waking up on the battle field

I opened my eyes to the sharp twang of bowstrings, and suddenly the scene before me started becoming more clear.

I could clearly make out one of our archers putting all his life into ensuring that every arrow flew as far as they were meant to, and the speed at which he was losing the shafts meant he was panicking.

This didn't feel good, and I couldn't see how many more archers made up the line. They needed to relax if they were to be effective, and I wondered which moron was the commander around here. I wished I could just walk out and get them in shape.

Its when I tried to move that the searing pain cut my vision again. I was just summoning my strength to stand up, when something braced my face with a heavy whizzing sound .I knew it was an arrow, and it indeed was.

A black coated shaft with silver feathers and tough metal. A fine shaft indeed and I couldn't help appreciate how many hours of art would have crafted such a wonder. A shame if they were being wasted upon corpses and random trees.

On closely examining the shaft, I could see that it had pierced the shield kept inside the tent, and the blade was still intact. The moment of admiration passed when I identified the marks of our enemy. My heart pumped hard. The enemy archers were hitting the camps and with such fine arrows, and our foot soldiers won't stand a chance against an onslaught.

It was time for a retreat. I looked around for my commander, but couldn't find him anywhere

*********

I open my eyes to the constant tip-tap noises, and suddenly the scene before me started becoming more clear.

I could clearly make out one of our pals putting all his life into typing a mail and ensure that no one can reply to it in another day, and the speed at which he was mis-typing meant there was a release today.

This didn't feel good, and I couldn't see how many more coders made up the office space. They needed to relax if they were to be effective, and I wondered which moron was the supervisor around here. I wished I could just walk out and get them laid off.

Its when I tried to read my mails that the searing pain cut my vision again. I was just summoning my strength to send a reply, when a notification blinked on a screen with a screeching sound. I knew it was an issue mail, and indeed it was.

A mean and nasty one with enough logs. A fine mail indeed and I couldn't help appreciate how many hours of composing would have crafted such a wonder. A shame if they were being wasted upon non-existing defects and random teams.

On closely examining the mail, I could see that it had found some real defects and it had more logs. The moment of admiration passed when I identified the marks of a customer issue. My heart pumped hard. The testers were hitting the teams with such fine mails,  and our developers won't stand a chance against an onslaught.

 It was time for going Out of Office. I looked around for my manager, but couldn't find him anywhere.

back to the school

I have been taking some distance courses and recently our exams were conducted in the Delhi Public School.

During one such exam, I managed to finish a couple of hours ahead of schedule and had to wait for my friends. Without enough battery backup on my phone, I had nothing else to do than roam around.

The school has 3 or 4 buildings each consisting of 3-4 floors for the classrooms and other specialized activities. Having nothing else to do, I decided to poke my nose into anything and everything around.
And so I kept going on rounds, clockwise and anti-clockwise, up and down various stairs for a good part of a couple of hours. I read all the tiny articles, class posters and charts made by the students of primary school, stuck on bulletin boards, blackboards and there were also these pieces of art stored in some rooms.

Needless to say, most of the contents were regular and the kind you get from net. But most of the small articles were cutely decorated, written in squiggly handwriting of a new writer. I wondered how many of them enjoyed it and how many just wanted to get over with it.

There are couple of these articles that really got my attention. One was a poem written by a sixth grader on bullying (that was the theme in the entire building). I wish I could share it here, but even kids have copyrights, so I am not. But it had an innate sense of pride in rejecting bullies and standing up for oneself. I wished someone had written such stuff in my school days. It was such a strong spirit. I hope the tiny hands had written her own words and if so she would definitely write more.

There were couple of articles on festivals by even younger kids which reflected their love for playful Krishna or their traditional rituals which put in simple language of kids sounds very cute.

And there were some which shocked me. No student of 4th Std would be able to write articles using words like "sunkissed beaches", "Rugby is good for cardiovascular health" and all. This was clearly the work of parents, elder siblings etc that is so proudly posted there. This upset me because not only were the parents creating an unnatural balance among peers, they were also doing a disservice to their own wards.

In my school days, taking credit for work done by parents or even asking them do such a thing would almost always result in scolding and a round of beating. :) Memories of running around the house to avoid being beaten always accompany a bitter-sweet feeling.

Anyway schools are fun. With or without exam :)

End of a year

Its with such pace that the year 2014 has passed, and I must say passed over me.

I feel like being hit by a truck when I think back. I have been overwhelmed and beaten hands-down in my games this year. Well.. at least a couple of rounds.

But what saddens me is the tiny Blog Archive dropdown in the right side of this post. I was proudly watching the every growing number of articles and sending those as feedback to myself. The number has unfortunately, very unfortunately slumped by more than 50%.

In place of the 57 I wrote in 2013, I wrote only 20 so far in 2014. A year of less writing seems like a year of distraction and unhappiness. Well, after all shouldn't I have reasons to write? If not, then things are not ok. But I am not so sure now. Anyway, that is matter for another day.

Another year with a slump is 2009 and rightly so. That too was a year of big changes, and exposure to new difficulties. I gripped back slowly and definitely 2013 was a marvellous year. But was it the flicker of the dying lamp? Sigh..

Well, the sadness definitely let me overcome my inertia and let the words fly through the tips of my fingers into the slimy office keyboard and weave some of those wordy fabric that I so often loved to do.

:-)

hope someone still keeps an eye open for my ramblings, because I am taking your invisible presence as my blessing and encouragement to train the narrator in me to walk again.