Animosity

Welcome to this week's edition of the Loose Bloggers Consortium. This is where Akanksha, Anu, Ashok, Conrad, Delirious, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Magpie11, Maria the Silver Fox, Nema, Noor, Padmum, Paul, Ramana Sir, Will knot, Rohit and I write on the same agreed topic. Please feel free to also visit my fellow blogger's pages, and immerse yourself in bloggery delights. This week's topic has been chosen by Padmini.

Animosity.

Like all cousins and family, ours are deeply rooted into the ground with strong hatred for one another. Never have I, or even try to remember, a moment where peace was not a signed agreement, and free of public announcements of cease fire.

Welcome to Hastinapur.

The five of us, we just happen to have the best things life had to offer. After all, being born into the royal house of the Pandu has its perks. Being the youngest of the five, along with my twin brother Nakul, I could not comprehend what was all the fuss about. For all I cared, the elder brothers would have their hands full keeping our cousins and their issues at bay. I'd rather focus on the stables. My first love, horses.

Ah, horses. Magnificent creatures. They actually can understand what we speak, I talk to them every time I visit the stables. My favourite among the many magnificent animals there is Trishulin, a rare horse given to us as a gift from the distant kingdoms of the west. I named him Trishulin for it had a distinct trident shaped birthmark just above the left ear. A fast runner, he's my choice whenever I go hunting.

It was a beautiful morning; third day of the month normally would start with beautiful mornings and drizzle with sporadic rains closer towards dusk. Today, however, the clouds seemed to move in spectacular fashion. Mother always said to look for omens in the clouds. The faster the clouds move, it normally signalled a distinct shift in destiny. I never really understood her words. So did she. All will be answered, today.

Animosity.

I broke the silence what was engulfing the courtyard. Fear and uncertainty seemed to have made mice out of men today. War is imminent. Thus our ultimate goal to bring the Pandus down to earth will be realised. Alas, I see everyone quaking in fear. It saddens me, for our army has now been bolstered with one hundred thousand men. One hundred thousand warriors from Krishna's kingdom, the one whom they call God amongst men. Now I, am God!

I am God! I am God!

My father is still very partial towards his brother's brood of insolent fools. I despise them with love. The deepest pits of my blackened heart cannot be lighted by any form of light, for it is emptied with hate. And father is blinded, not only physically but in all aspects, not being able to see how much power we, the Kauravas, could hold once these pests are out of the way.

Pests.

Pests!

In two days’ time, our armies will march to the great plains of Kurushektra, and I am destined to be the victor. And once again, I will walk with my heads held high, the conqueror of the Pandu kingdom, and vanquish all those who have mocked me in the past. Till then, my brothers, all of you, let us all enjoy what is left of our mortal coils. Let us now drink, make merry, and even bear new wives!

Embrace your destiny, my beloved Kauravas! I command you to do so!

And so speaks, Duryodhan!

I yearn for only one thing. Their death. My victory.

Ascension. Power. Rooted in deep animosity.

-fin

**Author's note - I was truly, deeply inspired by the Mahabharata, and had this idea of exploring the faces and thoughts of the characters in the tome. It is just an interpretation; none of these conversations was recorded in the actual Mahabharata. Just in case someone decides to burn me at the stake, let me tell you it is COMPLETELY done out of creativity. ***

My Childhood

A new box arrived today, and it looks bigger than what it was the last time. Dad outdid it this time, for the last one, was a little boring. I hope its the one I asked for, please, oh please, let it be a castle set this time....

I rummaged through the wrapper, lo and behold! The Lego castle set! Just as I wanted!

"But Dad, why is it not Lego? It says, LOGO here"

"It’s the same, son. Go on, play with it"

"NO!!!!!" I screamed, disappointed on the choice of brand. Marketing seemed to have worked on me, a 5 year old kid.

Disgusted, the entire contents of the box were hurriedly chucked away into the bin. Dad broke his promise.

Lego is all I wanted, and yet, he gets me a LOGO. A cheaper cousin. Fake goods!

Daddy doesn't love me anymore.

I ran to my room, locked the door, slammed myself shut, and cried my hearts out te whole night. It was the end of the world for me.

Armageddon.

I think I must have fell asleep, tired of all the tearing that night.

I woke up to the familiar aroma of eggs and toast the next morning. Saturday breakfast was usually eggs, toast, and baked beans made Indian style, which is usually baked beans straight form the can, heated up with sautéed onions, mixed with Indian curry powder. Well, at least, Dad got it right this time. But I still wanted my Lego castle.

What would my friend think? A Logo set? I might as well not have any friends at all!

I dragged myself to the dining table, pyjamas intact. Breakfast without brushing my teeth! Now, this is rebellion to it's extreme. I am going to make a mission statement here. No more rules. I only want my Lego.

Dad was busy in the kitchen, and he's making coffee. Strong, black coffee. Dad's favourite, apparently it is the choice breakfast of cowboys. He loved his cowboy movies, and I think he would have been one had he stayed back in India. India must have had cowboys, for they surely had cows!

I pulled up a chair, dragging it's legs, screeching, it belts out the most irritating noise one could have in the morning. It broke the silence. Dad came by the table, plate in hand. Normally, I would be thrilled to gobble up everything on that plate. This time, it was incomplete. I refused to look at him, instead, the floor seemed to be very interesting at that time. I could finally see the intricate artwork, te pulling of the chair, the legs making fine white lines on the parquet flooring. I am now an artist!

Dad placed the plate on the table, and gave a peck on my head. I tried to brush him off, and it is then I caught something in the corner of my eye.

A castle. A completely built castle. It was magnificent!

I rushed over to the living room, and found a castle play set, made of Logo bricks, complete with knights and horses, soldiers wielding swords, maidens, archers on the towers, a working drawbridge.

But, how did it come here? Wait a minute, it says LOGO all over.

I ran to the kitchen, and hugged Dad.

"Son, I know you wanted the Lego set, but this is all I could afford for now. I just lost my job, and..."

I hugged him even harder, this time, I cut him off.

"Dad, Thank you. And I'm sorry as well"

I still have baked beans, eggs and toast on Saturday mornings, whenever I can. I don't have the castle set anymore, and so is Dad. But my childhood was always happy. He made it happy for me.

I love you, Dad.

*This is my first post as a member of the LBC - Loose Bloggers Consortium*

one crazy afternoon

Hips, locked into position, poised, ready to strike.

I now strike a pose, hair swaying from one direction to the other, even warriors, fear me now.

I looked down, on the parched ground that was once fertile,  this is where it all began.

One crazy afternoon, when i decide to start dancing.

Thing is, when I dance, it evokes the power cosmic. I have no inhibitions, no regrets, fear dissolves the moment I gaze upon it, my majestic grace simply rolls everything around me in motion. My motionless stance reverberates every single atom around me, I am now, the beat.

Dance! I am power! I am grace! I am time!

I am destruction!

I am birth!

I am death!

I am liberty!

I strike the ground, waiting for no one, but Shakti.

Shakti, you are now, me.

kala kutta!

I wag my tail, hunger begets life
We've been walking all day long, no rest, no stop
Yet I seem invisible to you, still, I wag my tail
Whenever you glance at me

I pounce upon your enemies, gnarling, rabid like
Expect nothing, well, some bits of your food would be heavenly
yet you ignore me, shooing me off with sticks and stone
i am a dog, after all

Yet I seem invisible, after all, I'm not your designated pet
I came to you by design
your coming was an accident, yet you choose to turn away
deliberately
viciously

tonight, I enjoy my bone, the one I picked
your collarbone seemed worthy
you did not ignore me
but you blinded yourself from what i was to say
walk with me, I will protect you - you blind, deaf, oaf!

now, I, the ignored dog
chew upon your collarbone, as you lie motionless.
the swig of your cold, dry blood now satiates my hunger.
thank you, o' Creator!

Just like the rain

In a time when the ship was rudderless, without a mast, but with some heading towards the promised land, You came by, reminding me that You were watching all these time, waiting for me to ask.

In a time when I endlessly asked, why? You never stopped me, instead, offered me new questions to be asked, new horizons to be found.

In a time when the throat was parched, You offered a chance to make better use of it instead of just drinking, but to sing your Glories, no matter how much it croaked, You smiled. 

In a time when I fell hard, you made it harder, with a chance to learn from it, and grow.

In a time when others needed some comfort, You helped ease their pain, and let me be a part of that upliftment, no matter how small the deed may be.

In a time when the bullet was next in a game of russian roulette, you helped me put down the gun, and laugh about it.

Just like the rain, rejuvenating the Earth below my feet, by just thinking about the moments we shared on the journey which I am still taking, you help ease the pain a little. 

I'll be bugging you a bit more this time around, and no more excuses of not being able to listen. 

That is all I ask of you. 

Just listen.

And like the rain, rejuvenate us all.

Rest in peace, my friend, and Guru. 

Phobia!

Tell me, o Wise man of the mountain, for I have a question

See I have come from somewhere quite far, just that you being so close

I delayed it on purpose

Ignored you

But now I come to you, seeking wisdom, seeking for answers

Answers, for questions I'm yet to ask even myself

By now, the Wise man on the mountain, lets call him Bill, looks up to me and says:

Homie, you came just right. Surprised I call you homie? what do you call someone who dwells in your heart all the time, and listens to you all the time, without a word of disrespect or rejection?

I nodded, and asked him back:

Homie, now I've got a problem. See, I think, I have some sort of phobia in....

Oecophobia? asked Bill

No, I love my home. 

Nyctophobia? 

No! I just turn the lights on

Homie, I was kidding. You have....panphobia!

Pan fried what????

Panphobia! you're afraid of something, but know nothing. Generally anxious, nothing substantial.

No, I mean, yes, o' great man of the mountain Homie! See, somehow, nothing stays with me in life. The minute I start to put some decent effort and TLC to it, poof! it vanishes. Saying this, my head goes down automatically and a gush of acrobhobia kicks in.

Dude, can I call you that? I say you got Panphobia, and maybe specks of other different phobias, but deep inside, you've gotta come over it man. Tell me more....

MOTM (Man of the mountain), for example, this girl I fancy....

Parthenophobia! He screams

No! Listen....

I say hi to her, she looks right through me

Maybe I'm not just good enough for her

Damn it boy, its your first time out

For starters to look at you is like winning a bout

Smooth lines and expensive gifts

Classy cars and shopping trips

Wining and dining in posh establishments

Credit cards and fancy equipments

Gold, check! Cheque, check

Just as I was getting to hit the bass line, MOTM nudges in...

Alright stop! Your rap, sounds like crap! Now get on with it boy. 

So yeah homie, i do nothing of the things above, instead, I offer unconditional, unparralled love. But I got this jitters man, that I'm not good enough... 

By the time i got the last line, mountain man is no longer there.

Instead, he left a note.

Dear Homie,

Nice talking to you, but i too, have Onomatophobia. Fear of hearing you say fear again. Till you get over this, I'll be reachable at the following number:

1-800-I dont give a shit.

Regards,

MOTM

PS - can you like give me a cooler name or something? MOTM? Bill? sheesh.......

Sajna re!

ah, the peace and quiet, sometimes, can be taken for granted, for a ride.

It's been close to 3 exhilarating weeks now. The warm fuzzy feeling inside.

I've got so much muck trying to wrap around me at the moment, like a warp trail, circling me in a tight noose, but this feeling, this warm fuzzy feeling, keeps me going. One cannot complain of the timing of all these, perhaps, another episode to learn something out of it, most so often misunderstood and ignored.

Warm Fuzzy feeling. WFF. The source?

Must it be a person? Can't it be a thing, or an incident? A gesture, perhaps, or a song listened in the distant past, a leaf fallen just on the right side of the shoulder, may even be a smile, or a brush with a friendly pet at the stores.

For now, I'll leave the source all mixed up. It is actually more complicated than what is above, but generally can be defined to an amalgam of all that is there. Positively.

Come back, o' source of the WFF.

last bits of being 30

Here I am alone in the office waiting for the kids to go back and thought to myself why on earth am I not attempting to put in any form of punctuation marks to this post but then who the hoot cares right I mean what is there is no punctuation marks at all will it really make a difference that will change the way it has been for me the last 30 years of existing and coexisting with all in the universe so beautifully created by god which happens to be the most misunderstood word in the entire collection of dictionaries around the world but what about the others who can't speak or rather living creatures who don't speak the language we humans do and what about people who can't understand languages at all in other words people who are audibly challenged and linguistically challenged but by the way this post was about me looking back in reflection of what has transpired in my life for the past 30 years and see where it has come up to.

Just like that. No punctuations.

Fast.

Confused.

Where, what, who, when, why, how. Arrange them, place the right words next to them, put them on nice little placards and ask anyone the answer.

I know...... it's never going to be answered the way you want it.


Happy birthday kid. Time to learn to put those punctuations where it matters most.

-Plain Joe

dancer's bells

is it too much to ask for?

silence, stark, heinous, nauseous

i looked back with no hope nor joy

till i heard the dancer's bells

dancer's bells

breaking that silence, tearing it apart in motion

like little daffodils swaying on a windy plain

i now see light, stark, beautiful, joyful

dancer's bells

with every tap springs forth a rhythmic landscape

inviting all into a dream state, never ending

it spirals, controlled, cushioned, comforting

takes you straight to folded arms

home sweet home

the universe speaks through you

a new language, made common in the fabric of time

present, past, future colliding with ease

remembering long lost embraces

a state of ecstasy slowly enveloping all who are present

dancer's bell

a window to the universe

a connector of souls

a manipulator of time

Cultural bliss!

It was supposed to be an evening of two dudes hanging out, culminating with a trip to watch a show, a friend's graduation dance ceremony. It ended up in a bang. Here's what happened.

We started off with tea at aJesh's place. Nice cuppa bachelor's tea (hot water, tea bag, some milk, speed, efficient, tasty!) and in all, about 30 minutes of freshing up time. We were all set to head out to Brickfields, our agenda being only 2 things : Some good food, and hopefully, a good show. Hopefully, since it is the first time I'm heading for an arangetram show ( a form of solo dance performance, done by the student of Bharatanatyam (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bharatanatyam) )

A good 20 minutes after leaving Ampang, we reached what is affectionately known as little India. aJesh pointed out that it should be called little Chennai, as there are no north indian elements here. He was not being pruddish, but simply practical. Anyway, we headed next to our main stop. Temple of Fine Arts. Home to two of our agendas. Food, and Dance.

Call us ignorant, but its a blissful state we were in at that moment. True to it's word, Annalakshmi's doors opened right on the dot at half past six, and we walked in, to be greeted to the sweet smell of indian food, fresh, spicy, pungent, delicious, divine.

A good hour later, stomachs full to the brim, our mind was set on one thing. Dance. Not us, we would have made a complete mess of the beautiful state of culinary bliss we were in. The dance was to be performed by a friend, on her first solo dance act. Sort of like a graduation day performance. We didn't know what to expect, this being my first time there for such an event, and aJesh's first one in Malaysia.

We led ourselves into the hall, took our seats, waited for the lights to dim, and then, it took us on a magical ride. A ride, we will both not forget.

See, as a dancer, my friend would have had enough experience from her days dancing Odissi (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odissi), but this was a different laddu to savour. One, being a graduation performance, she would be literally put to the sword. Traditionally, dance scholars, historians, renowned peers and who's who from the dancer's circle would be there to witness the occasion. Of course, we both do not fit in any categories mentioned, but we were clueless, ardent rasikas of performing art, in any form. Hence, our excitement here was proportionate to a kid having his first candy floss after having his tooth pulled out for bad cavities, aged 4.

Stage was set, musicians, heavenly on its own, all played live, by some top notch artistes, started the night, setting the tone for what I reckon would be an evening of cultural bliss. aJesh couldn't believe he was here, in Malaysia, savouring everything that is his homeland, Swaziland. No, India. Indian food, a performing arts temple aptly named the Temple of Fine Arts, hospitality that took him back there, the sarees and chudithars, it was mind blowing for him. Then came the Pièce de résistance , the music in the hall, and the sounds of bells clattering from the ankles, signifying her as a performer, ready to enthrall the crowd, and to come out as a full fledged performer.


And she did it with aplomb. Technically, we were both as lost as a monkeys learning physics in Einstein's lab, but the common things performers look out for and feel were all there. Dedication, feel, devotion to the arts, all were literally dancing in front of us as one whole unit. 


By the time we were done with the show, awestruck and literally blown away with the night's proceedings, we prodded off gingerly, taking with us that our hope, and prayers, for a friend, who's graduation dance turned out to be a blast, blossom into a performer with the humility to learn more, teach to anyone, and strive to become part of the cosmic dancer in union; a union of spirits, a union of mind. 


To Shalini, SALUT! 


PS - as Ajesh puts it, this being your graduation performance, must not be labelled your best. Greatness must not be limited to only one such act. It must encompass your legacy. That, will be your greatest show. 

Mash up - A tale best served with your favourite drink.

Warning : The writer wishes to stress out that sleep deprivation is bad. But, if you decide to knock off on that sleep, a little bit of creativity and another crazy friend or two wont be so bad after all.

Kester Low Toys'R'us is still a special place. :)

Bullet Murugan its home sweet home for clowns like us :P

Kester Low ‎'Tis all the fuel u need to get those pesky grey matter bemused again :) Happy.

Bullet Murugan happy as a bee can be!

Kester Low Silly ol' bear ;)

Bullet Murugan and where's that honey pot of mine? i need to add some to my bowl of porridge before ol' Goldilocks wipes them out

Kester Low U left the empty Huney Jar right next to Tigger hoping he'd shu d wolf away? :p oh bother!

Bullet Murugan well, i'm meeting the wolf for tea. He's a little sloshed right now with all that red ridin' hood and all. Tigger you old fart! come back with my jar o' hunny!

Kester Low Hehehe. Maybe he went to see the Mad Hatter. Have you come across the rabbit? We're all losing our mind, i mean time. :P

Bullet Murugan I know....he's been hopping around in my garden, trying to find some clock he lost. Says he needs to board the ship to NArnia, wherever that might be :P

Kester Low Wait... you mean he went... what... wait... but but the Huney Pot got lost... along with the Matrix. Now I'm gonna Nerf some random teletubbies looking dude who walks my path for almost(?) killing Prime and spoiling tea... which very well could have been with the Queen. So help me Pooh!

Bullet Murugan Pooh calling the Goonies..... bzzzzzzzt....tsk....(breaks):

Hunny...pot missing....Narnia...ship....Matrix....looking for teletubies...killed Prime...tea spoilt....Need backup....send in the Ewoks!

Kester Low Arrrgh! Aye Ewoks. Ze killer badgers... They need no midichlorian parasites. :) Oh wait, you know what we need... some Hot Wheels.... like the Tumbler! (Besides, Batman's got no powers :P) Now Pooh can boldly go where no pooh has gone before. What's some Vulcans when he can daily brave a horde of honey bees with stingers like Mohammed Ali. May the force be with ye.

Bullet Murugan Enterprise! Beam me up, Scotty. Get the Tie Fighters ready. We have some pirates to track down. Darth Bear, out...

Kester Low Cue Looney Tunes' end credit song... :D

Live long and prosper!

Bullet Murugan the beethebeehtbeeethe.....

THAT's all Folks!

Kester Low Oh epic! :D

Bullet Murugan we'll make a sequel later :P

Kester Low The Return of The Pooh :P Haha. Ayo.

Disclaimer : Loss of sleep, yes. Laughed our ass off before sleeping? well, I did. No bears and Ewoks were harmed during the process of writing this tall tale.

not an original post, just a song i like

Funny thing about music is, its like a lover's arm in a cold night. Just the right amount of heat, the right touches, and the right feel. It makes you feel good.

I'm feeling mighty good now, and in anticipation of something. listen to the song, and look at the lyrics below. Sing it along, if you can, and feel the song.

Tuu Jaane Naa

http://lyricstranslate.com

kaise batayein

kyun tujhko chahe
yaara bata na paayein
baatein dilo ki
dekho jo baki
aake tujhe samjhayein
tu jaane na aaaa..
tu jaane na
tu jaane na aaaa..
tu jaane na
hmm milke bhi, hum na mile
tumse na jaane kyun, meelo ke,
hai faasle tumse na jaane kyun
anjaane, hai silsile
tum se na jaane kyun, sapne hai
palko tale tum se na jaane kyunnnnnn…
kaise batayein
kyun tujhko chahe
yaara bata na paayein
(aaa…aaa…)
baatein dil o ki
dekho jo baki
aake tujhe samjhayein
tu jaane na aaaa..
tu jaane na
tu jaane na aaaa..
tu jaane na

aaaa aaaaa aaa
nigahon mein dehko
meri jo hai bas gaya aa
woh hai milta tumse hubahoo
ooohhooo..
jaane teri aankhein
kiya baatein ki vajah…
hue tum jo dil ki aarzoo
tum paas ho ke bhi
tum aas ho ke bhi
ehsaas ho ke bhi
apne nahin aise hai
hum ko gile
tumse na jaane kyun, meelo ke
hai faasle tumse na jaane kyun ooonnn….
tu jaane na aaaa..
tu jaane na
tu jaane na aaaa..
tu jaane na
ooo jaane na jaane na jaane na
aaaaaaa aaa… tu jaane na
khayalon mein lakhon baatein,
yun toh keh gayaaaa..
bola kuch na tere saamne
oooo… hue na begaane bhi
tum hoke aur ke
dekho tum na mere hi bane
aafsos hota hai, dil bhi yeh rota hai
sapne sanjotha hai, pagla hua soche ye
hum the mile tum se na jaane kyun
meelo ke, hai faasle tumse na jaane kyun
anjaane, hai silsile
tum se na jaane kyun, sapne hai
palko tale tum se na jaane kyunnnnnn…
hooooohh…
kaise batayein
kyun tujhko chahe
yaara bata na paayein
baatein dil o ki
dekho jo baki
aake tujhe samjhayein
tu jaane na aaaa..
tu jaane na
tu jaane na aaaa..
tu jaane na
tu jaane naaaa…
tu jaane naa
tu jaane naaaa…
tu jaane naa

And the translations are as follows :

http://lyricstranslate.com

You are not knowing

how should i tell you that why i am loving you
o beloved, i am not able to tell you
the talks of my heart, my eyes are explaining to you
you didn't know it, you are not knowing
even after meeting we didn't meet
with you don't know why there is distance of miles
with you don't know why there is a strange chain
for you i don't know why i have dreams
with you i don't know
how should i tell you that why i am loving you
o beloved, i am not able to tell you
the talks of my heart, my eyes are explaining to you
but you didn't know it, you are not knowing
the one who resides in my eyes
matches with you completely
were it your eyes or your talks
which became desire of my heart
even though you are near to me, even though you are my desire
even though there are feelings, you are not my, this is the state
i have complain that don't know why i have distances of miles with you
you don't know
you don't know, you don't know, you don't know, you don't know
dont know, dont know, dont know, dont know
you don't know
in my thoughts i have said lacs of things
but didn't say anything in front of you
becoming somebody else’s, you didn't become strange to me
see that you didn't became my only
i feel regretted, my heart also cries
it is decorating dreams, it has become mad and thinking
that we were met, don't know why there are distance of miles with you
with you don't know why there is a strange chain
for you i don't know why i have dreams
don't know why with you
how should i tell you that why i am loving you
o beloved, i am not able to tell you
the talks of my heart my eyes are explaining to you
but you didn't know it, you are not knowing

See the song, hear it, sing along, here :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXLr3rufiX4&feature=related

Wow, by far,the longest post, with the least own words. What I'm sharing now, is a glimpse of my feelings. A little bit more about me.