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.

Lord of War

Opening up the news websites, or on switching on the TV, I regularly see images of soldiers carrying weapons, or protesters demonstrating in front of policemen armed to the teeth. Add to this the image and news of regular shoot-outs in various neighbourhoods.

On one such occasion I couldn't help wonder what I would think on seeing the same images, if I were to own a significant number of arms and ammunition factories. Supposedly, I had connections in the shady east Europe, or North Africa or South East Asia, to name a few, this would have been fairly easy too..

What would be my thoughts? Would I be noticing the weapons, the nature of usage, the country, and going over my deals and plan my charts? Will I call up my execs and ask for ground report? I would maybe run calculations in my head on which gang leaders I would want to meet, which lobby gangs should I fund, which political party to add my weight behind and so on.

I would be a very busy man for sure, as competition is heavy in this business.
The low cost Chinese models make it hard to negotiate with the rich yet stupid clients that we arms tycoons have to regularly deal with. And the rascals who run for shit like peace and charity missions continuously make me lose markets. But then the damage they make hardly makes a dent in my profits.

Dealing with politicos is the hardest part everywhere. The shady goons in their employ bring good deals, but going ahead with their cuts has to be a very discrete, else I would be the one who has to face the music. Its easier to deal with anarchies and rebels, and hence our organization has been dedicated to creating more and more such markets.

Well, last but not the least the domestic markets are booming everywhere. Ranging from people who keep guns to defend their property from neighbours to those who want to keep their illegal empires intact, I have a big list of customers.

Its tough going these days, but we are good at this, so don't be surprised if you find your closest friend or relative in my customer list :) sooner or later..

stopover..

A sweet voice beckons me to the golden plates with mounds of mouth watering delights , as I get down from my bright and warm carriage. The journey had been long and wonderful but I am tired and irritated.

I recognize the greenest and freshest treasures from our garden, and my mouth resembles the suez canal.

My mother's preparations adorn this royal feast and I start picking up one after the other, commenting on how each one tastes and occasionally ignoring a bit of imperfection.

I eat to satisfaction and dunk myself into the refreshing juices from the orchards, while eyeing the mounds of ice cream made from the ice brought in from the Himalayas.

The same Himalayas, on the peaks of which I sang a hopeful song before returning home for the feast. No mountains can keep me away from the love of a handful of rice. Or was it just the growl of the tummy? Anyway here I am, and I would have regretted if I wasn't.

As the feast ends, I eye the clock and the voice in the head starts uttering strange things. It is time to leave and my carriage has arrived. The carriage painted in bright yellow, with green stripes seems hypnotizing and the voice in the head seems more and more distant as I get into the carriage and tuck myself in, into the comfort of the warm blankets, and continue my wild quest into the lands unknown.

Sayonara and happy lazy sunday evening :)

the lil champ

Last month my elder brother got married. A lot of my cousins had come for the marriage and we had a nice time after a long time.Some of my elder cousin sisters who were married placed official invitations to me to visit their cities. I reluctantly nodded to all of them at once.

Finally the Navarathri festival was upon us and I was wondering whose requests to address first. One of my cousins in Chennai had given birth to a baby boy a year ago, and I hadn't even visited them yet. Feeling bad about that, I decided that I would spend my Navarathri weekend with her. Also, there were already comments that the boy was of the same birth star as mine, and people were talking about how he would now follow my path. This was the fourth such instance in the family and so far the cousins and nieces of the same birth star were strikingly similar in nature. So, I too was curious to see this new avatar nephew of mine, wondering how he would fit the gang...

Dream nephews

I promptly booked tickets and made it to her home on the morning of the Saturday of Navarathri. I was spoke to my brother-in-law for a while. My cousin was nowhere to be seen, as she was bathing the baby. I decided to go inside and talk to her. One seeing me, she waved to me and talked while massaging the  baby who now lie on her feet, with some smelly oil from a red bottle. She seemed to be rubbing and massaging quite strongly. I was worried seeing that and asked her whether it was safe to handle a baby so roughly.

someone was enjoying it..

To that, she replied with a wink- "This will make him strong. How do you think he will be strong like you and climb mountains and ride up the Everest?". I nearly fell for that flattery but making a late detection of mockery, made my escape to the kitchen for a bite. I kept thinking of how a small baby could take such rough handling and what she had meant. I decided she was just pulling my legs, glancing at my 2 year old 'IT' tummy. Automatically my hands took the cue and dropped the biscuit packet, which I was half way through. My legs dragged me to the guest room and I went to get refreshed.

After a bath in the cold water and a hot breakfast of 'Infinite Dosa', I washed the plates and with a burp dragged myself to the drawing room for some TV. Karan, my nephew was now all freshened up too after his rough bath and a tummy full of cerelac(or whatever it is that babies eat these days). He started following me around on his knees. I ignored him for a while, walking at a normal pace that I was sure babies couldn't keep up with.

a jolt to bolt..

But soon I found him crawling between my legs or obstructing me again and again. To play around a bit, I started moving zig-zag making him play catch up. I was sure he wouldn't make it, so I moved around slowly, calling him to me. But I was surprised to see him catch me even before I could finish calling his name. Though it was a 25 yr old adult against a 1 year old baby, I decided I should win at least a round. But he didn't let me and I was tired after a while. Frustrated, I went out for a walk and on returning, I was glad to see him asleep. I somehow spent the rest of the day without going head-on against him. "This wasn't happening!!!". The Leo in me was clearly depressed.

My brother-in-law had the night shift and left for office by evening. The action movie we decided to watch on TV was quite boring. Karan was lying next to my sister who was beginning to doze off halfway through. I noticed that Karan was awake now and was playing with some stuffed toy. My phone rang suddenly and I jumped up startled to check it. My hand must have hit something heavy and it hurt. I pulled back my hand and looked around to see what I had hit. To my horror, the heavy cupboard was tipping over and it was gonna fall straight on top of Karan, who seemed busy kicking his toy out of his cradle. I wanted to scream, to kick my sister awake, and pull Karan out of the way. But my feet seemed frozen to the floor and I couldn't feel even a squeak come out of throat. I closed my eyes and tried not to think what would happen, praying to all the Gods whose pictures hung on the wall behind me. "Why Oh Gods??"

innocence is bliss

After a second, not hearing even a sound, I opened my eyes to see that the cupboard now rested on the cradle. I found my feet were stuck no longer and ran to Karan to check whether he was OK. He seemed to be perfectly OK and in fact was overjoyed and lay there giggling. A wave of relief passed over me. I didn't notice until then that his legs were held high. My eyes followed his legs to see what he was doing and I almost had my heart in my mouth seeing what he had done. The cupboard rested on his tiny feet and he seemed to hold its weight. I was busy rubbing my eyes several times to check if I was dreaming, when he kicked it aside and it landed with a loud THUD on the ground.

Next thing I know, I was wide awake staring at the TV which had started playing some Teleshopping programs and I looked up to see my sister standing above me with a rolled newspaper in her hand. Her expressions told me all that I needed to know. But feeling the dry throat, I craned my neck to check on Karan. I was glad to find him rolling in his cradle, giggling loudly. As I got up and examined the red bottle from which my sister had taken the oil for massaging him, I couldn't help feel something uncanny.

The 'Tail' expert

This post was written as a part of the Indiblogger contest "Traditional Knowledge, Natural Growth".

Living an average life - the zen perspective

As always, Zenpencils rocks!!

I don't see any problem in living an normal education, investing in regular stuff, playing the routine things and retiring the old fashioned way, IF you are able to uncover moments of passion and love in the act of doing all these. Else it is time you started opening your ears, eyes and heart to the much larger world and live life King size!! :-)

a beautiful misty morning

Good morning all ya fellas..

it is a beautiful, misty morning out here and it is windy as hell...

the aroma of toast intermingled with hot tea is in the air.. and I am waiting anxiously for the moment when they feast my eyes and hungry tummy..

ah the newspaper.. nothing beats starting a cold morning with a cup of char and some news.. they go well together... I can't imagine digesting all those news in any other time of the day either. so it should come to me when the mind is swampy and digestive..

well..look at those clouds.. damn beautiful.. makes me wanna take a walk.. I could even take a short trek up the hills and get to the boulder up there.. one of the most impressive locations I ever had an English breakfast..or rather planning to have.. the English knew how to pamper themselves with such small luxuries ..  at least the initial adventurous hard-living ones.. and maybe not the rich lords. that puts the line right.as an Indian must never step into the territory of loving or forgiving the Englishmen.. isn't that right? u shud luv the americans though..they are the dream countrymen.. LOL. wat a screwed up world.. *smirk*

all this is nothing when the sight in front of me is godly.. what English, what jinglish.. any man would surrender to such a beauty..

ah I love breaking a bit of sweat in such a cold country.. the atmosphere gives me a godly aura - so I feel. someone else told me once that I always carry an aura .. sounded a bit of cheesy at that time.. but then who knows :)

well. here I am ...drooping off in my chair.. half in and half out of my deep slumber.. the moments of awake where u can control ur dreams and not know the difference.. today it was an English countryside morning.. ah ..

Requiem for a Dream

Dreams are awesome things, that bring out an ocean of thought, emotions, aspirations, fears and long lost memories into one saucy mix. I am speaking about the dream that you see when you are sleeping, not the one which doesn't allow you to.

One bad thing with dreams are that, however awesome they are, we lose them from our head, when we wake up and our brain starts working on real stuff. I have had many such dreams, where in I wished I could simply get back to sleep and continue with it, rather than get up and go to college or school. I read in some article that brain loses dream memory incrementally, after we wake up and concentrate on other stuff, like coffee or other things around us. It usually vanishes within half an hour of waking up,but really subject to the intensity of mental activities we carry out.

So, what to do to maintain the memories of a great dream? Write it down!! That is the best solution I have found yet. I mean writing onto a book, as typing it usually has the same detrimental effect as other things have. I tried it out today with an awesome dream, and found that I could capture more than 90% of the plot, along with the thoughts and fears of the author( written in 1st person,as all dreams are ). I am pretty satisfied with my work, and so decided to write down whatever I remember of all good stories/plots that come up in future.

I was really amazed at the power of our brain, which I had previously worshiped without experiencing it.

So.. dream on ppl... have a nice time! I might decide to publish the draft dream sometime later, here or somewhere else,as it is quite lengthy, with its drama,inspirations,suspense plots and fears.