More Couplets

Sunlight never touched its wings, yet it flew with all its might. From the rains, heaviness it brings; success always sought in its flight.

A few moments to mesmerize, but a fewer came to me. The trees need the rains to realize, their purpose and true destiny.

The soul parades high and mighty flew its distance in its sky; the heart shall be the almighty, to decide the years it ponders why.

Present shall never decide a future of love so encouraging; come into the woods and walk by my side, to engage in a dream so engaging.

Couplets

Hence took away this moment asking for realization of my desire, forsaken is the previous minute for this trice to acquire.

All alive can’t be absolute joy, flowers though have to be chosen. In concert shall love arise, or all the bliss is frozen.

It flew in the dark, but in the bright it waited still. Heavens knew this difference, but it had to be from his will.

Just a scribble...

Facing a writer’s block for some time and my medium just won’t allow me to enter freely. Something is stopping him. Well, I shall wait. In the meantime I thought I should address something.

My few readers ask me various questions. The questions are pretty much standard I hear every time. The question is why do I write stories based on horror, paranormal or write the ‘weird’ type of stories? Why are my poems so dark and deep? Firstly, I haven’t even started on my journey into the world of writing – I am still quite amateur – a boy; compared to many legends. I have lots and lots of distance to cover. I have only written a few short stories and almost done with just the first draft of my novel. When I read prolific authors, I get jealous reading the way they write and able to express themselves. So, I haven’t written much yet, or found what genre I actually write in. I may write horror, mystery or a beautiful love story in my journey. It can be anything. To be honest, I still haven’t been able to catch the drift of my own imagination. As for poetry, well, I believe I do not write poetry at all. They just get written. And by the way, if you look at it, there is quite some happy and light stuff in all I have written as well.

Secondly, I think I do not have any standard answer to this question, because usually my answer is ‘I truly don’t know.’ Why does anyone need to assume that I ‘choose’ specifically to write in a particular genre or type? I simply write, as the stories or the poems form in my mind. I think I do not have a choice there. I simply just write it. I am not (and never have been) an avid reader yet (but I am getting there) and I do not write getting motivated or influenced by anything around me or inside me. My life is much less or as normal than most of you folks out there. I am not mentally imbalanced (well, the people around me have never wanted me to visit a psychiatrist or a mental asylum – so I guess you must ask them – and I believe I am pretty sane person with an unbiased conscience). I just write the stories as they form from the seed of an idea, and most of them get written by themselves. In fact, I believe strongly that I am at only a fraction of my capability to expressing myself till date. I just want to get better and better - and then a little more better.

I love language and the rhythm various words can give to the blank page. It gives me the satisfaction of creation. It gives me an insight into my own self (whether I am creative or not). I look back at the things I wrote when I started writing and I sometimes think ‘gosh, how did I think that?’ Or ‘well, I still think like that.’ Fiction is fiction. I suggest readers all across don’t try and judge a writer’s personality by his stories. If they do, well, it is at their own discretion. To me, stories are stories and are meant to entertain and make the reader feel something. It may be good, beautiful, scary, bad or ugly. But whatever I try to say must be (from me) complete without any curtains – due to my constant affiliation with being truthful to others and more to myself in my writings. I write to be my first reader and to write things which I would like to read as a reader – but maybe haven’t come across yet. I know one thing for sure, I write what I write and if people like it, I am lucky.

That’s all there is, really.

Unbind

The breath which is warm, is now also cold,
The flight craves to cover distances now old
Coveted sleep for the perception unrealized;
Pleasant moments to liberate and kill the lies

Firmly are reverberating some cherished notions
From murky images of the land and the oceans
The isolated resolves which formed the past
When sacrifice essential, disappeared so fast

Furious angels are now torching one another
Not all needs to be analyzed or questioned
Resonate with the doubts I now wither further
Never empty, though my intellect repositioned

Confused, though envisage the mind full of precision
All the senseless destinations of fruitless decisions
A façade of a result beyond a realm or bound
None can expect ecstasy, when the self is not found

Butterflies sweetly sometimes around me flutter
But with the truth at hand; imaginations stutter
Sighting the sun, at a distant land beyond the sea
Drowning may be eventual; no fact to disagree

And the hand which holds firm another
Sometimes feels like caressing a feather
Also has the ability to turn, never blind
Ruthlessly shatter the glass, and also unbind

Marinela Reka - welcome as my follower

Dear Unvarying Readers,

I am glad to have Marinela Reka as my 10th follower on my official blog – actually it’s more of a privilege for me, the prodigy she is. She started writing at the age of 6! Born on 23rd April 1996, I doubt we will encounter any writer as skilled as her at such a young age. She writes poetry of all sorts and they are truly engaging. I am deeply impressed. Please visit her on http://marinelareka.com/ 

Thanks Marinela, and I look forward to your valuable comments.

Godspeed

Marcus Hades

First Sonnet - An Engaging Sacrifice

Simply put, the 'sonnet' is a form of poetry containing fourteen lines. The Shakespearean sonnet consists of three quatrains and a couplet--that is, it rhymes abab cdcd efef gg. It is usually written in iambic pentameter and I consider it the opposite of what is a free verse form of poetry; as it is so structured. This is my first attempt at writing a sonnet.


The woods being alone but yet sufficient;
Of passerby’s who numbered very few
Weather’s amend and care isn’t deficient;
To look after are merely the sun, rain and dew
The persistence tantamount to a mountain
But rarely only, it’s affected by weather
The hardest chisel or a fierce cloud fountain,
Didn’t change anything; felt like only a feather
The tourniquets now are my flesh and blood,
Probability swallowed my wounds now so open;
Seeking the kill; shallow dearth of a flower bud;
Riding along with the future sinister and undertaken
Thus when the paths are fine with dreams that entice;
Weeds of arrogance and ignorance; an engaging sacrifice

Cinquain

The Cinquain (pronounced ‘sin-cane’) also known as a quintain or quintet, is a poem or stanza composed of five lines. The best known form of cinquain poetry was created in the early 1900s by a poet named Adelaide Crapsey.

Though the cinquain has many forms and many rules have been formed and confused, I prefer to keep mine as I deem fit and which puts forth the best meaning in five lines (as in any other form of my writing), and that is because I believe meaning is more important than form.

Flowers
Though beautiful
Can be crushed
Through, while with ignorance
Ambushed

Absence
Binding pity
Felt through today
As darkness awaits this city
Fooled by yesterday

Riveting
Some feelings
Of your love
I feel like I am dreaming
Like a dove

Couplets (cluster 3)

Dark and bright; I return to everyone what is rightly due.
Like the clouds that flow everywhere; but pour rain on lands very few.

Though the wrath feeble, it knows; destroying the peace of the hours.
In absence of virtue none will grow; an essence to crush beautiful flowers.

Fire when all went through, ice at the end; and never water.
The soul always knew that it be true, ignorance it must slaughter.

To all my readers - thank you

Dear Followers and Readers,

Just thought I should write a short note to let you all know that I am honored and privileged to have you reading my blog. Many of you don’t follow me, but yet read me. You form the list of my top readers and you shall always have my undying adoration. A writer is hardly anything without his readers.

But I must admit, I would still be a writer but I wouldn’t be what I am without my Dear Reader. Maybe every writer has one dear reader – maybe not. I am just glad I have one.

I look forward to your valuable comments for my post and otherwise. Please feel free to email me on marcus.hades@gmail.com.

Thank you and Godspeed

Marcus Hades

Another layer remains...

In deep slumber I have never remained,
But rarely have I been truly explained;
But I try and find answers to the answers I get
The questions never fully rose, as I try to forget

Darkness sheds itself from under my skin,
But beneath it though another layer remains
While I am faltering and walking the line thin
Separate are my thoughts, but I sustain

As I be the sand in my hourglass of life,
Each day sometimes I fall; then turn, also rise
Failing to resurrect sometimes from the fall of precision
But earnestness is all I wish to see in the hours of decision

Untying my amour from the strings of darkness
My heart is half full of moments of abruptness
Like a bird it flies high, but now it sometimes fears
That it may be shot; not make through its years

A forgotten lore learnt in the early hours of my youth;
Despite agonizing, one must always strike me with the truth.
Because a half-truth is more preposterous than a lie;
The truth however harsh, it is always an ally.

The burden not entirely mine; but all mine as well
To be a man, I believe this is what it really takes
Disturbance within me I always wish a final farewell
But sometimes it stands, waiting at consciousness’s gates

But the skies have never been dark all the time,
Hopes that tomorrow will bring in the much needed sunlight
Chary I am, but I allocate my instincts to rule every time
I shall make it to glory, with all my established insight

More Couplets

• The weather seems confused, and the tree sheds its green leaves instead.
  Covet of the souls may be profuse, yet distance makes love for a moment misread.
  
  
• Depart I shall at an unusual altitude; pithy are my thoughts and resolves.
  Disembarked then shall be populace’s attitudes, when all their myths are dissolved.

Some Couplets

Couplets are one of the most short and beautiful forms of poetry. While I end up writing a few sometimes out of my thoughts, these are ones which I would love to share with you all. All the three are independent couplets in this post.


In love, logic though in attendance, rarely must rule; hours given to reminisce and mesmerize.
Absence – a beautiful dependence, presence – a jewel; the bond must be complete for the soul to realize.

Anxious I am in a story, longing to sleep in arms of a rose;
The thorns of feelings stain the calm glory, only the winged soul flying high knows.

Steeling the senses, seems sane the goal; rains rarely fell when they should.
Shallow renunciation I attempt for the soul, where the flowers grow partly of wood.

The Swear

Winters are harsh; summers harsher in the land
The dove of the soul rarely makes a complete stand
Petrified somewhat of such abandoned sorrow
Until the last breath, each has to see tomorrow

As the stage crawls in its tumultuous right direction,
Situations and events do not at times alter perception
Resonant voices in the woods, skies, seas and caves alike
Several downed wishing the end of sadness strike

Touched by years the soul does, but the mind never learns
Ways in which torches of an unsteady faith burns
Though in vain, brave, the creature always yearns for the sun
From all darkness, in vain it always wants away to run

Long it takes to settle the burning worry of desire
The soul always whispers; fight the water with the fire
Even the edges of a blade start to slowly rust and fade
But the swear is always within, it is never ever made

I stand, I chose

Occasionally it comes so good to be true
Sometimes it comes as a nightmare
What is all, what is everything about?
What have I got to lose, what have I to share?
The raven has knocked my door many a times
Times I have felt where I will not survive
But yet another day breaks and the sun shines
Though not the same as before, some pledges thrive
As I settle the odds with myself in the dark
A tree stands alone in the backyard with a broken bark
Survival is not what all life has been about
Hopes of a never ending assessment is always in doubt
Singing in the rains and the sunshine alike
The soul seeks refuge in the hours that strike
They strike with an unforgotten lore of togetherness
What is finally a lie, in what will it dress?
Freedom my soul feels, not bound by this in what I live,
But while I live in it, loads to give and forgive
I know now it is not my predicament to refuse,
The winds change each day but I stand, I choose

More on Love

Subconsciously it is impossible to refrain yourself from loving, however a strong conscious resolve you may make that you will not fall in love. When love dawns in your heart, it’s inexplicable. It just arrives, and the person you love becomes a part of your thoughts and plans all days and nights. Thoughts and feelings just creep in, however hard you try and resist. If you let this feeling grow, realism just being a byproduct of life, it results in lifelong love. If you resist it, it still grows inside you somewhere, creating its roots inside you – maybe unawares. The feeling of loving indefinitely almost feeling it infinitely, expressing as much as you feel and as long as you can is simply ecstatic; its magical, making your soul beautiful and alive. Though no future is certain, two people loving each other live a lifetime within a life; which may be much higher in meaning and emotions than the sum of the years in your life put together. Love cannot be measured in terms of time. It is just there. Refraining from love is refraining from accepting the very fact that you are a human with a soul and a heart. Without love, we all are just creatures who are born, live and then die.

The First Draft

As the first draft of my novel is nearing completion, I have to get up and running for re-writing and finishing the second draft in a span of two to three months. Though I may not be completely inactive, I may just have a post a week.

In the meantime, please feel free to write to me. I would be glad to answer your emails.

Godspeed,

Marcus Hades

What is Maturity really?

Though this is a topic I can write endlessly on, I choose to summarize this as briefly as I can.

Maturity is something like humility. The moment people think they have it, they self-defeat themselves. – Marcus Hades.

Maturity is not a norm, but has to be judged from both angles – the one viewpoint is of the person who is judging, and the other is of who is the executioner of the judged act, speech or thought process. I believe most mortals have an equal amount of strengths and weaknesses. Where the difference lies is what one is using to make a choice, or respond to an event – the strengths or the weaknesses. Ideally, I believe that a person who uses his/her strengths more, than he allows his/her weaknesses to dominate a resolve or opinion towards shaping his own destiny is a mature individual. As age happens to anyone, the problems and struggles in life increase and the ability to keep the focus in these situations, and not fold, is maturity.

Social interactions are often misjudged by people in anticipating maturity levels in the opposite people, as most people mask appearance, speech and behavior to hide inner strengths/weaknesses (mostly weaknesses) so as to present an uncomplicated version of oneself to the world or to portray oneself as he/she wants others to perceive.

Ways to judge if a person is mature are many, but taken only by the ones who are actually ‘mature’. These include coherent thinking and logical explanation in solving a problem, and the art of reasoning while speaking, discussing or debating. The actually immature ones will simply dismiss the opposite person's thought pattern and not understand what drives the other person. That explains quite a lot about why a generation gap exists amongst some parents and their children, and why are some parents and children so understanding and amicable.

In the mortal flow of thought processes, maturity mostly is taken to be a matter of age and experiences one has gone through. Also, the ‘mature’ person may come to think of anyone as ‘immature’, who thinks differently or does not agree to the mature person’s line of thought. Anyone who agrees to ones thought pattern is presumed as ‘mature’. I haven’t come across anyone who would say, “Hey, you think just like me. How immature we are!”

Maturity according to me is not a matter of age, but a matter of how we choose to develop our thoughts and responses flowing through life. It depends on responses and experiences which in turn are based on our value and belief systems. It is again not necessary that the responses may be constantly ‘mature’ throughout one’s life. I believe the toughest challenge is in finding the balance between the IQ and the EQ (emotional quotient) and responding in a manner which is the most feasible or reasonable (not necessarily only practically).

Maturity is not to be judged by external introspection only. It takes months or sometimes years to gauge if a person is more bent on the mature or immature side. Most importantly, the levels of interaction to gauge whether a person is mature or not, have to be personal as well. A newly found friend, a distant relative or a friendly co-worker for example can never get onto those levels. Only a determination of one's entire belief and value system (and actions based on them) can be a determinant in gauging whether a person is mature or not.

Maturity is not something which has to be persistent, but solely dependent on a set of actions and that too with a particular set of people, in a particular situation. Eg. A person may be immature in behavior when it comes to friends, acquaintances or coworkers but may be a very mature individual with family and vice-versa. Also, a person may be mature when it comes to making life’s tough decisions and always find the best possible way out of an adversity, but may be confused in small everyday decision making and may be clumsy in them. A person may also portray a very immature kind of behavioral pattern to whoever he/she interacts with, as a choice, but must be a mature person in his/her thought processes.

A few words said; I believe that a person may not be able to take 'mature' decisions at all junctures in life – because we all lose focus at different points in life when choices have to be made. Such choices are often hard. The ones who make such hard choices, who know when to take a calculated risk, who are empathetic, who think for themselves and are not influenced entirely by society, who are willing to face adversities in the pursuit of something worthy and be willing to sacrifice themselves for the ones they love or for the greater good, are mature according to me. Which situations govern thoughts at which time in life, are solely left to the person executing such thought or action.

Celebrate

Sweetly wierd and charmingly strange,
nowadays, you're all that I wish in my range
Where I can see you, touch you, speak to you
None of the lies, but all that is true
 
The moonlight is now soothing,
it is complete of your thoughts alluring
I want to feel this moonlight each night
I want you with me now, with you is my delight

I cannot contemplate what this is exactly
But I wish to analyze this more than justly
In these nights as I try and understand these ties,
I never fail to see you now in the fireflies

If a greater alliance holds our future, I am not sure,
feelings which are pure, seperation not to endure
Because when we are situate in one place,
I just cannot help myself from feeling the solace.

I shall always be there with you and nothing is barred,
Until the sea rises, or till the earth is charred
Not much I believe should be left to contemplate,
Each day we can, we shall this sentiment celebrate

My Sunrise

As I see my path getting narrow,
you enter in my heart forever
Only you within; yesterday, today and tomorrow
Deep inside I can let go of you never

I do not hurt now that we are away,
because you are always within me
I will always love you anyway;
I wonder how you cannot believe

I set you free now to your course
I’ll always love you through the years
Our next life will be our source,
of everlasting love without any tears

How can I give up loving you?
Every moment I breathe your name
I realize now my love is only true;
You are my inextinguishable flame

All I do now is wait for my sweet demise
With each passing second, closer is my sunrise
Days and nights I now wait, in a new life
When together we shall be man and wife

The Flood

Paper can be cut; mishandled it can also draw blood
Facts upon which I have never slumbered
Each answer that I found, the question backfired
Taking all within me, I now just allow it to flood

Candles lit when freezing rains pour from above;
Which drops will make their flame extinguish?
Friends we all are of our own anguish,
Foes on a barren land of a guilty but fruitful love

As the rain falls on the snow settled on the roof
Some of it melts, while some drops turn solid
It all depended on reciprocation of a silent proof
The crimson creature runs but the trees of faith remain stolid

The grinning emptiness of life always gave a stare
Some will within me hence comes ruptured
To win battles though my strength is rare
Floating desires falling, I wish to become structured

My snow-white love; my capacious passion,
Unaware absence which not much the mind can endure
Everything in the end has to be excused by being rational,
Shammed, heightened and biased; but one feels secure

Where reasons persisted, my moon eclipsed all nights
Subtle inferences on an unknown common sense halt
Immoral expectations it may seem, take such flights
Becoming less than sober; my mind forces a deterring exalt

Ashamed of mind’s shelters; dim and blistered
I shall destroy every flower when it is a bud
Each answer that I found, the question backfired
Taking all within me, I now just allow it to flood

The Purpose

Stop for a while,
hold those emotions
Learn from them, make it worthwhile
Erase from the mind all wrong notions
Become a perfect example
of someone who doesn’t break
Trials in store are ample
Which are worthy to take?
Ask yourself important questions,
but don’t dwell too long.
Time is swift; can’t sleep on contradictions;
Decide which land you belong
Freeze the unnecessary; unbury the promises;
Look for the light which shines with a purpose,
Hear the things which the heart advises
But the spirit to be allowed to impose

Iambic Pentameter

Iambic Pentameter is a way of writing poems and sentences in a particular meter with stressed and unstressed syllables. Writing a poem or a sentence this way creates a natural rhythm and makes the text more pleasurable to read and memorise. For example.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know (from Macbeth) - William Shakespeare

William used to write in Iambic Pentameter and so did quite some other poets (the reason which I believe, made them legends and their poetry, so rhythmic and classy). As per what I know now, it is very tough to write in Iambic Pentameter as they almost have fixed number of words and fixed number of stressed and unstressed syllables. Hence only a rare few poets or writers were able to write like that, and largely this method is untapped even by most prolific writers and poets.

I do not know how much time in weeks or months or years it is going to take me to learn this, but I have resolved to learn it. Why? I want my poems and sentences to sound better and have the satisfaction of learning something which only a few writers know and is difficult. Simple!

A Grander Strife

When life surpassed I didn’t know what to see,
When I was sane, I chose who to be
Now I believe my prized stillness is restored,
In this vacant and blissful state, I only imagined and adored
Whatever the end, I do not yet know,
I am in nothingness, and the love within grows
Where dearth doesn’t matter and unfailing she touches my heart,
My soul detached from me, it will never let her depart
Waking and dying on myself my core is still,
Countless formed aspirations as my consciousness kills
The affection is outlandish, unfelt and felt
The journey feels extended, and years are to be dealt
From future and mysteries told and untold,
My destiny is what I try and now unfold
Towards a greater cause and a grander strife,
I know this is what will be my life
Yet sacrifice it is not to me, truth is to accumulate
And my soul will always this joy celebrate

Destiny?

I received a comment on my post on Goals for the Soul. Though not related to the post, I choose to answer this comment as it came like a direct question to me. Here it goes -

What is destiny? What is fate?

1. When you don’t try anything and you get (something/everything/anything) (good/bad) is destiny? (Since you don’t have your contribution in trying here).

2. When you try (something/anything/everything) and you get (something/everything/anything) (good /bad) is not destiny? (Since you have your contribution here).

3. When you try (something/anything/everything) and you get (something/everything/anything) (good /bad) is destiny? (Since destiny made you try for it and you were to come across it anyways).

Last and the least perceived option

4. When you don’t try anything and you get (something/everything/anything) (good /bad) is not destiny? (Since you have your contribution in not trying here).

Is there any standard/ objective/non subjective/non relative/constant answer to this?

My response hereunder:

Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for: it is a thing to be achieved. - William Jennings Bryant

Destiny is simply a combination of two things. Firstly, a sum of choices and remainders. Secondly, a sum of events, the response to them and its remainders. – Marcus Hades

The above were the shortest statements I could find in explaining your questions. Apologies, but I guess there is no standard answer to what Destiny or Fate is (as per what I think). It is an idea, and mostly a whim, as per me.

Firstly, if any good is coming anyone’s way, and if they think it is ‘good’ based on the calculations, belief and value systems – then I don’t believe the good will ever be rejected or pondered upon. If they do, I strongly think they fear paying a price for it (as everything good also comes with a price). I am unlearnt yet of any more reasons. Also, I have never seen a mortal ponder over why their life is great or why they are blessed with whatever good is in their life. If you come across one – please let me know.

This is a debate which even famed philosophers, so called ‘spiritualists’ (who claim they are a ‘know- all-to-life’s-questions’) haven’t been able to clearly explain (though I haven’t read any of them in detail – because whatever I read, disgusted me). They confuse people by plugging more weird definitions of karma and reincarnation to Destiny. Books have been written on this, and people still are in a mystery as to what Destiny is. I always choose not to waste my energies in thinking what is destiny, and what it isn’t, because I have always tried my best to reason and respond with a battle when life has thrown something that is bad and seems difficult, and I still want to achieve it. If I had to explain this from my thought process, it would take me weeks to write it since this particular discussion for me is very exhaustive – but not complex.

You will hear what destiny is from so many sources; and I bet the answers will be either biased or based on some principle based on ‘spirituality’ which are ‘good-to-hear; hard-to-follow’ types. I admit I haven’t read any of them – because I choose to have my own unbiased answers (don’t have the time to read all the world’s views on things which I follow my own belief system – and I choose to understand those elements of thought myself and write what I understand). Hence, I believe the answer to your question cannot be non-subjective or non-relative. Well, I am not a philosopher, neither a guru. I only think in complexities for things which are meant to be thought that way. For me, destiny is a very simple idea with an outcome based on how people respond. So I will try and be as simple as I can what “I” think destiny is. Again, this response may not satisfy you. But these are just my thoughts -

Firstly, you are right in your points above. Events happen. They happen with and without our will or action.

I cannot say that any one of these four points can be picked and said ‘this is destiny’, because all are a possibility. Points 2 and 3 are similar and I did not understand the difference. What is the difference between you contributing towards something and destiny ‘making you’ contribute? Do you assume that these are different? In my view it’s simple. You try and you either get something or don’t get it. You either think for yourself or you don’t (Covering this in a bit of detail later).

According to me there is no fixed percentage of what events we can control and what we cannot, but everything done to us is not complete in itself – except natural, diseased and accidental death. A lot depends on how one responds or reacts to what is done by any external force, and only then can it be complete. The important thing is the response; non-response is also a kind of response. Meaning, when you simply choose to sit there and do nothing. I believe that events flowing after non-responsiveness are considered as destiny by most people. The response may not upturn the event completely, but may change it – and so, further life changes. Tiny micro decisions can lead onto macro events. Decisions which seem trivial may have large effects on how ones future shapes.

Isn’t it true? Isn’t it a permutation and combination of events, which may be small events in themselves, and also may lead on to a larger event? I look back on my life and see how my tiny decisions are having major impacts in my life right now. And how can we only talk about ‘our’ contribution? On many decisions isn’t Destiny entwined with another’s decision making? For example: love, marriage, having children, starting a partnership venture, living with parents… countless examples.

The thought - your sole action point: The decisions for which the responses are solitary, are the ones for which the effects flow depending on your action/inaction. It is usually a ‘you against you’ or ‘you for you’ scenario. If you are depressed, you can get help or choose to self cure (by anything). If you lose, you can choose to never give up. You can choose to persist when things are hard. You can choose to be indifferent, emotional, choose to quit or choose to do anything. (I have covered this in Future, Choice and Ignorance and The Price – so I won’t describe it in detail here). Skeptics will say that thought processes automatically lead you onto what your Destiny is meant to be, but I don’t believe that. There is a difference in having a strong or a weak mind or particular thought processes pertaining to one or more area’s in life – and that influences your decisions. No rocket science there for me on this point... (Is this what point 3 was about?)

Examples of people who changed their lives (destiny) despite all odds. Their response to their events are a great example:

1. A boy who was unable to speak until he was four-years-old. He spoke haltingly until 9 years of age. He was strongly recommended to drop out of school; and did at the age of 15. His teachers told him he would never be able to even lead a normal life.
This boy could choose to not do anything and land up being a clerk or wherever ‘Destiny’ took him. But he is Albert Einstein.

2. A boy who was cut out from his school basketball team. He could choose to quit and take up a job. He is Michael Jordon.

3. A man who wrote a novel and was rejected 753 times. He could choose to quit. He became the novelist who wrote 564 books. He is John Creasy.

4. A boy who was fired by the editor of a newspaper because according to the editor, the boy had "no good ideas". He is Walt Disney.

5. Before learning what language meant, a high fever caused her to become deaf and blind. No longer could she see nor hear. She could choose to give in to this handicap and merely survive. She is Helen Keller.

If this is a whim or ‘my idea’ about destiny, I am glad it is. At least I am not the kind of person who blames ALL the external factors for the way my life is. I know one thing is that when something happens to me, there is a response pending from my end – and I will try to put my best response with the most sane thought possible – in order to shape my Destiny. I don’t care what else the skeptics say… as it is, all they can do is say.

Leaving you with one quote, the application of which changed my life to quite some extent. Godspeed.

One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar. – Helen Keller

Goals for the Soul

Most nights while I am sleepless until the atmosphere around me is dead silent, I wonder what drives me. Why don’t I accept fate the way it so called is written for me, and just move on. Why don’t I just accept defeat to ‘destiny’, put all the blame on it and just ‘try’ and be satisfied with what I have. Blaming destiny is an excuse for not trying hard enough – and I am not someone who makes excuses. I have reasons for my actions. I do not quit; despite I am bleeding from my heels. If I do quit, there is a reason – but never an excuse. Most people are confused with this idea of difference between a reason and an excuse – and I shall clarify it in another post if I feel I got the words.

The pursuit of money, material comfort, a family life and a sense of security of having a fulfilling life is a part of everyone  – and I am no exception to this, but since adolescence I simply just wonder – is this all there is to life? And I am not 'spiritual'... I believe that is total BS, a lie told by people to themselves that they are connected to their inner self, or God or whatever they 'think' they are connected to. If they really were required to walk their mile of the spirituality BS they study or preach or follow, they would simply just drown their values... fickle and funny. What they need to learn is to first connect with themselves... anyways... some other time on this.

What I think is that people mostly do not understand that while all these things are to achieve, there are higher things to do and achieve for the soul – which are ignored while all about the body and brain is taken care of – or attempted to be taken care of. Education is for the brain so we can be a creature of society, and materialism is for the body – no rocket science there. While the brain and the body need to be cared for, the soul is something which is completely ignored. I guess I am born in a medium was mostly slow in learning in adolescence is because it chose to see both the sides of the world – and hence it enables me to distinguish between emotional intelligence and the highly rated intelligence quotient.

These both require being in a balance which cannot be measured – but a balance has to be there. The balance is not a slave to time or quantity, but merely excellence and morality. Maybe that is what explains why my so called ‘prophecies’ have never been accurate. I always try and fight it. Maybe I could have a simpler life if I merely followed what was ordered and was flowing into my life. But I had a big fat NO for everything which seemed ludicrous to me. Hence my post on Future, Choice and Ignorance…

Why is my being so stuck to gaining something which is not sought after in this world anymore? Everything seems so fake and immaterial, that by pursuing those normal goals and dreams may make me ‘institutionalized’ into thinking like others. I have witnessed how others think, and I have thought that way in the past, and it doesn’t please me. And most of the time they aren’t even wrong (being them – what they are), because there are hardly any choices for them – or so it seems – or how they make them to be.

I seek to get out of this situation soon. I soon seek to gain insight into clarifying within me what is trivial and what I can avoid, because while all seems important, it need not necessarily be. Calculations, interpretations, money, security and aiming into so called material goals are not what I would term as the only ‘growth’ I am interested in. There is something more, something higher – something which my EQ (emotional quotient) itches to find out.

The biggest question I have already an answer to. Who am I?
I know who I am. I am an idea and seek to better the soul. I am simply in a human form, but being in here and in this so called civilized platform built upon the premise of materialism and intellectualization – I think even I am getting more out of touch of who I really am amongst others and what is the actual reason of my existence. I trust no one has a definite answer to that question and our the ‘valid’ reasons may crop out of where we are born, in which family we are, how we are raised, how we choose to raise ourselves (external to parental and other influence) and what we perceive and learn from this world – and most importantly, what do we think life is all about. Well, doesn’t seem all so ‘valid’ for me. Mostly I think everything is not seen as it is meant to be seen. There are some façade – drawn mostly by us or by those who we think we should listen to – parents, teachers, ‘idols’ and the like. We do not truly think for ourselves, and do not base anything on our instincts or values. Ha! We sometimes do not even base our values on what we ‘should’ think – and base it on silly sources which seem reliable. Hence, the listening is more towards the mind than towards the heart. There is definitely a curtain of reason to rob us of our common sense – and I also have been a victim of it, several times. But as soon as I realized it, it awoke me to another level. Perhaps that’s the reason I hate moral aridity.

Looking into the dark skies I know I think differently than others – few of the people choosing to see me the way I am, and most of them choosing to see me as per what they want to see me as. I do not claim I have an answer to what life is, or should be – but I know I have begun my journey into understanding it. A journey has been started into realization of my true purpose. I am unsure as to how much time will it take, or how many more stupid experiences will I have to undergo before I can totally shut myself from what is unnecessary for the soul. And ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls - love is very important for the soul.

Some thought scribbling...

Each time you wish to go towards happiness, there may be tougher things to deal. But never let your emotions die and doubt your ableness, for emotions from the heart make your dreams come real.

The sad truth is that most people get emotionally attached to something or someone, but are not always attached to that emotion.

It all depends on how we look at things, and not how they are in themselves. - Carl Jung.
If you are not looking at things the way they are, you are just a creature of imagination and wishes, and less of deeds. - Marcus Hades

If you judge people you have no time to love them. - Mother Teresa;
If you truly love someone, you will rarely find the time to judge them. - Marcus Hades

Loving without expression and expectation is tough. It is like a piercing, causing pain initially. But once it’s settled, its ornament in the soul is truly blissful.

More than the deed done wrong what really angers me is the justification of the wrong-doer that what they have done is right.

My heart I have lost, and nothing for me to gain; though your absence, I find pleasure inside this pain. Pleasurable it may be to not love and refrain; also it may be sane; but I cannot seem to stop loving you and no feelings from this madness I abstain. I’m mad about you – you’re my sunshine and my rain.

Discuss, but do not argue with me, for it shall be in vain; please save yourself some agony and pain. I answer solely to responses, and not to reactions and stupid correspondence.

Everything is subjective and relative but subjectivity and relativity is not everything.

My sunshine and rain

My heart I have lost and nothing for me to gain;
though your dearth, I find pleasure inside this pain.
Pleasurable it may be to not love and refrain; also it may be sane;
but I cannot seem to stop loving you and no feelings from this madness I abstain.
I’m mad about you – you’re my sunshine and my rain.

Till death and across

He kisses her on the cheek and she returns it; a lifesaver,
Her love was all he has which mattered, bliss was the flavor
On nights when he keeps writing, and looking at her asleep;
As he is close to her, feels her breathe, his heart always rejoices and skips a beat
He buys for her lavender colored dresses, and always adjusts her tresses;
When she speaks, he looks at her, and his fate he always blesses
When he sits close to her, she looks deep in his eyes, and says while shying,
“I am yours for all moments,” and then he kisses her lips, dying on them and resurrecting
She walks with him but clumsily and always trips while walking once or twice,
He lovably screams at her, “Take care of yourself. Can’t you follow any advice?”
She smiles, which makes him calm – holds his hand, the wide road they cross,
He just looks at her and he knows, they are together till death and more across
When alone, his phone rings; but when he hears no one to him is speaking
He is now aware that each day, all of this, he is only imagining or dreaming

I look at just one

The skies and my heart are so bright and dark and infinite,
Though only when one star is close, my world is bright;
My amour has all sanity, principles and logics outdone;
While the other stars look at me and more, I look at just one.

Another facet of love

I know a person who loves without expecting, knowing the truth that he must depart with the one he loves, for ‘n’ reasons, after some time. He is sending his love, not knowing even whether the one he loves is receiving it. He believes and knows that his love will always be in his heart, and he will not be able to express himself always like he is able to now, again, for 'n' reasons.

Usually I have seen people only love the person who loves them back, or who expect that by loving another, the love will also arise in the other’s heart – someday, being hopeful about it. (I am ruling out the exception of love for the country which a revolutionary has, or a mother’s love for her child here or anything similar – they are truly… hmm… non comparable to anything in this world).

Truly, love does not depend only on institutions like marriage. It is something deeper. People may think marriage is the destination to sanctify love (that’s society’s sad misconception, because of which many a relationships which could flourish beautifully, die immaturely). But I think love does not need any sanctity. It is sacred in any form. Marriage is fine, and I really hope that all people who fall in love finally reach this destination and fulfill it until death. But love doesn’t always need to expect and can also rise in one’s heart and mind, no matter what is the outcome, or however dark or bright things appear on the outside.

Would love to write more on this... perhaps another day. For now, I am just moved by a volcano of amour - and its raining...

And yeah. Two words for Sigmund Freud and Carl Gustav Jung – analyze this...

Volcano of Adore

Unexplainable was the torsion, which led to the demise of my wishes
My soul nonetheless remains with yours in fusion
it loves more with absence’s blemishes

Sweet ruthlessness is in such a feeble feeling;
should I break the dam of this restriction?
My sentiments are just inside me overflowing
Burning within me are some sweet contradictions

I just hope I don’t let this volcano of adore on you erupt
Unawares since I want you to be, of what each moment I undergo
Holding onto my flooded amour, its natural flow will disrupt
Sanity is something the mind rejects and my thinking is slow.

The volcano has different effects where the magma flows;
when poured on land it destroys, but in sea it creates new
What is this engaging compel I am yet to understand;
my eyes on the sky despite feet in fate’s quicksand
The twine to pull me to my defined tomorrow will drop someday,
and then only glory will have its say; and will be grand

Final nails on a first draft

Dear Unvarying Readers,

Listening to myself and my number one reader, I have decided to finally finish off the first draft of my novel within the next 2-3 weeks maximum. I have been lingering with it since long and I just hope getting back wont be too tough. I got 4-7 chapters remaining (approx 15-20%) - and lot of work post that as well (the second draft should take 2 months). But the finishing the first draft is truly going to be an accomplishment.

I will start posting regularly post finishing the first draft. Hence, I may be pretty inactive here for the next couple of weeks and leave this space in your custody for your reading.

Sad for me - as I was going on and on, on a pleasant grotesque journey of writing poetry - and many other thoughts, but I guess I can continue later. Will miss writing in here. Though I shall be awaiting your comments and emails and will respond as soon as possible.

Have a great time. And until then - Khairete (means "take care or be well" in Greek)

- Marcus Hades

Land and the ocean

How others thought I could never think
my thoughts being far from civilization’s sanity brink;
Like others felt I could rarely feel
My joys far away from culture’s appeal

The sun was always only half seen,
and dried the mornings summer dew
By ways of others, thrilled I have few times been,
since adolescence I slept through nights very few

Bewildered and rather poignant was my atmosphere;
the inquiry how to handle; my conscious was not sincere
Though in trance like state of the inevitable I sought refuge
Bizarre, shaky was my resolve; drown I would in its deluge

The shore of the sea kept restricted cool sand
as I stood in them, my soul finally begun to stand
I wonder why when the waters hit my feet,
I looked at the ocean, the sheltered land may have felt defeat

For long the land struggled, for me to be stable
But now I knew it was the ocean I would always resemble
The land burned from mores at the surface and ashes at the conscious core;
But the waters ran deep, alone, a cool, silent and mysterious store

Pearls of our Amour

The stars seem far away
But mine is even more further afar
as I look in the skies night and day
I sing to you, can you hear as I play the guitar?
I wish my room walls could talk,
If they could, they would tell you
Now silence they only stalk
They miss me talking all nights to you
The candy color I see in the morning skies,
I see our footsteps on the beach
I will write a love story that never dies,
I can, for in my heart, you’re not far to reach
I will miss you in the winters
And I will miss you in the rains
Choosing to find so many answers,
I choose to only cherish us, forget the pains
I wouldn’t ask for anything more now
I don’t want to wipe these tears,
The tears are only pearls of our amour, and I know
I am closer to you than it appears

Sensitivity

I got on track writing this in view of replying to an email I received from one of my regular readers. She did not understand the true meaning of my poetry “Pathways of Ice and Fire”. Well for starters, I think people don’t read poetry, but poetry reads itself to people. But, since this is also a thought much worth musing over, I thought I should write on this for everyone. So here it is Syrena – please read this and maybe you can identify with what the poetry is somewhat about - and of course give me your views which you of course should know I am much open to receive.

General consensus: People who are sensitive are weak. People who are insensitive are strong.

Both these ideas, in my view, are mostly confused. According to me, Strength and sensitivity are two different elements of the persona. Let me try and explain what I mean. 

Sensitivity

Being sensitive is feeling each emotion completely – the way it is conceived by the mind. It is not covering up your feelings with intellectualization, materialism, diverting your mind and/or ‘trying to think practically’. Being sensitive is totally based on emotions. Emotions are totally based on thought patterns – which are developed over a period of years. For example, a terrorist or a murderer may be less or non- sensitive when he sees a person suffer than a person who is a self made man living a respectable life.

Sensitive people are often termed as weak because they express their emotions through actions and/or words. They do not contain their thoughts only within, and the subconscious is also free. The mind is disturbed if emotions do not find a medium to flow; or if they are withheld by design. Being sensitive is passion. Being sensitive is loving. Being sensitive is feeling hurt when you are hurt. Feeling the love at all times. Crying when you are hurt, or missing someone. Being sensitive is also understanding others hurt and in one word to be 'empathetic' towards others pain and suffering; and joy for that matter. Sensitive people do not feel envy. Sensitiveness is developing the quality of doing unto others what you would like to be done to yourself. Sensitivness is not turning bitter; but better.

Being insensitive on the other hand is covering up your true emotions through any means, of which only the subconscious is aware of. The covering up may work for any period of time which is uncertain. But sometimes it may break. That explains the concept of emotional outbursts when people cannot contain their insensitivity towards their own emotions any further by any means.

Strength

Strength is the ability to endure pain, the ability of hanging on when times are tough, maintaining a positive attitude, knowing when to contract and expand your expressions, having faith. Strength is smile. Strength is the ability to take the pain for the ones you love. Strength is to not let yourself turn bad, because that is what you have faced or seen. Strength is forgiveness. Strength is the ability to seek to win, though you have lost. Strength is to love even when you are not getting reciprocated. Strength is to admit your faults and the ability to look into your own mirror – and rectifying your flaws. Strength is patience. Strength is the ability to apologize. Strength is to be empathetic. Strength is to not betray. Strength is sacrifice. Strength is commitment. Strength is fighting for what is right. Strength is so many things – which are like a thermostat for your attitude, values and beliefs. Strength is shedding off attitude and ego for the one you love. Strength is providing support and care to the ones who need it, at times when you are actually down and out, need some support and are in your own mess.
People who are sensitive and strong are the people I believe who attain ultimate happiness; the true happiness. People who are insensitive rarely have the capacity to be strong. So in a way being sensitive provides us the ability to be strong; but developing strength is of course a little more thougher than being sensitive.

Now this is something which really bakes my noodle. Most people are sensitive to themselves whilst being insensitive to others. There are also a few who are insensitive to themselves but sensitive to others. The rare kinds are who are sensitive to themselves as well as others; and the ones who are insensitive to themselves and anybody else. I think I can write a book on this paragraph (maybe someday…)

Mortals who are only sensitive to themselves constantly blame others and fail to see what is wrong with them. Such people will not realize that they are insensitive to others, because within them, the element of sensitivity exists; but the truth is – it only exists for them. They have the factor of self preservation so high in them, that they can hurt anyone – sometimes without knowing it. At the same time, they are satisfied that they are ‘balanced’ or ‘practical’.

Most people prefer to not be sensitive, and alter their emotions; because being sensitive is also painful. But then, they miss on the higher meaning of life – love, clear thinking - and ecstasy due to these. They may also end up hurting others (and sometimes may not even realize this) and make themselves victims of vengeance – or worse, bitter self hate and realization.

The people who are strong and sensitive have a balance of not only understanding themselves and others, but also the ability to see things the way they are – finding the best possible solutions. They are in control of their ‘hearts’ and their ‘minds’ and know when to listen to them. They can think with a 360 degree view and make the best decisions. They have foresight and vision. They are the ones I believe who actually ‘live a life’.

Be sensitive and be strong. I think that’s a good way to go. Good way to live, as well as a good way to die.

More thoughts

Love is all as complex as mathematics; but solvable, only if we resolve one equation at a time.

Reciprocal love is mighty. Love which doesn’t depend on reciprocation is mightier.
 
Never betray anyone in love because of your indecisiveness, selfishness, fear, or for a reason only which you find justifiable. For the mind of the betrayed may forgive, but the cries of the heart are sent in the universe and its equality disembarks at the most apt hour, and incapable of redemption even with time.
 
Time may mend a wound inflicted with reason; but guilty conscience is a sly seraph. For mostly, when it attacks its victims at a time which is the most unexpected and volatile. Its wound cannot feel time, hence cannot be mended.

From my experience, most women are most likely to commit to a man who actually just wants to get into their pants, rather than the one who is honorable. A sense of humor is hugely hyped as a criterion for a man. Somehow the masks of men are more appealing and believable to women, and they rarely give time to see what the man is actually made of – what his values and belief are.
Ghastly men do not obviously care about a woman’s mask, they know their own is worse; the honorable ones are simply ignorant of them, because they believe what they see.

Cries of the Heart

Reflections in your mirrors are brighter than ones in my lake;
Mirrors of yours are far from profundity;
Your belief that you contain your conscience, is only yours to take
How cold can thou be, is all my present admirability
Secrets, lies and forged promises have been in my pursuit ever since I loved,
Strangling the good soul is the attempt; almost in vain, and gloved,
The scars of your vacillation are now my secret scepter;
Enjoy your rashness while it lasts; the future of thou conscience-in-sin you cannot alter
When the heart cries and the thought that bleeds from your treachery,
Justice prevails; nor God, nor fate, nor luck will ever maneuver
Harsh lesions inflicted and opened unendingly; and lessons dawned of repentance
Stung by broken arrows drawn from my heart, understanding commitment’s caliber
Invisible agonizing blood shall be bled of which I wish no cognizance,
Even in this view of events, while you treaded me down in these dungeons,
Entreaty is to my ghost of righteousness; and to my devil of vengeance;
That they do not crash the last door of my fortitude and exoneration
I suffer to not be blessed with your insignificant and irrational contemplation of truth;
I wish that you go through this voyage; unnoticed; with impunity
As evidenced, many mortals dodge their chastisement in tribunals, for crimes in devil’s unity;
But never seen anyone surpass the justice made; appealed only by the cries of the heart.

The Price

There is a price to pay for everything – just as one pays for any luxuries or materiality. The question is not what price; that no one can determine initially, but whether there exists a commitment to pay the price – no matter what it may be.

A commitment cannot be altered to suit ones whims – going off and on to what is suitable to oneself. A commitment should be a commitment to do what is required, no matter what. It is not selfish, does not hurt anyone and does conquer fear. It gives time, is patient and is willing to work out small details. It does not account past failures or frustrations. Moreover, it never justifies the unjustifiable. And what is unjustifiable is never subjective and never depends on a viewpoint. Though clichéd – but true – when you want a diamond, you have to go through a load of crap. When you wish to soar the skies, you have to get rid of your vertigo. If you wish to conquer the peak of a mountain, you have to let go of all your fears and be willing to take the pain in your heels and bear the cold.

Anyone who wants everything good (in love, life, profession or a hobby) without paying the price for it, in my view, is a bandit. The one who backs off from a commitment, when the price seems high – or something which is not in the capacity of the purported payer, is a flip-flopping rabbit. This rule is universal – and no one is – and can make himself/herself an exception to it.
It is strange how many people cannot understand how to take it when life throws something good at them and just reject them. And all this is because all it would take is understanding, a little working on, a little time and persistence. People don’t have the patience, virtues or the will to stand at all odds. It seems to me that people don’t just appreciate beautiful journeys like love (until it only satisfies their selfish needs, attitude, ego, etc), and take it all for granted.

Love is a good example for this. Because love depends on two people’s interaction with each other’s persona’s. Attitude, ego, self-respect and individualism are all good things and are to be controlled and worn on to the persona as ornaments, and not objects of destruction. The problem is, people who bring in these dim-witted feelings in between love, and break a commitment, do not only hurt themselves (and sometimes – don’t hurt themselves at all), but hurt the one they claimed they love (at one point of time) as well. They may or may not realize that how the opposite person may take this kind of behavioral pattern, and whether the person will ever be able to deal with this hurt. The person who has broken a commitment will never understand what virtues are unless they receive the same treatment. That’s so damn easy right – to learn from things when they boomerang right back in your life – when your life becomes hellish because of a broken commitment.

I have come across people who in a relationship promise the skies, but when they find it difficult or are done with their "trial-and-error" mode, deny the very existence of such a promise or commitment; and break it, and the person who has the face the consequences of this indecisiveness. They play the stupid blame game and infact injure the person who is actually willing to stand against all odds.

These people will never realize that they are the ones who are the contributors in making the world a worse place to live in. Creating bitterness, instability, insecurity with every word, action or feeling which is against any positiveness – and they live in a state of flux, ignorance and falsely created happiness (which crops from materialism or intellectualization). How fucking hypocritical and boring…

Smirnoff

Didn't find my brand of Vodka (Finlandia) so had to settle with Smirnoff. Though advised not to drink for months in a row (doctors told me I could die :)), I took this risk.
Well, had to. Too many deafening thoughts pounding the mind since days - on and on. Had to indulge in this - so what if the relief is temporary. Everything is temporary; but somethings need to permanent for this lifetime - until death do us apart 'types'.

And the mind too needs a break to function effectively, doesnt it?  I hope I sleep soundly today. Most of the times it was like in the poetry 'The Raven' - While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

And Prisha, I miss you a lot - and always will.

10.04.10

Exactly on this date, 2 months back, the number 462 became important for me. It was not mere co-incidence I believe. The mathematics of chance is simply so rhythmic. The body and mind can be fragile, but no one can take away the feelings from the heart - no one, and nothing.

4+6+2 = 10.02.10

Simply magical.

An attempt to write a humorous love poem

Dear Unvarying Reader,

Since the time my Dear Reader has been inspiring me to change my writing style, I thought I should try a humour-love poem. And I have used simple words (You cannot imagine how difficult this is for me). I admit I may have sucked at this one, but well, its my first time. (Ahem, a little nervous here). So, here it goes -

Dear Reader - I didn't name the poem and I want you to suggest a name. Waiting perpetually -

I tripped walking on my way today and almost hit a car,
And the man who was driving said, “Are you blind, boy?”
I laughed, what would I say, I was walking thinking of my star,
I would may been hit, but I would still be in joy
My star is no one but you, and I can’t take you of my mind,
My soul now with you has been entwined,
I reached home and started cooking, again you in my every thought,
My kitchen almost caught fire; to turn off the flame I entirely forgot
As I went to gather water to extinguish the flame in a rush,
I slipped on an oil slick floor, as I thought of our kiss, and couldn’t help but blush
I put out the flame in the kitchen, but I was all smiles,
Even if you can’t walk the aisle with me, you will be in my heart all the miles,
I don’t want anything from you except for you to be happy,
Your thoughts are enough for me, to keep me hip and zappy;
I think of all that I could do for you, if you and I were together
I would take care of you all the time, as I find you delicate as a feather
I would pick you up in my arms, and take you around the house like a child,
I would wear my hair, specs and clothes, any way you styled,
I would treat you with the best of candy floss, and along with a kiss,
I would love you so much, nothing would you ever miss,
I would never get tired of writing for you, many a love sonnets,
I would buy you the best of the bracelets and anklets; would quit cigarettes :)
Here are only some of the things, in words so few
Though you have no clue, I am the grass and you are my dew,
Though we can’t be together; I shall always be in my own planet, a world of you
Thinking about the endless things I wish I could do for you

Some more thoughts...

Knowing the truth is like climbing a mountain in an effort to reach the peak. The skies, snow, greens and birds – and finally the peak, will always enthrall you; but you have to be prepared for bad weather, creatures, thorns and stones which hurt.

The answers found by writing poetry occasionally repair the lesion wreaked by reason; rarely heal ones which are wreaked by incongruence.

Poetry is a mostly an intertwined result of dancing with the shadows of yesterday, the darkness of the present and the expectant brilliance of tomorrow.

You rarely need to be good with words in order to carve poetry; just need to be superior at feeling emotions completely.

The heart can keep loving

Another revelation is that love is also love which only ignites one way. It does not seek any pleasure and it is etched within. It is not selfish because it does not want. It simply is there, like truth. It does not change. It is dormant and within. Though the human mind can be feeble, be ignorant and feel many a baseless things about the person it loves, the heart can keep loving at the same time. Of course, I do not know how many mortals are aware of this beautiful feeling, because most of their lives are spent in hate, regret and ignorance.

462 - once again

The number 4, 6 and 2 will never leave me I guess... and I like it, for its connection for me is magical. Reminding me that I come from a place of love. I was searching something regarding a Greek God - Zeus, and I come across this:

In the year 462 AD the Statue of Zeus, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, was destroyed by fire after being moved to Constantinople.

The statue burned when it was moved - altered - changed from where it was meant to be. One of the seven wonders. Its destiny of place was changed, and it was destroyed. The number 462 should have been preserved. But well, it is preserved within and all around me and will always hold importance for me.
Well, the connection of this number will only be understood by me, and I guess a reader who just doesn't read me anymore - and failed to read my medium's true intentions.

The Shrinking Mirror

We all must carry a mirror for the purpose of facing our faults and wrongs – and having the mettle to face them. If we carry this mirror (at all times and not convenient ones) and face our wrongs - each time we correct ourselves - the mirror gets smaller. I agree it is not simple and your loved ones will always be biased about how "good" or "just" you are. But yet, face your faults. Be your best critic. It’s the truth. Eventually you will be free from attitude, ego, wrong self-praise and all the enemies of the virtuous soul which make one nothing but a creature of materialism and an effigy of selfishness. You will learn that self respect and individualism (and many other facets about truly being a good human) are not to be mistaken for your ego. And viola - sometime in your life, the mirror will vanish. That should be the goal. It’s difficult - but not impossible. The principle of Temet Nosce is to be followed. (I have discussed this in an earlier post - and cannot seem to stop thinking about it - not until my mirror vanishes at least)

What I truly believe is - you cannot be a fair judge of anyone's right and wrong and do not have the right to judge them, unless your mirror vanishes. Because the vision is then clear and free from any kind of bias. You start noticing everything merely as a witness.

People who fail to face the mirror (or face it only when convenient) - or are in their own world of rights and wrongs (and who claim all moral wrongs are also subjective and depend from "person-to-person" - so fucking cliché) - eventually face a mirror and which shows them their true face and their doppelganger will laugh at them with evil sarcasm. At that time it is too late, and a person can see what a monster he/she has become. Ignorance, blaming another and getting away with it, self satisfying thoughts, trying to use worldly means to take your mind off the truth and shying away from it just doesn't work anymore. Guilt, regret and the lessons of the yesteryears (which were coming to them naturally - but ignored) never leave them. They would wish they would wind the time back and change everything to save their misery which will only die when their conscious perishes - but then again, it is too late.

Well there are people who die in ignorance of their faults and betrayals, and for them I just feel they are lucky (but not fortunate – which takes us on the topic of karma, etc. but maybe some other time). But what if you're not one of them? Think.

So carry the mirror now - before it’s too late. I do carry one myself, and I am glad that I can see it getting smaller. Why? It's because I choose to. And this journey gets me closer to the truth - the depths of the persona what I am, and what I want to become.

Farthest from the Dawn

Tomorrow’s rainbow which you showed me; always gave me the hope to win,
When I thought of true love, I wonder why it turned into a sin
Aimlessly I keep walking on these pointed stones of your dearth,
My sanity evades my consciousness, now your arrival can be the only reason of my mirth,
The constant streams from the eyes hum faithful unending songs,
The body is fragile - the persistent soul for its equal excruciatingly longs
I wish to drown in the pool of the dark rivers of a mortal's heart,
The mind and the heart come to blows; the psyche says, you I should allow to from within me depart,
The skies change color and so do the dry and withered leaves,
The mind refuses to disregard and the soul still your presence believes
Chary I am of myself, and I persuade my core to justify that you are gone
But as I try harder, I always fall in the hour which is the darkest and farthest from the dawn,
Music is noise; I miss the melody of your voice and my ears now bleed,
A rainless dark cloud follows me everywhere, all the green grass is now weed
Time is now my predator hunting to devour me alive,
I wish to satisfy it – so this suffering ends – but it only chases;
what left is me, to myself contrive

It continues to grow

I wake each morning, and my heart is empty,
I am tied by a promise of not meeting you,
But in this bright and crowded city,
All I miss is us, all I miss is you.
I miss your look when I gave you that candy floss kiss,
That day we were alone, which you called ‘bliss’
I miss you on those roads I tread,
When I used to embrace you with my arms spread
I miss you shying away when we used to kiss,
Each day about us I just nowadays reminisce,
Whenever I gaze at that bottle of perfume,
I remember your fragrance and my senses bloom
I miss you in so many ways which are too much to say,
My tears from your absence I can no more weigh,
I wish I could wind back time and make you mine,
In our love’s sun, we could again shine
Remember you told me that me you would not let go,
But yet, in this desert my love continues to grow
I fail to understand why things are like this
I just wanted to tell you that it’s you that I really miss

Die another day

Heard this song performed by Madonna (I hated her to be honest). The lyrics are nice, but not detailed... a nice trigger which inspired me to write something on - maybe later. The best part I found was:

"Sigmund Freud
Analyse this
Analyse this
Analyse this..."

since I am now into psychoanalysis (mostly starting off with live subjects - present and past) :) But wont be following only Freud (I find him - once again - biased) 
So true. Easy to self destruct by betrayal, ignorance, hatred, difficulties, immoralities... but why dont we just... die another day?

Some thoughts

It is very easy for a person who is morally wrong to stand with the support of a biased army; it is easier for a person who is morally right, to stand alone.

Whenever someone feels I am afraid of their actions, hence choose not to fight with them – I love it. It is they who don’t understand that I would prefer to keep my sanity and values, rather than keep hitting my head on a cold iron wall, drain my brains, and become like them.

It is easier to die with pain than to live with a broken heart, especially when you know you were the target and the other was the dart.

The one who has hurt you by making one-sided decisions will never understand what they did wrong, but you can endure that. What will hurt you more is that they think they understand that they did the right thing.

Learning

Whenever you come across people (you may even love them) who are unreasonable, uncommitted,  ludicrous, are full of themselves, cold iron walls, selfish, intolerant, having double standards, hypocritic (etc etc... the list is endless) - do not get angry at them. Bless them, for they are the best examples of a person like whom you should never ever become. There is much to learn from them.
Think about it.

Ephesians 4:2-6

It is strange how somethings in the universe are connected by some design which is inexplicable. As I earlier stated, the numbers 4,2 and 6 hold significance for me when clubbed.
I ain't religious in the strict sense like the world is (you may have guessed that by now), but reading all kinds of texts is my interest, because when it comes to revelations, it can come in any form (person, experience, book, nature, etc) - though you may or may not like the source.

Reading the bible, I came across the Ephesians 4:2,6 - and it starts with the following:

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope, when you were called...

Strange. When you seek a connection sometimes you find none, and somethings unknowingly are connected - like signs, telling you something. Signs are all around us I believe, but you need to be clairvoyant to read them, after filtering all the needless thoughts which the mind forces you to think. To read those signs and believe them or not is entirely left onto oneself.

Concrete decision making

The human mind can never be free of self agony, regret and fears, unless it stops baseless or trial-and-error type calculations in areas of life which require concrete decision making.

The Ship and the Lighthouse

The ships come towards the lighthouse, the lighthouse never moves
They do not come for the lighthouse, but for the shores and beyond,
Many a cerebral thinkers, though authenticated, would this fact disapprove,
That light is just a medium, dark objects want to with something else bond

Matching the Relentless Prowess

He was dreaming a dream which wasn’t meant to be,
Which time had itself forgot,
Through all the skies he chose to see,
A future which seemed presently obscure somewhat
Too much water had flown above his mind,
Slowly the understanding of the inevitable,
Reasons of the earth sometimes seemed to blind
The judgment of the heart, usually kept very subtle
But rising was within his soul, and his desires were afire
The gods wouldn’t dare to intervene thoughts which were to admire
Benevolent though his thoughts were only to his loved ones
If everyone had his mind, the existence of the gods could burn
Always the rightful being is wreathed by the garland of death,
But above the will of the gods and the devil, was his wills breath
And an idea he was, and soon he died without any destiny fulfilling,
But the soul found another intermediary, human, hard was the killing
Years were the milestones of comprehending morality, and right and wrong
His battles began again, smiling; he just waited for the sound of the gong
Keeping the idea alive, he kept dying a thousand mortal demises,
But with each birth his will grew stronger, stronger now than the gods,
The consciousness questioned why such persistence always arises,
The heart said, I am only matching the relentless prowess of the gods, against all odds

Rainfall of bliss

Life wasn’t happy, but nothing to cry,
Looking at you, always made me wonder why
Why are my skies filled with a million fireflies?
And my day starts with your thought, not with the sunrise

Never did I think you also felt the same,
Silent, shy, you never call out my name
Since I now feel I know, only you forever I want to kiss,
My life has been showered with the rainfall of bliss

Your face lights up my eyes with calm fireworks
And your smile gives my sanity a sugary shirk
When you’re near, I think I still miss you
Days went by, clueless, but my love grew,

Travelling, as I see the fountains and the fields,
I can see us walking through them together,
Our love from the worlds harm I want to shield
Take care of you, yield our adore in every weather

What I now want to fulfill is in your hands not mine,
I am ready to take on anything for something so divine,
Alone with you I am always in my dreams,
When I wake up, I miss you to the extremes

Questions in my mind are now plenty,
Will your love flow like mine in a bounty?
But somehow I know you are receiving my love,
Which I am sending to you, heaven’s know that above

I only await your answer, a little to lose you I am scared
But even if you surpass by my love, uninformed, undeclared,
I still will know, my love is true and you forever I wanted to kiss,
And yet my life would always be showered, with the rainfall of bliss

Pathways of Ice and Fire

Sometimes, just sometimes, we attract through our wishful thoughts,
The land of integrity appear plenty to run, and roads appear as we chose to wrought
Then when we choose to walk with someone or something very close,
Acid rainwater befalls clean and as it starts to snow, so do disappear all woes
Walking hand in hand you can see the future – maybe a bit hazy but bright,
Fears and uncertainty vanish and all that continues living is delight
The cipher of life is defined by love, and till the end we want it to fulfill itself,
Someone – something to hold onto, and everything to pride the self

But life has a habit of being like the moon, at times shining and soothing, on occasion it eclipsed
The roads once roved, retrospectively turn in a horizon of thin ice, and you’re anguished,
Once chosen to tread further, the ice cracks open and down you set off,
Whirling in those freezing waters you might drown, freeze and at life you will scoff,
Choosing to stay in those frozen waters, you might survive; your heart freezes, all your virtuous sentiments becoming extinct,
Bitterness creeps within, logic prevails, the heart dies and to not live its life becomes succinct,
You institute to look at years differently, practically, and all the love and passion within you perishes,
But if you vary by vigor, ignorant about facts, your soul all alone, is full of blemishes

The path can also turn hard, rough and days breathing full of fire,
Your soul and heart can choose to burn, but instead, freezing your compassion may seem dire,
Smoldering in fire is torment; the truthful soul always identifies this ‘human’ pain well,
Times with fire are those, in which everything pleasant is missed and time gives the impression of hell,
But barefoot treading on those roads, burning, churning in thoughts of a demise,
Days and nights do not pass, but remember; fire always comes with a guise
Times with fire teach one to be empathetic, sober, genuine and not a heartless wall,
Thoughts become conscious, pure, the soul learns to endure, and overlook what is small
Feeling each emotion torching within completely, leads to a redemption
Comprehending life and its trails, to get up and to take the stand becomes a mission
Despite facing hurt and sometimes what is false, true to yourself and others you remain, splendor entirely,
You learn virtues and belief’s are bulletproof, even from enemies to learn affectionately,
Through burning the soul purifies and the meaning of true love is eventually found,
The strength arrives to never escape any trials and commitments, but to be with majesty crowned.

Though there are different responses for being hit by the unpredictability of existence, not all are ones to admire,
My belief shall always remain that mostly one should favour fire,
For the element of fire destructs, ashes are left of what should burn, faded is false attire,
What stays is something to yearn for, which is in significance much higher.

The one because of whom I realised...

I wrote a story 'Not how long you live, but how long you love' for a reader of mine, and I think that reader has not been reading me since quite sometime now. You made some difference in my thought patterns and now I think I am getting better at expressing myself through my words. I now know I also can write differently. Thank you - for your thoughts got me to a platform within me, and now I know I can write on any genre I choose. Astounded as I am, it happened - as I thought nothing could change my writing. Dear Reader, who got those thoughts to me, and made me aware I also come from another place, and on the basis of your thoughts I changed my writing style, I just wanted you to know, I miss you.

This day, last month

Someone just spoke to me now, and this day last month, someone had exchanged 19 sms's, most of which were about committing to stay together, especially some words in the 'hindi' language which were beautiful. Strange how something can change so soon, and in a months time a scenario can change so much, that the person who sent the 19 sms, doesn't even communicate a word (forget about meaning whatever was sent in those sms's). Whatever may have happened, may have happened for a reason (and a series of events). Well, I always think (and I can't help to repeat this enough, even to myself) that everything deserves working out - without counting on which end the faults lied. But the other backing out of a commitment can make anyone lose his/her sanity temporarily and results in reaction. If only people could understand.

Why are words just words for the world? Well, I certainly know for me they are not.

The Shadow

Stunned, broken, crying, I returned to my abode,
How things ended, and how this pain was bestowed,
Constant questions in my mind, constant tears in my eyes,
How everything which was sometime true, turns into a big lie?

Tired and weary, as I lied down on my couch,
Numb but in pain, I was not sure if for any feeling I could vouch,
To recompense for the darkness already within me,
The lights went out, and there was nothing I could see

Though the darkness, I kept lying still as a corpse in a grave,
The presence of my lost one, I all the more started to crave
As my feelings went through a rollercoaster, and so did the flow of my tears,
I saw a hooded shadow outside the window, to add and magnify my fears

Through the moonlight, the shadow for a moment lay still,
I blinked my eyes, the shadow disappeared at its will,
As startled I left my forced comfort,
The silence was deafening, and I felt to this feeling no resort

‘Get up boy; it’s just a shadow, that’s all’
I repeated to myself, in contradiction to all my bravery fall
Sitting up now, and on my feet in the darkened room as I stood,
There appeared the shadow again, this time without the hood.

It did not disappear this time, though I blinked long and hard,
Lonely, battered, in darkness with a shadow, all fear, no guard
Only my insanity could help me take such a stride,
I went towards the window, instead of choosing to hide

As I walked, my heart was beating a thousand beats,
Fear vanishes sometimes, and sometimes bravery self defeats
I reached the edge of my room, and to the window sill,
The shadow stay put there, watching me, making my soul still

Though the transparent shadow seemed dark at first, and I couldn’t see its eyes,
I knew it was staring at me, I wondered whether to face it was wise,
Slowly it moved more to face me, darker than it could ever be,
The shadow now lit up with a divine light, and I saw it was me

Staggered, I took a step back as I was petrified,
But the shadow stood there, still, ‘me’ personified
As I now dared and looked into its eyes,
The scary shadow also had the look which was wise

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice coming out shaken,
“I am you,” the shadow said, “and I have come to you, to awaken”
Hearing his calm but loud voice, I doubted my sanity, before I could squeal
“Go away, I am disturbed” I said, “And as it is, you’re not real.”

The shadow stood there still and now more opaque,
“You’re afraid to face your fears, hence I have come to rescue,
“I know you’re hurt, and battered and broken – but now nothing is at stake,
“And if you think you’ve lost it all, you’re in miscue.”

“What would you know,” I said, “It is me who is hurt.
“True values are not valued, the world is bad, and emotions are dirt.”
The shadow came into my room and now stood at a distance,
And from within me, I now believed, it had come to my assistance.

“I know what happened to you, and it is of such sorrow,
“But in all this mess, why do you fail to see tomorrow,
“Life is like this – hurtful, painful, and filled with people without morals,
“But to fail to try hard for winning, will just be of the truth, a denial.”

Hearing him, I said, “All is lies and truth which you speak about is nothing but pain,
“Why does the world thrive on making the good suffer, why do the wrongful gain?”
“The pain which you refer is merely for you to understand,” he continued,
“That truthful existence is a war, and by small skirmish’s you must never be subdued.

“Always keep your hands clean, and your mind right on track,
“For if you have a strong mind, it may even make the will of the God’s attack.
“If you shall lose in the course of you being rightful and just,
“Remember, even if you perish, glory is in such existence, and it shall never rust.

“Everything that starts has an end, and all of life will not always be the same,
“Sometimes the storms are the darkest, before the rainbow and the pleasant rain.
“And when life seems very austere, and it appears easier to escape,
“Never forget that a warrior is the one who stays and fights, and always his own future shapes.

Saying this, the shadow started carrying himself towards the window,
I now didn’t want him to leave, for by his words, my pain was overshadowed,
“Don’t leave just yet; there is much I want to tell you,”
“How can I leave,” he said, “I am always within you.

“I always was within you, in your best as well as darkest juncture,
“And if you choose to awaken me, strength is all that you shall capture.
“For life is too short to percolate any regret or sorrow,
“Cherish your happy times, as if there is no tomorrow.

The shadow then left my sight, but only my sight it seemed to leave,
It’s affirmative and fighting presence, was within me now I believed,
And now I learnt the lessons it taught me, in words very few,
And I now know that of the ship of my destiny, I am the captain, and I am the crew.

And now each time I face hurt, pain, immorality or inconsistencies,
I know how to look at and deal with the universe’s anomalies,
Because though my body is transitory, the shadow will never die or surrender,
And if a battle is thrown onto me, I shall be its best contender.

A thought

People who do not recognise and accept something good which comes to them, and reject it or fight to get rid of it, are fearful of choosing what they subconsciously think they don’t actually deserve.

Futile Anger

Whenever there is a reaction based on someone else’s wrong – unnecessary anger can be wrong – despite it is a result of a chain reaction or you are mentally disturbed. Even I am not an exception to this – and whenever I have lost my cool and said or done things which are unreasonable, I am wrong in doing that (that being my flaw – which I have to work on). The most bitter experiences teach you about the most important facets as to how one should live his/her life (only if one is willing to learn – by the principle of Temet Nosce), and I always choose to look inside myself as well. And that makes me a better judge of what is wrong or right inside another person.

Anger is not the quality which makes great men – who want to achieve something significant if life. I shall shed off this habit. And as far as the ones who are wrong – they will meet their own fate. After all – you cannot help a person who doesn’t wish to learn about his/her faults – or is not virtuous, has hurt you badly. Such a person eventually self destructs, and you can’t save them even if you want to – even if you love them. I choose to not self destruct - and at least listen and gauge my own flaws - and rectify them.

A person – even though right – should control his anger – for it can lead him/her nowhere, despite you know the other person is wrong. Yes, because of injustice, oppression, unreasonableness - facing hurt of betrayal, one does get angry, but the person who is wrong will never understand it – or may not have the strength to face his/her own faults. I am glad I realise my own flaws myself and also listen to my loved ones when they point out there is some quality in me which requires working on.

Sometimes, despite you’re fearless, you have to let go fighting for something – even for proving something like commitment. That is because if you choose to fight for it, you fear that another loved one may suffer or have to go through an agony.

The cause and the cure...

I wonder if you remember our first special kiss
The one that melted our beautiful souls intertwined.
Why don’t you long for that kiss to happen again?
I close my eyes, and always picture that moment in time.

You said “I’m yours forever”, and I cannot like you forget,
All those times, and there was nothing in life to regret
As I have from the start, I will love you forever,
At anyone else I cannot now even look, and never

As the leaves tapped down on my window softly,
With you, the sun shone on my soul brightly,
Nature and this world seemed so very pleasant and polite,
Your love etched my soul pleasantly, and all my days and nights

But now it seems everything was just a good dream,
You have left me now, and every night it makes me scream,
Looks like the devil now resides within me,
Why did you change, why cannot the truth of my love you can now see

My tears I shed all over my shoulder, not yours.
In your absence, life feels like on my chest is a boulder
I believed you would never leave me, and you’re the only one I could ever trust,
But now you let this faith in me, with a lot of pain rot and rust

When I see you, my soul still lights up with aspiration, and hope
But the shade of your love has turned into a noose made of rope
You say you are with me, and to speak to you I always lure
But I know within, the cause can never be the cure

I love your warm smile still, and still remember your kind, thoughtful way,
I also remember and miss the joy that you brought to my life every day.
My love always coincided with this trust that you will not seperate us,
And now broken silence is all, there is nothing to talk or discuss

As I start on my already ended journey now, without you, clueless,
I don’t know where to take myself, or what to do.
I wish like you, I could just make this decision, justify and progress
But your presence is now engraved in me, and I just cannot see myself through

Future, choice and ignorance

If you think you have the means of looking into the future and choose to look into it, you may be confused if the future will be what you decide it to be and by sticking to your present path, can you alter your future the way it appears. Choosing not to look into the future would seem a right choice sometimes, if it seems to you that you cannot change the future anyways, or only you can choose what your future can be. If you chose to look into the future, and because of that, you change the present, the risk is that your future may not be what you actually could choose it to be had you not seen it, and that changes everything you could choose in the present, and in turn everything in the future changes, because you chose to look at it.

Though, be very careful about what you choose to care about in the present because what needs to be cared about may be ignored by you, and what needs to be ignored may be cared by you. So, the things which need to be cared about become meaningless for the present but may be important to be chosen to be cared about for the future as you want it to be, and maybe until you choose to care about them, it may be too late and your life may be devoid of any meaning whatsoever.

Not how long we live, but how long we love

Dear Unvarying Reader,
I have written some stories and quite many thoughts on these pages. I can't at all term this one specific reader as my fan, and she many a times hates what I write, or doesn't approve of it. With regards to stories and thoughts, I had received views that my writings are absurd, wierd or dark or about the occult. Well, we are all here to do what we are all here to do. I am built that way, and always write what comes naturally to me.
But this reader is important to me and Theseus. The reader many a times expressed that she likes to read stuff with a happy ending and a kind of a nice love story - in simple language. I thought I should get out of my normal mode of writing whatever I write and try a hand at this. It was a challenge for me as a writer and I enjoyed writing this a little more than my other pieces - as I love to challenge myself. 
So here it is my dear reader... my first work on something which is not my true style. Hope I have succeeded in my smalltime quest. And let me know what else would you like to read... from this dark writer.


It was 7 AM. Melissa climbed down the flight of stairs from her house to the pavement and unlocked her bicycle. The road was wet from the shower the previous night and as she rode it down the street, she could see the squirrels playing on a tree, as though dancing. The leaves rustled in the cool monsoon wind and made a rhythmic kind of sound. The moist air around was resonant of the sweet smell of earth.
Though the surroundings and weather were something which would even make a lackluster kind of person sing in a melodious tune, Mel was unresponsive to all of this. It was very reasonable for her to be that way, because of what she had gone through recently. A heartbreak. Her boyfriend had cheated on her. She had cried for long, and had had nightmares and also light effects of insomnia. Hurt by the incident – but she hadn’t turned bitter. She thought all the people were not the same and something within her made her believe that the good in the world was not lost. Since a few days, her thoughts mostly swayed to the horrible incidents which hurt her, but she tried her best to keep herself occupied with studies and maintaining and adding new gadgets to her aquarium at home. She loved flowers, but since long, the flower vase was empty.
Lost in her soft but hurtful thoughts, as she was going through a cross-road, a car appeared from the left and she lost temporary momentum of hitting the brakes and lost her balance, her heart started beating like bullets fired from a war gun. She closed her eyes. At that spilt second, she felt pushed along with her bicycle and felt the arms of a man touching her shoulders as she felt levitated in the air.
She opened her eyes with surprise and saw a man, a little more than 6 feet tall and little over the age of forty, she presumed.
“Be careful next time kid. Where were you lost?” he said, as he helped her to the side on the pavement. He had lifted the bicycle and moved it from the way of the speeding vehicle.
Mel’s legs were rubbery, as she was aware she nearly escaped a very ghastly accident.
Though she didn’t understand what to say, she had to say something. The man had just saved her.
“Thank you mister,” she said, her voice still shivering.
“It’s ok kid, you be careful hence,” he said as he saw her.
“Yes, I will. Thanks once again,” Mel said, and she pedaled her way forward.

As she reached her college, riding all the way cautiously and more aware of the road, her feet were now stable.
“Hey Mel, how are you today?” Gillian said. Gillian had been her friend since grade school.
“Fine, fine. Just escaped something nasty on the way, but there was a kind man who saved me,” she said as she locked her bicycle on the stand.
“Oh, we shall talk about that later. Men haven’t been kind to you girl, so you can stop using the word ‘kind’. You alright now? It’s time for math”, Gillian said as her feet hurried towards the corridors.
“Oh yeah, the dreaded math. I will flunk this time I guess. Numbers are just not my thing.” She said as she explored her bag for the books.
As they walked into the class, and the lecture began, Mel just kept thinking about the exams which were up next week.
Following the lecture, while all her friends were fooling around , pulling each other’s leg, figuratively, Mel sat down on the park bench, flipping pages of her math book, and all the math formulae and numbers made her feel she is dyslexic. She was worried. She knew she could not afford to not be up to snuff this time with math.
“Seems like you are thick with numbers huh”, a girl sitting on the same bench said. She had long hair, blue eyes and looked confident and mature.
“Yeah, my grey cells seem to hate math. Just doesn’t make peace with me no matter how hard I try.” Mel said, somewhat disgusted and wondering why this stranger is interested.
“Well, I can help you out you know. If you want, that is.” The stranger said, in a tone which was very assuring.
“Well, thanks. But why would you help me out with this?” Mel asked, confused.
“There are no reasons for helping anyone in need, is there?” The girl said, getting closer to Mel.
“Ok. Thanks again. By the way, I am Melissa. My friends call me Mel. And you are?” Mel led out her hand for a shake, and her trust in this stranger was confusing her now.
The stranger shook her hand with a smile which made Mel feel right as rain. “Janet. So shall we meet here tomorrow, post your college is done?”
“Yeh. Sure. Thanks. And do you study here? I haven’t seen you here before.” Mel asked as she got up from the bench.
“Oh well, I am a new student here from overseas. New Orleans. Don’t forget to get your calculator tomorrow.” Janet said, still seated, and smiled.
Mel, went to her bicycle and while she was unlocking it, she found the most red rose she had ever seen on the seat. She looked around but saw no one. As she picked it up, she saw on a petal, it was written ‘I Love You’.
She looked around once again, and was a little disturbed. She just hoped it was not a psycho who was stalking her. But she didn’t face anything like this since days, and nothing seemed suspicious. She plucked the petal and took the flower, and rode home.
She placed the flower in the empty vase on her window sill, and filled it with sufficient water.

The next day, she went to college, attended her lectures and met Janet as scheduled. Janet was brilliant. She taught Mel all the basics and the formulae with many a pneumonic so well, that Mel felt confident. After bidding goodbye to Janet for the day, though she didn’t express it, Mel felt very grateful to Janet. Six days for the exams and Mel was already feeling confident.
As she went back to her bicycle, the flower was there again, with the written petal. Somehow, she didn’t feel unsafe, and she once again plucked the petal and took the rose. On her way back, she was in a mindset of mystery. Maybe it was some of her friends playing a prank on her.
For two consecutive days Janet taught Mel the tricks of mathematics and calculus. And both the days she found the rose on her bicycle seat, with the petal.
The evening she returned home, Mel felt uneasy. She got a terrible pain in her head and in her stomach. She was rushed to the hospital by her parents. The pain was excruciating and the doctors gave a morphine injection to soothe her, but that was not helping her much.
In the hour after midnight, a doctor walked in. Mel was awake from the pain. He looked at her reports and came and sat on the chair beside her bed.
“I know you’re in pain.” He said.
“I am here for long now, and I will miss my exams. I will lose a year, and my parents don’t have enough funds to waste on my tuitions fees for another year right now.” Mel said, as a tear rolled down her eye, partly because of the pain, partly because of the worry.
“Don’t worry, you will be alright, and you won’t waste a year at all.” The elderly doctor said, as he touched her forehead. Mel immediately went into a slumber.
The next morning, she got up and felt as fresh as a blooming bud with dew on it. A doctor walked in with her parents – the doctor who had administered the morphine – and smiled at her.
“You have been saved by a miracle. You had a bad liver, and we were expecting you to get into a coma in the night. But somehow, all your reports are fine now. Your tests have come out clean as of 8 AM this morning. This is a nothing but a marvel. You can leave for home in sometime.” The doctor said, as he left the room.
Her parents hugged her.
As she was leaving, she wanted to meet the doctor who visited her in the night. She asked the head nurse about him, and the head nurse gave a look as if she had seen an UFO.
“There is no doctor in our panel who looks like that.” The nurse said. “Anyways, it is almost lunch time now, and you can check in this directory. It has details of all our doctors affiliated with us.”
Mel flipped through the pages, but didn’t find the old doctor’s profile anywhere.
Mel was surprised and awed. Who was he anyways?
Mel was advised rest for some days, and those days she stayed at home and studied math the way Janet taught her to. She wanted to give her exams and clear. She couldn’t afford to financially burden her parents anymore.

Each morning as she went out on her porch, the flower was there on the seat of her bicycle, with the petal, and Mel was now getting worried and surprised and felt nice at the same time. No one was stalking her and now her curiosity was increasing as to who is this silent admirer – and the one who claims that he or she loves her. For three days as she picked up the flower from her bicycle stationed on her porch, she placed the flowers in the vase which was now almost full. The most astonishing thing was, the roses never wilted. She felt some affirmative electricity around her which she couldn’t just explain and she chose not to think of it much.
The day of the exam arrived, and Mel felt confident. She had studied well, thanks to Janet. The test finished and Mel came out of the class, much to her dismay to see Gillian’s face stressed.
“Hey Gillian, what happened? How was your test.” Mel asked, concerned.
“I think I will just scrape through. It was the toughest paper in years. Mel, don’t be disheartened. I will help you cope the next time. Will teach you so you clear next time. I feel so sorry.” Gillian said as they walked towards the exit of the corridor.
“Hmm. Well. Gillian, infact my test was great. I think I will score at a 90.” Mel said, and Gillian stopped.
“What? Well, I mean… that’s great. But how comes? You dreaded this subject.” Gillian said, looking confused.
“I met Janet. She is a senior student from New Orleans. She met me at the park bench and taught me math, for a brief period. And it helped me. A lot.” Mel responded, then continued after a pause, “Actually, I should try and get her number and thank her. You carry on Gillian, I will visit the office and get her number, so I can call and thank her.”
Gillian and Mel hugged each other and departed.
Mel walked over to the office and inquired about Janet. The office replied that there was no student by that name which ever took an admission in this college. Mel was now perplexed, dazed.
Once again, on her bicycle, she saw the rose. This time she didn’t pluck the petal, and took it home – though on her way, she passed by the park. Janet was not there.
Nathan looked down upon the city from a height of the empire state building at 2 AM. As he closed his eyes, he could hear millions of voices. Thoughts of people swarmed his ears and he could hear them one minute at a time. From beautiful to ugly to outrageous.
“I can see you’re giving too much attention to a human. Your mind is crowded by her thoughts.,” Aurelius said.
Nathan got a start. “Father, I didn’t hear you coming.”
“I can read you Nathan. The most important principle we follow is not to get attached to any mortal. We are just here to answer our calling, and that is to save as many good souls from the trials and sorrows as possible, from the effects of Lucifer and the other evils which these mortals have created for themselves.” Aurelius said in a deep tone.
“I love her father. I have helped countless mortals since hundreds of years, but Melissa is different. She has no corruption in her mind, and her ways, her thoughts just make me want to be with her. It is something I have never felt before. I want to show myself to her. Talk to her as myself.” Nathan said, as he sighed.
“Do you even know the price of this Nathan? If you chose to show your true self to her, it means you will have to turn into a mortal. You will lose most of your powers. You will be imprisoned in a body. A fragile human body.” Aurelius said, his voice getting louder, and angrier. Nathan had been his only son.
“I love her father. And I am going to be with her tomorrow. Humans have such a beautiful institution of marriage. I want to marry her.” Nathan said, a little sternly.
“Mortals – though many of them are honourable – have to face other mortals who are evil. Many of them bleed. They suffer. They cry. They die. What is it worth? If you be with her, will you be able to help her the way you can with your powers now? Human life is unpredictable, dangerous. What if she dies? What if you die?” The voice of Aurelius now grew thunderous, with a tear wanting to roll out of his eye.
“We cannot prevent all evils father. Like I could not prevent her heartbreak. We are too limited of our powers. We are not omnipotent. But love makes all things possible and worthwhile. Even in trials and sorrows, love binds. Even if we die prematurely, I believe it is not how long anyone lives, but how long anyone loves that makes a human’s life worthwhile.” Nathan said.
“Well Nathan, I can read that your thoughts are unalterable, and you will do this despite you have my consent, or not.” Aurelius said, bowing his head.
“You can come and see me anytime father. I regret I cannot come and see you. I can only think of you.” Nathan said as he extended his arms to hug Aurelius – one last time.
“Think of me, and I shall be there. I cannot be biased and look upon you all the time, but I will be there when you think of me. Godspeed, my son” Aurelius said as he hugged his son.

After a week or so, as Mel rode out to the local departmental store, she was missing the flowers. The day of her exam was the last day she had found a rose. The roses were still blooming in her vase, and the enigma around it never left her mind.

As she left the store after completing her chores, the rose was once again seen on the seat of her bicycle. She saw a boy, nineteen to twenty-one years old, fair, with golden brown short hair and green eyes, looking at her. Mel now knew at once it must be him who left the roses all this while.
“So it was you, who left all these roses all this while for me,” she said as she picked it up. This time there was no petal with anything written on it. She didn’t mention anything about it.
“I love you Melissa, and I have been watching over you since many years. I am sorry for all wrong that happened to you. I just couldn’t prevent it. For it was based on your free will. I could only help you when your inner will wanted something.” Nathan said, as he came closer.
“I don’t even know you. Who are you? And how do you know my name?” Mel said, bedazzled. His other words partly were processed by her, and partly were unheard.
“I know. But you will. I am Nathan, and I live not far from your place. Shall we walk?” Nathan asked.
Mel didn’t respond and started walking with her bicycle alongside. She didn’t know what to say to him, and he spoke nothing. He occasionally looked at her and smiled. She tried her best from reciprocating to this.
Nathan raised his head and said, “The earth smells pleasant after some nice rain, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah it does,” Mel said as she looked at him and let out a faint smile.
She had many questions in her mind. Who is he? Why does he like me? Could I trust him? What is he like? Where did Janet disappear?

As they came across a crossroad, she was still lost in her thoughts. Nathan held the bicycle and stopped it. “You need to get out of this habit of wandering in your thoughts while crossing the street. Eight days back, it almost got you killed. Can you be a little more careful about yourself, please?” he said.
Mel couldn’t help but feel faintly in a fairytale. She was totally speechless the whole way, but something told her that everything was going all right.
As they approached her home, Nathan stopped and spoke to her.
“I know you have many questions. I am going to answer all of them. Can we meet for coffee in the evening at seven?”
“Yes.” Mel said.
Nathan left and walked half a block.
Just then, he turned and looked back. Mel was still standing at her door. He smiled. She smiled back at him.