Abyss 8

Today I walked up to the sea,
And in the shimmering lights of the sun,
Three-quarters hidden amidst the clouds,
Saw the waves making small white foams.
The waves today, they were all mild,
Calm as the white clouds, no storm to bring.
The rage and fury that I expected,
The roar and the rumble,
And the high and wild tides,
None of them were there.
Perhaps the sea was getting old.
Perhaps it realized it was all for nothing,
The pompousness, the deceit, all for none.

I couldn’t turn my back against it,
Not while you were still a part of it,
And so I looked straight into it,
And in the distance,
Saw a head bobble up, and go down again.
I waited for it to come up,
Waited for a long, long while,
But just like the waves, and just like you,
And just like the time that goes by,
It never came back.
I shouted loud, and heard my echo,
The echo faded away into the ocean,
Much like the brightness of the sun,
Which was now fully hidden behind the clouds.

The evening gave way to a silent night,
No stars celebrated the welcoming of the moon,
No bright black skies to ponder at,
No stars to count, no smiles to see.
And I counted the grains of sand,
Removed whilst writing your name,
Which was soon washed away,
Just as it were to be.
The burden of wishes is too heavy sometimes,
And so sometimes we must let some loose,
A part of our lives, never to come back,
Like I’ve let loose the perennial wish,
Of your return.

Flee From This World

The night was old, the sky was grey,
Yet I kept walking through the fields of hay.
The sky turned red, the dawn was here,
Yet I kept walking, my end was near.
The birds came out, and chirped out loud,
I kept walking, face hidden under a shroud.
For hours I walked at a stretch,
None to talk with, none to walk with,
None to break bread with,
None to share mead with.
The meadows were green, and yellow were its flowers,
Yet I kept walking, I had to reach the towers.
The meadows ended, and I swam across a river,
My clothes wet now, and I felt a shiver,
Yet I kept walking, my end was near,
And everything that I held so dear,
Was stolen from me, never to return,
Yet even so I walked, never taking a turn.
The day was old now, the sun overhead,
Not a place to rest, straight my path led,
Me to roads yet untraveled, yet undiscovered,
Yet I kept walking.

For I had not a destination,
But a wish deep within,
To flee from this world as far as I could go,
And so I kept walking, even so.
By night and day, and day and night,
I kept walking, knew I did right,
By leaving all behind, whatever I had,
Did not care if it made me happy or sad.
Now the sun was behind the hills,
I walked across farms, away from the windmills,
I knew not where I’d reach,
I cared not about it either,
And death did not scare me,
Nor hunger neither.

The night draped the skies,
In a blanket of stars,
And only then did I sleep for a while.
Tomorrow I’ll walk again,
Cover many more miles yet,
Until I reach a world,
Where people are happier,
Where love is in plenty,
And where life is full,
As it should be,
No killings, no fights, no bombs, no terror,
For that is where I dream to be,
But I know that for now,
Such places exist only in my dreams,
But I know that sooner or later,
Such places I will come across,
And such things I will see,
That’ll make me believe,
That humanity still exists,
Somewhere.
Maybe not in this world,
But someday soon, I’ll find a home,
Where I’d love to live.

Return – Chapter 8 – Finale

Losses are what make us what we are. A lost cause this was. There could be no good ending to this, not even a satisfactory one. For I had thought of something and it turned out completely different, though in a way it had all been my fault. But so be it. I had learned to cope with myself, with the problems that I created for myself, and then never solved them for I was ever too afraid to face them. As I sat silently at Irtiqa’s grave, someone patted me on my back. I turned around. It was Shaena. I looked at her teary-eyed. She looked at me silently. No words were exchanged. But we did speak. Our silence had given words to thoughts in our minds. And we both knew what the other was thinking. And yet we kept quiet, waiting for the other to start speaking. I knew I should have begun, but somehow I had made up my mind to never strike a conversation by starting it on my own. And so I pretended to be dumb, looking at one’s grave now, while the other stood behind me.

When I turned back to look at her, I was spellbound for a moment. For it was not Shaena who stood, but Irtiqa. And she looked poignantly at me. “Irtiqa,” I gasped for words. But none came. For now was not the time for words. “Do not make a decision in haste,” she said. I asked, “What do you mean?” but by then the moment was gone. The face had now changed. Now stood my mother in front of me. It was as if someone had plotted to show me my entire past through her. “Come back, home,” she whispered. I knew it was a lie, a dream, a manifestation of my wishes and a by-product of my dreams, for the same woman had shut her doors on me only a while back. I rubbed my eyes. It was Shaena again.

“Here’s the key,” she said, “to your home. It’s yours now.”

For a while, I stared blankly at her. Only when it hit me like a rock on the head that I fumbled on the ground. “You do not mean what I understand, right?” I asked. I felt like shouting loud and hitting my head against the ground, but now was not the time for foolishness. “Give speech to tongue,” I shouted, “What do you mean?” She looked at me teary-eyed now. “She said you should come back home. Those were her last words.” And throwing the key at me, she ran across the street and I saw her changing into a silhouette and then only a shadow of the past. No, another death was not something I could handle at this moment. Not now. What had happened of my life? Was this the way it was supposed to end? Hadn’t I better plans when I first started? My head was throbbing now, and I fell to the ground. As the world around me started to fade, there was only one thing I repented about. This return.

Back to Square One

So after a lot of hits and trials and errors, I have finally come up with a decision as to what all corrections to make. The first thing I did was give proper titles to the last few posts, which were otherwise only numbered and gave little meaning to the post. The next thing I did was redo a bit of my OneNote categorizing, by putting things into their correct places. Seems like I am growing a bit more OCD’ish than I was before.

Today I made a resolution to first complete whatever is left unfinished. That leaves me with three posts of ‘Decagon‘, and to complete the short story ‘Return‘. Yes, I am sure you have already forgotten about Return, but don’t worry, I forgot about it too, so it really does not matter. So yes, I need to get done with them. I also have some plans about publicizing this blog a little more than I usually do. I might put up a page, for all you know. I am inspired by Terribly Tiny Tales, and I want to do something on those lines, but not exactly write tiny tales. I will have to figure that out later. For now, let me tell you a bit about my new wishlist. I really want to check out Windows 10, though I currently do not have that many GBs left in my internet quota. I might install it next month. I also had a self-realization lately, that I need to learn a lot more in Java. I was going through a tutorial and it amazed me to see that so many basics are still unknown to me. I will need to sit down with a book, and really see what all have come up in the new compiler versions of JDK, and get myself updated.

Talking about updating, I am waiting for the L upgrade to come on my Sony Xperia Z1. Anyone knows when it will be out? I downloaded a few Google Apps (Inbox and Messenger) which have based themselves on the new Material theme and they really look clean. I am looking forward to it. It will be a nice combination, Android L on my phone and Windows 10 on my laptop. Hope they don’t dismay me.

That’s a lot of talking for now, see you soon with fresh new posts, and even better genres. Have a great day you!

Realizations

Walked through deserts, and walked through rains,
Climbed up mountains and went down valleys,
Passed churches, mosques and temples alike,
Travelled to countries, and rode through villages,
And yet never felt so much a difference,
As to when a child cried of hunger,
As to when a mother cried her pain,
When a baby cackled in laughter.
Through dust and storms I walked and walked,
Until I reached the end of the lane.
And I walked back again, to where I started,
And I learnt that life is but a circle,
Serving you for dinner what you served them in the morn,
And it’s up to you to decide in advance,
How cold or warm you want it to be.

Return – Chapter 3

Breakfast consisted of a lot of catching up. “What are you reading these days?” I asked. She looked at me melancholically, as if an entire life ushered in front of her eyes. “Love Story,” she said. “The Erich Segal one?” I paused, “or the one we wrote?” I tried keeping my face straight. She blushed, and in an instance I was transported back to school. Her shy smile hadn’t changed a bit. “The Erich Segal one, you fool,” she smiled. We talked a lot about what happened in our lives in the past four years, shared lots of stories. She talked nonchalantly, her hair still auburn, a thousand clips placed tightly. It reminded me of the first time I had seen her, how she kept drawing petals and flowers on her notebook, and how far we had come from there. “You remember the Biology lab?” she asked. The biology lab was where our entire story started. “You think I can forget it?” I said, winking slightly. My mind kept shifting from memory to memory, sieving those which had her in them. It was astonishing how I remembered so much, when I had not given much thought to it for such a long time. She insisted that I tell her more about my college, and what I had been up to for the past four years. I could tell her the truth, this time I had nothing to lose, but somehow, I kept back most of the truth from the story. I told her a bit about my friends, and a bit about my college, only as much as was needed. We decided to go out for lunch in another two hours. I told her I would be back on time to pick her up. We hugged and waved good bye to each other.

The sun was up, shining ever so brightly. It was as if it rejoiced in my return. I went back home, knocked on the door, hoping she’d not close it on my face like she did a while ago. I had my plan ready; I would hug her as soon as she opened the door, giving her no time to shut it on my face. As I retraced my steps, it began to rain. It was only a drizzle first, a pitter-patter, but I stood there, in the middle of the street, rejoicing the rain, as it washed away the dust on the streets, and from the memories that lay stacked in my brain for so many years. It reminded me of the days when I went to school during the monsoons. I still remember the faint white tube-lights of the classroom switched on even though it was early in the morning, and the smell of the mud never allowing me to concentrate in the class, my eyes always shifting from the blackboard to the skies outside, black and grey, dull and gloomy, yet happier than what the teacher was teaching. And how that changed later, when though it rained, the only place my eyes went were her eyes, and the teacher kept running through huge courses I had no idea of. But that was a lifetime ago. Those need not have bothered me anymore, not more than the fact that I would never grow young again, and never relive those moments; etched deep in my thoughts, like engravings on stone, made with other stones, proclaiming love in the forts and on the trees, so that people around the world knew who you were; the wish to be famous. It was queer how we never became famous for our good acts, and some, like us, never got any fame, remained in the backgrounds, forever working for those who received all the fame, and yet I didn’t regret. And suddenly I realized, the rain had stopped. I needed to do some serious business now. And so I walked.

I went back home, only to find the door locked. I waited outside, for an hour, and another, and then another, but she didn’t come. Where could she have gone? She was here this morning. I felt an eerie sense of disownment. Maybe it was never destined to be so. Our lives had separated, and no matter how hard I tried, probably nothing good would ever come out of it. Our relationship was like a thread, once broken; I tried knotting it up, and making it one whole piece again, but that knot… that knot was there, and howsoever hard I tried, the knot would be there. To remove the knot would mean to break the thread again, and I had to choose one over the other. But the knot was hurting, it hurt a lot. And so I needed to break the thread, even if it meant losing someone dear, someone close to the heart. For sometimes, it’s not the act, but the repercussions and the consequences that make you act towards it. And something similar was happening here. I got up, kicked the door one last time, though nothing really changed, and strolled off. I had to be on time for lunch.

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Return – Chapter 1

As I sat there, watching the black of the sky fade into deep maroon, the sun rising between the clouds, more crimson than ever, and watched it light the sky into an orange, the chirps of the sparrows, and the caws of the crows who had left their nests already, the alarm in my watch buzzed. It was five in the morning, the iron bench on which I sat still cold, drops of dew settled on it, and on my coat, and the sun slowly started hiding behind the clouds, turning the sky into a black, and in a few minutes, the drizzle came upon me. The grass looked greener than ever, as if it rejuvenated in the morning mist and rain, the dogs running back into their shelters where they slept, and the road in front of me, empty. Only after the drizzle had stopped did I see old couples back on the road, some walking, and in some, one pushing the other around on a wheelchair. A guy in a raincoat rode a bicycle, had roses to sell, and newspapers too, but the papers were all wet already, and he didn’t have anything to protect them from the rain. He reminded me of a time long before, when I used to see someone else exactly this way, only the face was different, rest everything same. Or was the face same too? I didn’t remember. It was six o’ clock then, when I rose from the bench, and smiled at the guy who had been sitting beside me for the past two hours, never making an introduction, never saying a word. It was better that way, no one liked to talk early in the morning, he was out for some reason, I for some other, or may be the same, who knew. I had to return, I decided.

It couldn’t go on forever like this. I had tried long and hard for four years to stay away from her, and had thought that maybe we both would forget each other, get on with our lives, move ahead, never looking back at the path we had left. And yet, God works in mysterious ways. Sometimes, you run so hard away from destiny that you don’t realize you’ve taken a full circle back to where you started. Maybe in a parallel universe we might have never met, and had been much happier than right now, but then, I needed to live in the present. I needed to be happy. Spring was around the corner, small green leaves on each tree, wet with the morning fog. I liked the winter rain. It made the surrounding slightly colder, and nothing could be better than going back inside, cuddle a quilt around, sip a cup of coffee, and get engrossed in a novel. However, right now, that didn’t seem the best option. In fact, going back didn’t seem a viable option at all. Going back now would mean getting back to square one. When one has read a story one didn’t like a bit, he is less likely to want to read it all over again. I was somehow the reader of this very bad book, and it seemed that someone had just thrown the book on my face again, only with a new cover, or maybe not even so much a new cover than a reprinted one. Yet if I had to read it, it were better I got started and get done with it already, rather than procrastinate it so much that it would seem to have gained more importance in my life than it should have.

I plied a bus and took a seat near the window. A few stops later, a man got up and took the seat beside me. He was roughly middle-aged, and smiled at me congenially, which was perhaps the first good thing that happened to me in the day. I was too flagged to make a good conversation with him, so I decided to let him speak if he wanted to, assuming he would get tired after a while and try to lessen the small-talk. But when he stopped, I felt miserable. It was nicer when he was talking, and so I started talking to him. He was a father of two kids, he said, had been living here for the past three years and found this city extremely affable. I laughed at my destiny. Here I was, listening to a person telling me how pleasant this place was, when it had succeeded in giving me nothing but nervousness of what was impending. A few stops later, he got up, we shook hands, and he left. A beggar got up in the bus, pleaded for some money, and I gave him some. I had always been lenient towards them, perhaps it was because of the way I was brought up, or maybe just because I had a soft corner for everything, or maybe, I really didn’t know what spurred me to spare something for them every time they asked for something. Perhaps deep inside, I wished that if ever I had asked someone for something, may be they would also give it to me, just as much as I wanted it, nothing more, nothing less. But life, strange as it is, hardly works in the ways you would have wanted it to. When I got down from the bus, the place was completely new. It wasn’t how I had remembered it, and not really how I would have wanted it to be. My memories raked up the old place, and superimposed it on the current. The entire scenery looked misplaced now. I realized that time indeed does change things. It might not have been weird to see it grow into what it was today, had I been through it entirely. But right now it felt as I had time-travelled into the future, and that somehow twenty years had passed since I had last seen it. There was no smoke from the chimney of the tavern, instead air-conditioning machines placed on the roof. The trees used to bear orange leaves perennially, yet now they were all green. Something was different about this place.

Perhaps it was time to embrace the change. Perhaps it would be better for me to go back to the point where I started again. Maybe this was the way it was all supposed to be. If so, then life was giving me a second chance. If not, it would be the most terrible mistake that I would ever commit in my life. I only hoped that this time the journey would not end so soon, like it did before. My mind was firm, and strong as ever, but my heart wasn’t ready to accept this fate. But when it saw the spring, and how the trees bore new leaves again, it sometimes found solace in nature. It realized that this is how life was supposed to have been in the first place. Make, break, make, break. It was an endless cycle, and how much ever you wanted to get out of it, at the end, it was inevitable to get sucked into it. Because that was the difference between God and us. We could not control everything. Because if we could, then we would have been as powerful as Him, as stoic as ever, never wandering from our path, and never being forced to choose anything. But now that I had made my choice, I would live by it, and live it good. Or so I wished. I would soon set things right, but before that I had one last thing to do.

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