me a gentle kiss.

Suddenly, there were a myriad stars up there.

Some shot through the pitch black sky.

A stupid floodlight spoilt that sight.

"Break the light!" There's enough starlight. 

Maybe, this is not  enough to describe it. 

Again, describing the sky on land 

Is not an easy knit.

An 'Unmarred' World of No Memory

An 'Unmarred' World Of No Memory

It is said that neither person nor object can be perfect. A person is alive. An object is not. So obviously, how can one decide the perfectness of an object? There are many ways: physics, chemistry, biology, philosophy....perception. It all depends on how one perceives things in his life. 

But what makes one perceive things? Experience? Emotions? Attachment? What do all these big yet little words add up to? They all sum up to memory. These words are all stored in this thing called memory and that's what decides how you're living.

Once a perception of something is on a negative scale, a bad memory is created. A memory that could haunt you forever or cheer you up forever. But eventually, one has to get over them. But is it not that many many people suffer for as long as they live, from these trauma? Is it fair to let the people with positive perceptions lives happily and people with negative perceptions live in grief? Is it fair to let them live in such a way until they die? Why not destroy memory? Why not make a world in which recoverable memory is absent? 

This world would have no sadness nor happiness for eternity. No pain or joy forever. No boredom. No ego. No selfishness. No permanent relation. No experience which would live on. No one would cry or laugh, frown or smile, chafe or praise anyone forever. 

A world without memory would be an unmarred world. Words like "everyday" would not exist and a new day would dawn new experiences. Everyday would be an adventure no matter how many times one does the same thing. 

The everyday problems of ego, greed, temper, obnoxiousness etc would not trouble anyone the next day. 
No need to dwell in the past. No need to think of older problems or happy moments. Maybe, without knowledge, one would relive the moment he would've wanted to if he had memory. Maybe he'd do the same thing the next day. 
There would be no authority. There would be one authority. Oneself! he is the master of himself. Maybe an authority would rise by depriving himself of sleep. How long can one live without sleep? 3 weeks? then what? death. Authority is dead. People will forget that there once existed an authority. 
Well, why? Is'nt the world similar to today's? What do people remember once something dies? One finds it hard and worthless to remember a dream. How would they remember a death? A birth? A joy? A grief? A similarity. People just forget once something is gone. The dead object is just another molecule in an ever-flowing river.
This world could only exist in a primitive one. maybe where the basic instincts of satisfying hunger, sleep, reproduction are the only ones that have developed and where evolution is at a halt. 
Careful speculation and questioning, however, shows that even this world is flawed.
No attachments, no heed to the dead, no permanent meaning of life, no ways of knowing oneself.

"how would you love them?

how would you know who you are?

what your own moral fiber is made of?

what you value?

it takes years to know oneself

love for everyone is good but like i said balance as much as there is love just as much there must be violence

thats why mother nature is not fair"
 These questions need answering. 
Turns out a perfect world of no memory, after all, is not achievable. Turns out memory plays a crucial role. Turns out that perfect and flawless are boring. Turns out that life is nothing without memory.
But thinking about such a memoryless, primitive world, keeps me enchanted and thrilled. New possibilities may pop out. New perfections, new pros and new cons. However it may go, i'm for a memoryless, primitive world. 

A Sonnet for the Rain

A Sonnet for the Rain

I'm lying on my bed,

Singing tracks of Troy

And rain pours like heaven

Bringing winds of joy.

I can see no raven,

Missives of bad boys.

The pour is some music,

It ain't some noise.

I can see a great shadow

Covering the Sun's eyes.

Clouds so grey and shallow,

Lighting up my mind.

Drops of water hollow

Eager to be filled with eyes

And the lake that far away,

I can't see it, it ain't a lie.

Wind-driven droplets thrilled

Keeps me calmly chilled.

This ain't no darkness of which to be sad.

This is a darkness of which one must be glad.

I see the flowers bent;

Playful but spent.

Strips of lightning 

Bring with them some noise..

And now i feel the wind,

Push me away 

From the brink.

Now that force will suffice.

Now i'm unknowingly drenched,

As water droplets clenched

The whole of my size..

Now the door is shut,

By no force but that,

Of that chilly wind that now cries

The rain is now hidden,

Beyond a shut door forbidden,

From myself to open,

Just to feel the rain one last time..

But now the rain is hidden.

By a door forbidden.

From myself to open.

Just to feel the rain.

One Last Time

Weekend of info flood!

Weekend of Info Flood

Weekends are generally peaceful, quiet, serene, restful blah blah blah. Some weekends are extremely extraordinary. One such weekend, a quizzing weekend, a flood of info. 

Saturday, The Kaikuu Quiz Fest. A whole day of extreme quizzing with people pouring in from all over the country, eager to tackle and win. I was just another small fish trying to survive the ocean of these quizzers. These "thope" quizzers whom are at par with few people. Where would I stand?

In a place where you can't tackle  what you're facing, its better to absorb all of it and use it in another place and tackle them, than to lose everything in one attempt; the war, the weapon and the chance.

Starting at 10 O'clock,preceded by a steep hike to a museum, the quiz went on till 9 in the evening. I, rather my army of 3; we stood no chance possibly killing about 4-5 in 2 of the 3 quizzes. The last one, with an army of 2, we killed 12-13. That day of war was over. It was all a flood whenever I chose to sit aside and watch how to kill a question, in every positive sense of it. Looking at those other aces ace each question, i learnt maneuvers and battle strategies. All that is left, is research and practice. At The end of that, we had dinner in a fort. 

The next day, The battle was called "Landmark Open". It was a tough competition. The stakes were high. Losing was dishonour. WE HAD TO WIN! Hence we started, digging through all the memory lanes, me and my army of 3, all the lanes we could go to. We got out all we could to plan killing each question. There were 40 odd questions. We managed to kill 18 and took half the life of another. The other people at par, they killed less. The final battle, fought by brothers and elder people, it was another flood of newer and greater knowledge. 

My army won the battle, we were the best army.

More than the winning, the flood and absorbing all the minerals in the flood, is what made me something new and someone better at war today. Maybe tomorrow, i'd be a bit more better now that i plan on starting research about the tactics and strategies used in the first war. 

A day as a tour guide

A day as a tour guide

I've always seen tour guides on TV or at some tourist destination I've been to. I always thought it was an easy job. Ask whether they needed a guide, show them around, cash and repeat the process again.

Only day before did I know how bloody tiring it is.

It was to be just another normal day. Maybe it was exciting for some of my friends. I was not excited at the prospect of showing around my school to students from another school. It was just another day, though it was the first time I'd be doing something like that. 

They arrived. An army of students. A battalion. Maybe 46-50. All dressed in pure white shirts and blue shaded pants. Neatly combed, freshly ironed. We had to go and introduce ourselves and mingle with this battalion to make them feel comfortable, homely and friendly. 

They were quite friendly. Maybe not all of them were. The ones I spoke to were quite social. I asked them questions accompanied by my classmate and they asked me questions about school and life. Questions, answers, conversations.

Time came to show these foreigners our magnificent school, spread over a 190 acres. A fellowship was selected. Myself and 5 others. A fellowship of 6 students, armed with the knowledge of the school, set out to show the foreigners the awe-inspiring fields and other unique features of our school. 
A journey of over 2 km. A journey across labs and fields. Planes and tanks. Musicians and cricketers. Hiking and trekking. ......... basically all the tiring activities. 
The list is too big. My activeness and patience, quite small. I'm too lazy nowadays. So basically, i figured out how tiring a guide's job is. To roam around the whole place and giving continuous information about the area. ~sigh~. Well, new experiences. They last!