November 10, 2010

Lavender~

born out of a common seed, how cum the flower's a lavender bloom?


when comes the rain, save it... for now its only June


it makes me sick the way it grows, happy and modest and shiny and soft..


i wonder why i am not the flower while the flower has it all...





there is a chill beyond the glass... i see the season's changed... 


where is the bloom that once was there;  nothing's left but frozen rain


it hurts to be so loving... so caring, oh i just cant cry...


it was such a lovely sight to my blind, glass eye





the grip is loose, my pen might fall... when was the last time i scratched a word


there is no-one on the door and yet my heart keeps pounding, telling me stop


so many shades of faded cloth ... what beautiful dresses they could have been...


i wonder what that shade of peculiar purple cud be trying to remind me..





oh i too had a garden once... with a dozen different forms of life..


no i did not plot flowers like u, but my bushes i did like


there was grass and weed and thorns and shrubs, little white and yellow petals that would decay on their own


and my garden was still as glorious as your freshly pruned one with the handsome gnome





Ha! I laugh at the wonderful tragedy... i remember now what it was...


a bottle of old, old wine that made my vision blur


i think i know that flower was not a lavender after all


it was just something wild





where are my shawls, my slippers and tea?


oh yes, i feel better now...


its better to forget old fancies and stupid bits of memory


than to be trapped in that question, that knows all, but answers none, that possibility of whether i could have been that flower , or was i that fog


oh hush, let me sleep


its late


and that lavender was not mine after all.

-shambhavi

July 31, 2010

Classroom crushes and stupid butterflies

The butterfly drifted past the window, flapping its beautiful wings once or twice before flying towards the two eyes that had been following her for a long time, making her way towards the soft pink landing on the window sill.

The eyes squinted for a better view at the butterfly’s trajectory before expanding in horror as she stood up with a start and made a run for the window, trying her best to reach there before the beautiful creature could land on the mound of bubble-gum, pushing a few desks over in her hurry to reach the creature and just then, as she stood a good foot away a sharp voice called her from the front of the room-

Miss Sharma!”

“Sir!” she stopped dead in her track, suddenly becoming very aware of 40 sets of eyes staring at her from every direction. She quickly turned around to find the fiercest set of the lot boring into her own scared two and she smiled the most stupid of her smiles, still as dead.

“BHOTT NANSENSE!!!” the smile vanished instantly to be replaced by a more acceptable expression, that of mourning.

“Sorry sir.”

“Running in my class like this! Bhott do you think this is? Phish-market?”

“Sorry sir.”

“Shitt down!”

She instantly ‘shatt’ down on the nearest empty chair, waiting only for the dreaded Mr Khanna to turn towards the blackboard and resume his lecture on thermodynamics before turning towards the window to find the butterfly had landed, not on the gum but a sheet of paper! Someone in that class apart from her had been watching the butterfly too, who, she began to wonder just as her eyes fell on the new student who sat next to the same window sill. His shiny hair and sweaty T-shirt made her gape at the resemblance he held with her favourite rock star! she could already imagine the future dates they would go to and the dresses she would wear to match the colour of his eyes (whatever their colour be), how the two of them would sit together in classes as boring as these and stare out of the same window-sill, saving pretty butterflies together, hand in hand as they did the noble deed.

Just then the guy shifted in his place to reveal a set of braces shining behind him and the lanky, freckled face of Babloo smiled foolishly at her, sitting next to the window-sill, pointing a finger first at the paper covering the gum and then at his cheek, making her hand slide off the desk in shock.



“Looney!” mocked a few guys from the seat behind her just as the bell rang for recess. She stuck her tongue out at the guys before adding bitterly to herself, “Stupid Butterflies!”, and walked out.

August 25, 2009

REBIRTH....

This one is supposed to be a lost piece of writing... one i had composed when i was 12-13 years old, trying to find my own style of writing... thanks to an old friend who mailed me a copy of the document i had sent him.. so here it is..



REBIRTH

Any deed that's bad can be hidden under the cover of business. No one ever said that I was murderer, though I killed people; lots of them, yet I could breathe inside my skin. They did say I had sold myself to the devil, but always behind my back, and I never minded what they said, I had the perfect excuse- I had the license to kill.
Though if I'm true to myself, I certainly can't deny that it's left marks on my soul; I had changed, from the simple, innocent boy of the village to one of the most feared and hated men alive. I had grown petrous and fierce, the way I had to be to act my job. No, I wasn't a felonious slayer, I was an armed law keeper, I killed those who killed the law; it was my job.
Armed as always with my trusty sabre, I was exploring the streets of the town that pluvial night, a drenched piece of parchment clutched in my fist as I turned round the corner. A sudden crunch of footsteps caught my ears as I swiftly turned around to find a blurred figure walking out of the liquid shadows of the houses. I narrowed my eyes as the figure became clearer and soon the man's gaze met mine, a pang of recognition raced through me as I looked down at the parchment in my hand; he was the face I had been looking for. He walked further ahead as
I gently crumbled the shadowy vignette of the fugitive, my armsliding over the sabre as I waited for him to advance, my grip tightened as he looked at me, and then I was set back by a strange gesture, he smiled, not the ominous smile of one ready for a fight but a smile that meant welcome… how many humans had I seen smiling at their death? A sharp flash of lightning forced him to cover his face as I saw his weapons- a loaf of soaking bread and a bottle of diluted whisky.
"A fine evening, isn't it?" He shouted though I stood only a few inches from him. For once I was certain that he was out of his head; the weather that night was far from fine.
"You wouldn't mind giving me a hand, Oliver, would you?" he said, stumbling on the gravel so that I dropped my sabre and jumped forward, grabbing him by the shoulders to prevent his fall, something I wouldn't have done for anyone, I was surprised at myself.
"I beg your pardon, fellow, my name is not Oliver. I'm Jack," I helped him sit on the footpath as more rain poured over us. He didn't seem to have heard my words as he hungrily munched on his bread with sudden sips fr
om the whisky.
"It was so nice of you to have stolen the keys from the guards, Oliver. I couldn't have escaped without your help, thank you" so that's how he had escaped, and he thought me to be a thief who steals keys, I snorted in disapproval, "You've been so nice to me, I wish I could do something to repay you!" He seemed over drunk, I smiled.
"I was sent here to kill you," said I, my eyes gliding to the sabre that lay a few inches from my hand, but this man seemed least bothered about anything I said, he couldn't hear me, engaged in his food as water trickled down his round, scarred nose and another bolt of lightning blinded me for a split second. Then with a certain jump he turned to stare at me, his innocent gray eyes full of what I recognized as tears.
"I know you must be hungry, they didn't give us anything to eat in that dreaded prison! But don't worry, those days are over now," so saying, he tore a piece of bread and stuffed it into my mouth without warning. I tried to speak but the bread prevented any words from escaping and I had to give up and begin chewing.
"You know what Oliver? You are my only friend in this whole wide world! They killed my wife and daughter, but I have no regrets, I've already slain their murderer, he shall go to hell!" I felt sorry for him. But now, as he stuffed more bread into my mouth, I seemed to enjoy this Oliver character. He seemed to be taking me for his friend back at the prison. I liked the way he sat there, innocently munching on his bread. Could he really be a murderer, did he deserve to be killed for running away from a prison where he had been imprisoned for killing a man who had killed his family? Wouldn't I have done the same if I was in his place?
"I'm sorry I had to run without you when they caught you at the doors Oliver, I'm ashamed. But now that you've come, we shall both leave the country together and never return!" I was compelled to a temporary imprisonment in his pure speech, "But there's this one last thing I want to do before we leave,"

"What is it?" I asked, forgetting my real name.
"I want to give something to my old mother, would you like to see it?"
"Oh, yes!" said I, excitement filling me as I forgot the inner bitterness that had been ruling me for years. He turned around to scan the corners of the streets, as the rain gradually grew harder, then with an unsatisfied click of his tongue he looked back into my eyes.
"I'm sorry Oliver, I can't trust this night, there might be someone lurking around whom we can't see," my face drooped slightly as he picked up the whisky bottle and tried drinking from it before discovering that it was empty and angrily throwing it onto the stone path.
"Oh, but I can tell you it's safely kept here," he dabbed at his chest as the sound of breaking glass melted into the splattering of raindrops on the footpath.
"It's in your chest?" I asked.
"No, my heart! Do you want to hear it, Oliver?" I nodded my head; he bent forward and whispered it in my ear, "I love you! That's what I want to tell my mum. I want her to know that I love her before I leave," he smiled before crossing his legs and mumbling something that sounded strangely similar to a lullaby. I sat there, looking at him. His innocent and true words had made me believe that I was his friend Oliver for some time, the thought now brought amusement to me as I laughed before stopping abruptly, the five minutes spent with this fugitive had brought me back to the older me, the innocent, faithful Jack whom I had buried inside my own self for twelve years. And the stranger part yet was that I was granted freedom by a fugitive who was supposed to be dead five minutes ago, and now, as I looked at my sabre that lay away from me, I felt I had become Oliver for the time we talked, for him, and I liked it.
Certain sounds caught my ears as I suddenly jumped up. There were people all around us as a mass of shadows poured in along with the rain from all corners of the street. I hurriedly picked up my blade, holding it firmly as I had when I first saw the man who sat beside me; the only difference was that earlier it was to kill him, and now to save him from being killed.
I shouted for him to run as he stumbled to a standing position and began running.
The shadows grew distinct as the men ran to the footpath; one of my friends gave me a sharp pat on the back, signalling me to follow the fugitive whom I had to kill. They pulled me forward, I struggled, unsure of which option to take, this was difficult, I was strangled in the two souls that resided in me.
But just when I thought I knew which role to play, a loud, piercing howl of pain subdued the scream of the rain and I ran to the spot where a number of silent men stood, there blades placed innocently inside the sheathes that hung from their waists and the only thing clearly visible was the shining silver body of a sword held in the arms of the same man who had patted me, the edges of which shone in red life and as I looked down, the dead body of the fugitive lay staring at me with wild, lifeless eyes. I couldn't help it as a tear rolled down my cheek, this was the first time I had seen death and not business.
That evening faded away into the memories of the shadows that ruled the nights and none seemed to be aware of the cruel killing of the man who had selflessly shared his last bread with a stranger. A few weeks later, an old woman sat beside a grave, her face shining in clear tears, staring at the earth that had been evened by the stamp of feet and a wooden cross that stood penetrating out of the breast of the grave, resembling a knife dabbed into a human.
A shadow walked out of the elms that surrounded the graveyard, carrying something in his arms as he came. The lady seemed surprised to see this young man and the sight of what he was carrying made her crawl back a few inches, but the man simply walked forward, paying the least attention to the lady's fright as he placed a bundle on the grave, the metal grip of a sword protruding from the cloth wrappings. T
hen with a few solemn words, he turned around to face the old woman with a consoling smile.
"Do not be unhappy, your son had you in his mind when he died," said the man in a soothing voice, something very different from that of a person who coul
d kill. The woman walked forward, her wrinkles stretching into grim curiosity.
"There is this one thing he wanted to tell you before he left…" so saying, the man bent forward and whispered three soft words in her ears. They seemed to have made her happy beyond measure as the woman burst into tears of joy. The man walked forward but she halted his progress, "Who are you?" she asked.
The man turned around to look at the bundle that lay on the grave and then with a smile, he patted her, "Oliver!" He walked slowly away, disappearing into the elms as the old woman slumped onto the grave of her son, tears of happiness flowing through her eyes as a sharp wind blew over the graveyard and the bundle was covered in a layer of soil, to be kept in the heart of the earth forever.


not the best piece grammatically, bt beats me hw i managed :)

August 15, 2009

Reason, Season, Lifetime...


there once was a piece of paper..
a very nice, shiny paper... one who believed in the pencil .. one who stood by her... one who spent hours talkin to her.. one who waited for her...
the pencil once was a friend.. one who cheated, who lied, who cried, who ignored...one who moved on...and wrote not a word on the paper...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
June 16,2005:
Reason, Season, Lifetime...

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant. Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you were a reason, a season or a lifetime.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

August 15, 2009:

you came in my life for a reason... you made me stronger and more truthfull.. you encouraged me to believe and to stand up...

you stood with me for a season, a season that taught me love and trust, friendship and sacrifice...
a season that untold all life's rules to me and made me free, to become what i wanted, and taught me the essence of being so close to achieving what you wanted all this time that you can sense it in your viens, only to give it all up for the good of suomeone else...

you will be with me for a lifetime... all i've learnt and experienced with you might go, but the clear, joyfull laughter we shared shall stay as a part of me forever.

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August 1, 2009

ON FRIENDSHIP DAY...





Sitting with the plated blue skirt tucked under her thighs, she looked nervously round the room full of faces... round, thin, pale, bright, crying, smiling, sleepy faces...
there were more children in that room full of chairs and desks than there were pencils in her box, the thought made her uneasy as she took out the pencils and counted them again, finishing at 14 as she placed them back and returned to her nervous inspection of the room...
There was a boy beside her, tiny and thin, but he had a horribly big mouth, and he wailed even more horribly with it! It was confusing... she couldn't decide if she wanted him to stop crying or to join in...the typical first-day-at-school-fever was not new to her, she had had her share of it when she had joined prep, breaking almost everythn in sight to be able to go back home, yet her attempts had failed as she had been forced and tempted and lured into studying with chocolates and nice shiny pencils and she had made it through the first year...
but today was different... it was her first day in the first standard... first day in a new school... amidst an entirely new set of strange faces that were more than her pencils...
She hung in between the choice of crying or not crying when suddenly she saw her enter the class... a girl smaller than she was, with strange golden-brown hair the kind of which she had never seen and even stranger green eyes...the brown-haired girl moved her head in a stupid noddy-like manner and smiled at her... and she found her confusion dissapear as she forgot all about crying and smiled back...
Later that day, as she sat beside her mommy in the verandah, chewing on a carrot after having told her all that had happened that day, the brown haired and green eyed girl crossed her mind and she asked her mum if there was a way to turn strange-green-eyed-girls into normal-brown-eyed-girls...

...mommy laughed.

11 years have passed since that fateful day... and life came across with numerous people and even more challenges... situations and decisions that brought out the best and worst in me, i started with the world... and today i have only a handful ...
but the best part of it is that this handful makes my world complete...

there are only a few people who stand by you when times get tougher than you are... who share with you your burdens... who laugh at your silliest jokes... but most importantly, who make you what you are.
to me,
these few people are not just my friends... they comprise the most precious and pure part of 'me'.

They are the ones who have made me look into myself, who have moulded me, who have given me strength and light, who have been my shield, and my way to the world...

thankyou guys, for being who you are.

4 special thankyous for the most special friends i have, to whom i owe the most important parts of me...
the first for my best friend for life, my brother... thankyou bhaiya... you have always been my inspiration.
all my intelligence and wisdom, i owe to you.

thankyou my strange-green-eyed-girl , for always standing by me...your eyes, your hair, and you yourself are the most beautiful in the world...
i am understanding because you made me so.

thankyou chuchoo... for solving all my problems, even the math ones : ) and for believing in me.
i am brave because of you.

lastly... thankyou mommy... for being such a great friend... who has been there for me always. I never let you know i need help, but somehow, how i can never understand, you always have the right thing to say at the right time that makes me stronger and wiser and gives me hope.

Guys, and mom, had it not been for your love, hatred, kindness, support, insight, mistakes and wisdom, i would have always been afraid to face the world that had more people than the number of pencils i owned.

July 8, 2009

~nothing like love~


Sometimes it’s so hard...to say what I’ve got..
There’s never been a reason to speak...
Sometimes it rains... like it will never stop... & i watch it fall down at ease...
It never mattered whether the clouds would clear...
Never mattered where I would be...
this life was all so empty ... & all I had was ... me.
they say no angels come to your life... nobody to hear your pains... & I would smile & tell ‘em I don’t need no-one, I have nothing that’s sad attached to me...
everything was fine... nothing unique.. The same old days... & nights...the sun.. the breeze...
but a miracle happened.. & it happened to me..
you came in my life... & brightened it with your light...
all my tears... my pain that I liked to hide... you took it away with that one smile...
I cursed myself... ran away... but never believed...
how cud it happen? happen to me?
I was a coward... scared of coming out of my shell...
didn’t want no1 to touch me... know me...
but then u entered my shell n pulled me out.. & showed me the real me.........
you touched me... & made me alright..
Cured my wounds... n gave me your light... I got wings now...n i fly ever so high...
soaring the skies like a kite that aint shy...
and its all ‘cuz of a miracle... that happened with me.
I am no longer afraid... alone ... scared...
I am no longer what I don’t want to be...
I’m in love with my life... myself...
all ‘cuz today i have you... n u believe in me...
This isn’t love... this isn’t a story or a dream...
this aint anything like what they think...
This is much more than anyone can ever know... greater than ne imagination's being
it’s a miracle...
you r it... & m so lucky... you happened to me.
I have nothing in this world.. Every other thing is inheritance...
I have nothing within me...’cuz everything i had ... I’ve given it to you...
I am an empty box..
full of your light..
& it feels so incredible to be me..
with no burden.. no weight...
I am so brave... n so light...
I cud fly... n fly so high..
but this aint love... nothing like that...
This is a miracle...n that miracle is YOU

.

Shadow.



It’s always talking hours, isn’t it? You ask what’s wrong... Baby... look into my heart... this is what I've got to say---

I walk an empty road
n sometimes I find these shadows
I look around n I see you there
Somewhere.. Where I cannot say
Why do u always think that you r lonely
It’s been long since we last met
I touched u or when we slept
So close together I cud feel your breath
n feel ok... m alive...
I walk this empty road..
n now when I turn back
you’re there but not beside
Somewhere in the shadows.. I see your face
it’s been long.. n I have a long way
try holding your hand.. it just slips away
this is how it goes.. my journey stays

can’t see u there, somewhere in the shadows u stay
that’s all I had to say

but maybe u were too busy writing your own lines to read what i said
but it’s okay.. no worries
I go thru it always

each time I wish u would listen.. u just mumble n walk away..
away.. that’s where you are
somewhere in the shadows.. i see your face
it’s not that i don’t have a life...
I have 1 I love just enough
but something’s missing as I walk on n on
a piece of me that's gone astray
I walk this empty road...
n I have a long way
each time I wish u were there
can du nothing but wish it were day
it’s been long... n I have nothing but shadows
n somewhere in them..I lost your face

November 10, 2010

Lavender~

born out of a common seed, how cum the flower's a lavender bloom?


when comes the rain, save it... for now its only June


it makes me sick the way it grows, happy and modest and shiny and soft..


i wonder why i am not the flower while the flower has it all...





there is a chill beyond the glass... i see the season's changed... 


where is the bloom that once was there;  nothing's left but frozen rain


it hurts to be so loving... so caring, oh i just cant cry...


it was such a lovely sight to my blind, glass eye





the grip is loose, my pen might fall... when was the last time i scratched a word


there is no-one on the door and yet my heart keeps pounding, telling me stop


so many shades of faded cloth ... what beautiful dresses they could have been...


i wonder what that shade of peculiar purple cud be trying to remind me..





oh i too had a garden once... with a dozen different forms of life..


no i did not plot flowers like u, but my bushes i did like


there was grass and weed and thorns and shrubs, little white and yellow petals that would decay on their own


and my garden was still as glorious as your freshly pruned one with the handsome gnome





Ha! I laugh at the wonderful tragedy... i remember now what it was...


a bottle of old, old wine that made my vision blur


i think i know that flower was not a lavender after all


it was just something wild





where are my shawls, my slippers and tea?


oh yes, i feel better now...


its better to forget old fancies and stupid bits of memory


than to be trapped in that question, that knows all, but answers none, that possibility of whether i could have been that flower , or was i that fog


oh hush, let me sleep


its late


and that lavender was not mine after all.

-shambhavi

July 31, 2010

Classroom crushes and stupid butterflies

The butterfly drifted past the window, flapping its beautiful wings once or twice before flying towards the two eyes that had been following her for a long time, making her way towards the soft pink landing on the window sill.

The eyes squinted for a better view at the butterfly’s trajectory before expanding in horror as she stood up with a start and made a run for the window, trying her best to reach there before the beautiful creature could land on the mound of bubble-gum, pushing a few desks over in her hurry to reach the creature and just then, as she stood a good foot away a sharp voice called her from the front of the room-

Miss Sharma!”

“Sir!” she stopped dead in her track, suddenly becoming very aware of 40 sets of eyes staring at her from every direction. She quickly turned around to find the fiercest set of the lot boring into her own scared two and she smiled the most stupid of her smiles, still as dead.

“BHOTT NANSENSE!!!” the smile vanished instantly to be replaced by a more acceptable expression, that of mourning.

“Sorry sir.”

“Running in my class like this! Bhott do you think this is? Phish-market?”

“Sorry sir.”

“Shitt down!”

She instantly ‘shatt’ down on the nearest empty chair, waiting only for the dreaded Mr Khanna to turn towards the blackboard and resume his lecture on thermodynamics before turning towards the window to find the butterfly had landed, not on the gum but a sheet of paper! Someone in that class apart from her had been watching the butterfly too, who, she began to wonder just as her eyes fell on the new student who sat next to the same window sill. His shiny hair and sweaty T-shirt made her gape at the resemblance he held with her favourite rock star! she could already imagine the future dates they would go to and the dresses she would wear to match the colour of his eyes (whatever their colour be), how the two of them would sit together in classes as boring as these and stare out of the same window-sill, saving pretty butterflies together, hand in hand as they did the noble deed.

Just then the guy shifted in his place to reveal a set of braces shining behind him and the lanky, freckled face of Babloo smiled foolishly at her, sitting next to the window-sill, pointing a finger first at the paper covering the gum and then at his cheek, making her hand slide off the desk in shock.



“Looney!” mocked a few guys from the seat behind her just as the bell rang for recess. She stuck her tongue out at the guys before adding bitterly to herself, “Stupid Butterflies!”, and walked out.

August 25, 2009

REBIRTH....

This one is supposed to be a lost piece of writing... one i had composed when i was 12-13 years old, trying to find my own style of writing... thanks to an old friend who mailed me a copy of the document i had sent him.. so here it is..



REBIRTH

Any deed that's bad can be hidden under the cover of business. No one ever said that I was murderer, though I killed people; lots of them, yet I could breathe inside my skin. They did say I had sold myself to the devil, but always behind my back, and I never minded what they said, I had the perfect excuse- I had the license to kill.
Though if I'm true to myself, I certainly can't deny that it's left marks on my soul; I had changed, from the simple, innocent boy of the village to one of the most feared and hated men alive. I had grown petrous and fierce, the way I had to be to act my job. No, I wasn't a felonious slayer, I was an armed law keeper, I killed those who killed the law; it was my job.
Armed as always with my trusty sabre, I was exploring the streets of the town that pluvial night, a drenched piece of parchment clutched in my fist as I turned round the corner. A sudden crunch of footsteps caught my ears as I swiftly turned around to find a blurred figure walking out of the liquid shadows of the houses. I narrowed my eyes as the figure became clearer and soon the man's gaze met mine, a pang of recognition raced through me as I looked down at the parchment in my hand; he was the face I had been looking for. He walked further ahead as
I gently crumbled the shadowy vignette of the fugitive, my armsliding over the sabre as I waited for him to advance, my grip tightened as he looked at me, and then I was set back by a strange gesture, he smiled, not the ominous smile of one ready for a fight but a smile that meant welcome… how many humans had I seen smiling at their death? A sharp flash of lightning forced him to cover his face as I saw his weapons- a loaf of soaking bread and a bottle of diluted whisky.
"A fine evening, isn't it?" He shouted though I stood only a few inches from him. For once I was certain that he was out of his head; the weather that night was far from fine.
"You wouldn't mind giving me a hand, Oliver, would you?" he said, stumbling on the gravel so that I dropped my sabre and jumped forward, grabbing him by the shoulders to prevent his fall, something I wouldn't have done for anyone, I was surprised at myself.
"I beg your pardon, fellow, my name is not Oliver. I'm Jack," I helped him sit on the footpath as more rain poured over us. He didn't seem to have heard my words as he hungrily munched on his bread with sudden sips fr
om the whisky.
"It was so nice of you to have stolen the keys from the guards, Oliver. I couldn't have escaped without your help, thank you" so that's how he had escaped, and he thought me to be a thief who steals keys, I snorted in disapproval, "You've been so nice to me, I wish I could do something to repay you!" He seemed over drunk, I smiled.
"I was sent here to kill you," said I, my eyes gliding to the sabre that lay a few inches from my hand, but this man seemed least bothered about anything I said, he couldn't hear me, engaged in his food as water trickled down his round, scarred nose and another bolt of lightning blinded me for a split second. Then with a certain jump he turned to stare at me, his innocent gray eyes full of what I recognized as tears.
"I know you must be hungry, they didn't give us anything to eat in that dreaded prison! But don't worry, those days are over now," so saying, he tore a piece of bread and stuffed it into my mouth without warning. I tried to speak but the bread prevented any words from escaping and I had to give up and begin chewing.
"You know what Oliver? You are my only friend in this whole wide world! They killed my wife and daughter, but I have no regrets, I've already slain their murderer, he shall go to hell!" I felt sorry for him. But now, as he stuffed more bread into my mouth, I seemed to enjoy this Oliver character. He seemed to be taking me for his friend back at the prison. I liked the way he sat there, innocently munching on his bread. Could he really be a murderer, did he deserve to be killed for running away from a prison where he had been imprisoned for killing a man who had killed his family? Wouldn't I have done the same if I was in his place?
"I'm sorry I had to run without you when they caught you at the doors Oliver, I'm ashamed. But now that you've come, we shall both leave the country together and never return!" I was compelled to a temporary imprisonment in his pure speech, "But there's this one last thing I want to do before we leave,"

"What is it?" I asked, forgetting my real name.
"I want to give something to my old mother, would you like to see it?"
"Oh, yes!" said I, excitement filling me as I forgot the inner bitterness that had been ruling me for years. He turned around to scan the corners of the streets, as the rain gradually grew harder, then with an unsatisfied click of his tongue he looked back into my eyes.
"I'm sorry Oliver, I can't trust this night, there might be someone lurking around whom we can't see," my face drooped slightly as he picked up the whisky bottle and tried drinking from it before discovering that it was empty and angrily throwing it onto the stone path.
"Oh, but I can tell you it's safely kept here," he dabbed at his chest as the sound of breaking glass melted into the splattering of raindrops on the footpath.
"It's in your chest?" I asked.
"No, my heart! Do you want to hear it, Oliver?" I nodded my head; he bent forward and whispered it in my ear, "I love you! That's what I want to tell my mum. I want her to know that I love her before I leave," he smiled before crossing his legs and mumbling something that sounded strangely similar to a lullaby. I sat there, looking at him. His innocent and true words had made me believe that I was his friend Oliver for some time, the thought now brought amusement to me as I laughed before stopping abruptly, the five minutes spent with this fugitive had brought me back to the older me, the innocent, faithful Jack whom I had buried inside my own self for twelve years. And the stranger part yet was that I was granted freedom by a fugitive who was supposed to be dead five minutes ago, and now, as I looked at my sabre that lay away from me, I felt I had become Oliver for the time we talked, for him, and I liked it.
Certain sounds caught my ears as I suddenly jumped up. There were people all around us as a mass of shadows poured in along with the rain from all corners of the street. I hurriedly picked up my blade, holding it firmly as I had when I first saw the man who sat beside me; the only difference was that earlier it was to kill him, and now to save him from being killed.
I shouted for him to run as he stumbled to a standing position and began running.
The shadows grew distinct as the men ran to the footpath; one of my friends gave me a sharp pat on the back, signalling me to follow the fugitive whom I had to kill. They pulled me forward, I struggled, unsure of which option to take, this was difficult, I was strangled in the two souls that resided in me.
But just when I thought I knew which role to play, a loud, piercing howl of pain subdued the scream of the rain and I ran to the spot where a number of silent men stood, there blades placed innocently inside the sheathes that hung from their waists and the only thing clearly visible was the shining silver body of a sword held in the arms of the same man who had patted me, the edges of which shone in red life and as I looked down, the dead body of the fugitive lay staring at me with wild, lifeless eyes. I couldn't help it as a tear rolled down my cheek, this was the first time I had seen death and not business.
That evening faded away into the memories of the shadows that ruled the nights and none seemed to be aware of the cruel killing of the man who had selflessly shared his last bread with a stranger. A few weeks later, an old woman sat beside a grave, her face shining in clear tears, staring at the earth that had been evened by the stamp of feet and a wooden cross that stood penetrating out of the breast of the grave, resembling a knife dabbed into a human.
A shadow walked out of the elms that surrounded the graveyard, carrying something in his arms as he came. The lady seemed surprised to see this young man and the sight of what he was carrying made her crawl back a few inches, but the man simply walked forward, paying the least attention to the lady's fright as he placed a bundle on the grave, the metal grip of a sword protruding from the cloth wrappings. T
hen with a few solemn words, he turned around to face the old woman with a consoling smile.
"Do not be unhappy, your son had you in his mind when he died," said the man in a soothing voice, something very different from that of a person who coul
d kill. The woman walked forward, her wrinkles stretching into grim curiosity.
"There is this one thing he wanted to tell you before he left…" so saying, the man bent forward and whispered three soft words in her ears. They seemed to have made her happy beyond measure as the woman burst into tears of joy. The man walked forward but she halted his progress, "Who are you?" she asked.
The man turned around to look at the bundle that lay on the grave and then with a smile, he patted her, "Oliver!" He walked slowly away, disappearing into the elms as the old woman slumped onto the grave of her son, tears of happiness flowing through her eyes as a sharp wind blew over the graveyard and the bundle was covered in a layer of soil, to be kept in the heart of the earth forever.


not the best piece grammatically, bt beats me hw i managed :)

August 15, 2009

Reason, Season, Lifetime...


there once was a piece of paper..
a very nice, shiny paper... one who believed in the pencil .. one who stood by her... one who spent hours talkin to her.. one who waited for her...
the pencil once was a friend.. one who cheated, who lied, who cried, who ignored...one who moved on...and wrote not a word on the paper...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
June 16,2005:
Reason, Season, Lifetime...

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant. Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you were a reason, a season or a lifetime.
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August 15, 2009:

you came in my life for a reason... you made me stronger and more truthfull.. you encouraged me to believe and to stand up...

you stood with me for a season, a season that taught me love and trust, friendship and sacrifice...
a season that untold all life's rules to me and made me free, to become what i wanted, and taught me the essence of being so close to achieving what you wanted all this time that you can sense it in your viens, only to give it all up for the good of suomeone else...

you will be with me for a lifetime... all i've learnt and experienced with you might go, but the clear, joyfull laughter we shared shall stay as a part of me forever.

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August 1, 2009

ON FRIENDSHIP DAY...





Sitting with the plated blue skirt tucked under her thighs, she looked nervously round the room full of faces... round, thin, pale, bright, crying, smiling, sleepy faces...
there were more children in that room full of chairs and desks than there were pencils in her box, the thought made her uneasy as she took out the pencils and counted them again, finishing at 14 as she placed them back and returned to her nervous inspection of the room...
There was a boy beside her, tiny and thin, but he had a horribly big mouth, and he wailed even more horribly with it! It was confusing... she couldn't decide if she wanted him to stop crying or to join in...the typical first-day-at-school-fever was not new to her, she had had her share of it when she had joined prep, breaking almost everythn in sight to be able to go back home, yet her attempts had failed as she had been forced and tempted and lured into studying with chocolates and nice shiny pencils and she had made it through the first year...
but today was different... it was her first day in the first standard... first day in a new school... amidst an entirely new set of strange faces that were more than her pencils...
She hung in between the choice of crying or not crying when suddenly she saw her enter the class... a girl smaller than she was, with strange golden-brown hair the kind of which she had never seen and even stranger green eyes...the brown-haired girl moved her head in a stupid noddy-like manner and smiled at her... and she found her confusion dissapear as she forgot all about crying and smiled back...
Later that day, as she sat beside her mommy in the verandah, chewing on a carrot after having told her all that had happened that day, the brown haired and green eyed girl crossed her mind and she asked her mum if there was a way to turn strange-green-eyed-girls into normal-brown-eyed-girls...

...mommy laughed.

11 years have passed since that fateful day... and life came across with numerous people and even more challenges... situations and decisions that brought out the best and worst in me, i started with the world... and today i have only a handful ...
but the best part of it is that this handful makes my world complete...

there are only a few people who stand by you when times get tougher than you are... who share with you your burdens... who laugh at your silliest jokes... but most importantly, who make you what you are.
to me,
these few people are not just my friends... they comprise the most precious and pure part of 'me'.

They are the ones who have made me look into myself, who have moulded me, who have given me strength and light, who have been my shield, and my way to the world...

thankyou guys, for being who you are.

4 special thankyous for the most special friends i have, to whom i owe the most important parts of me...
the first for my best friend for life, my brother... thankyou bhaiya... you have always been my inspiration.
all my intelligence and wisdom, i owe to you.

thankyou my strange-green-eyed-girl , for always standing by me...your eyes, your hair, and you yourself are the most beautiful in the world...
i am understanding because you made me so.

thankyou chuchoo... for solving all my problems, even the math ones : ) and for believing in me.
i am brave because of you.

lastly... thankyou mommy... for being such a great friend... who has been there for me always. I never let you know i need help, but somehow, how i can never understand, you always have the right thing to say at the right time that makes me stronger and wiser and gives me hope.

Guys, and mom, had it not been for your love, hatred, kindness, support, insight, mistakes and wisdom, i would have always been afraid to face the world that had more people than the number of pencils i owned.

July 8, 2009

~nothing like love~


Sometimes it’s so hard...to say what I’ve got..
There’s never been a reason to speak...
Sometimes it rains... like it will never stop... & i watch it fall down at ease...
It never mattered whether the clouds would clear...
Never mattered where I would be...
this life was all so empty ... & all I had was ... me.
they say no angels come to your life... nobody to hear your pains... & I would smile & tell ‘em I don’t need no-one, I have nothing that’s sad attached to me...
everything was fine... nothing unique.. The same old days... & nights...the sun.. the breeze...
but a miracle happened.. & it happened to me..
you came in my life... & brightened it with your light...
all my tears... my pain that I liked to hide... you took it away with that one smile...
I cursed myself... ran away... but never believed...
how cud it happen? happen to me?
I was a coward... scared of coming out of my shell...
didn’t want no1 to touch me... know me...
but then u entered my shell n pulled me out.. & showed me the real me.........
you touched me... & made me alright..
Cured my wounds... n gave me your light... I got wings now...n i fly ever so high...
soaring the skies like a kite that aint shy...
and its all ‘cuz of a miracle... that happened with me.
I am no longer afraid... alone ... scared...
I am no longer what I don’t want to be...
I’m in love with my life... myself...
all ‘cuz today i have you... n u believe in me...
This isn’t love... this isn’t a story or a dream...
this aint anything like what they think...
This is much more than anyone can ever know... greater than ne imagination's being
it’s a miracle...
you r it... & m so lucky... you happened to me.
I have nothing in this world.. Every other thing is inheritance...
I have nothing within me...’cuz everything i had ... I’ve given it to you...
I am an empty box..
full of your light..
& it feels so incredible to be me..
with no burden.. no weight...
I am so brave... n so light...
I cud fly... n fly so high..
but this aint love... nothing like that...
This is a miracle...n that miracle is YOU

.

Shadow.



It’s always talking hours, isn’t it? You ask what’s wrong... Baby... look into my heart... this is what I've got to say---

I walk an empty road
n sometimes I find these shadows
I look around n I see you there
Somewhere.. Where I cannot say
Why do u always think that you r lonely
It’s been long since we last met
I touched u or when we slept
So close together I cud feel your breath
n feel ok... m alive...
I walk this empty road..
n now when I turn back
you’re there but not beside
Somewhere in the shadows.. I see your face
it’s been long.. n I have a long way
try holding your hand.. it just slips away
this is how it goes.. my journey stays

can’t see u there, somewhere in the shadows u stay
that’s all I had to say

but maybe u were too busy writing your own lines to read what i said
but it’s okay.. no worries
I go thru it always

each time I wish u would listen.. u just mumble n walk away..
away.. that’s where you are
somewhere in the shadows.. i see your face
it’s not that i don’t have a life...
I have 1 I love just enough
but something’s missing as I walk on n on
a piece of me that's gone astray
I walk this empty road...
n I have a long way
each time I wish u were there
can du nothing but wish it were day
it’s been long... n I have nothing but shadows
n somewhere in them..I lost your face