Pace

I fly onward, to an unknown place
I fly onward, trying to keep pace
Seven birds with an unnatual craze
I fly onward, to win this race

Arith

No man could ever match Taven's speed. He couldn't be seen when he ran. It was unnatural. Unearthly. He had never been overtaken. You can not outrun something you can't see. Not even the animals could. Not the hare, not the horse, not the cheetah. He was the fastest.

He was respected for it, feared for it, worshiped for it. The people loved him, he wasn't proud like the others. He loved them back. They would chant his name at the end of every battle. For they knew, without Taven they wouldn't have won. The tiny kingdom of Arith knew he was their strongest warrior. They had been able to defend themselves these last ten years wholly because of Taven.

Children would imitate him. Racing was the most common sport in the kingdom. Every child wanted to be as fast as Taven. They idolized him.

Girls would try to woo him. They would wait out on the streets for him to pass. He was irresistible, even the married woman secretly harbored a soft spot for Taven. They loved him.

Even though Taven didn't have a rank in the army, the commanding officers too treated him with utmost regard. They respected him.

It was customary for King Halio to gift Taven at the end of a battle. He was rich. Maybe even the richest in Arith. But no one complained. They all loved him. He was given a lot of benefits, the chief of them being freedom. He was free to do as he pleased. In turn he could be called for battle at a moments notice. This agreement had worked for the last ten years.

They required his aid this time too. Arithrian scouts had spotted the armies of The Alliance marching towards Arith. They would reach in two days. It would be the biggest war Arith had ever fought. The combined force of three nations against one small kingdom. They would rely entirely on Taven. They trusted him, they knew he'd win this one for them. The man with the magical feet never failed them.

Messengers were sent to find Taven. He would have to be informed of the war. The messengers were excited to be given this important job. Each wanted to be the first to find Taven. It was a prestige issue. The messengers would erobe remembered.

But they never found Taven. He wasn't anywhere in Arith.

The Arithrian hero, had failed them when he was most needed.

And thus the kingdom of Arith fell.


An exerpt from The Fall of the Weavers by Drowan Trott.

The Messenger

He rode hard, his fixed on the journey ahead

His clinquant cloak flowing behind him

His beast was focused

Because,

Obey the Master, it had to

He was focused

His Belief was strong

He did not complain

Because,

Obey the Master, he had to

He'd been riding for years now

His message had to be delivered
There was no stopping now

Because,

Obey the Master, he had to

Men were giving up on the Master

He had to stop that, he knew he was late

But the message would be delivered

Because,

Obey the Master, he had to

Humans would welcome him

He would be their savior

But he knows, to the Master

He will always be just

The Messenger.

The Chameleon

He is a chameleon
Ever changing, never himself

The Arrogant Red
The swagger he carries
Portrays his insolence perfectly
Overflowing with vanity
Concealing his humility


The Humble Green
He could be obedient
Respectful as well, and
Though he seemed hesitant
In truth he was just indifferent


The Indifferent Brown
He was a loner at times
Unconcerned, distant, detached
He was forlorn, I swear
Yet for some he did care


The Caring Yellow
The Excited Blue
The Romantic Pink
The ...


Was it all a hoax?
We may never know
For what his true color is
He does not show
Drop the veil son, they say
Be the true you
But no.


He is a chameleon
Ever changing, never himself.

In Whispers - Part Ena

There were no inhabitants on that land of despair. A band of raiders may occasionaly traverse it in order to reach other hunting grounds. The animal skulls among the scrub, the buzzard flapping heavily through the air, and the clumsy bear lumbers through the dark ravines. These were the sole dwellers in the wilderness. These and Calchas. 


Having been chosen to lead the Greeks against the insolent Trojans, It was Agamemnon's duty to please Artemis and gain favourable winds. The moon goddess was hard to please, but Agamemnon was determined. That was why he had braved the cold weather to meet Calchas the seer. The seer would tell him how he must please Artemis. He would do anything, anything to defeat the vile Trojans.


Agamemnon stopped before he entered Calchas' hut. He did not know what he would ask the seer. As he entered the hut, he heard a someone behind him. "You have come son of Atreus. "
Agamemnon turned to face a man clothed in a long flowing grey robe. Calchas!
"I know what you want Agamemnon, and I don't like it. But I will help you and then you must be off." said the seer. "I understand Calchas. I will not bring the wrath of the gods upon you too, What must be done? What must I do to please Lady Artemis?" Screamed Agamemnon.


He looked Agamemnon in the eye, his eyes showed pain, regret. "You must sacrifice your daughter to satisfy the Goddess of the moon, the consequences will be terrible child. But do what you must, for the fates have spoken. " he whispered. 

In Whispers - Part Dio

They walked together, hand in hand. Father and daughter. The king of the Greeks and his child. Her long hair flowing behind her, her feet taking each step so very softly, she was breathtakingly beautiful. She looked at Agamemnon and said "Where is he Father? Has he come for me? Are you taking me to him?". "He will come my love, but you must call out to him. Achilles will come to you when hears your beautiful voice. He will, of that I am certain." replied Agamemnon.

Agamemnon had to look away from his child, he could not bear lying to her. Lying to one as innocent as her, one who drank every word her father said, one who believed him.

But he had to, for the greater good. The dignity of Greece was on the line. They would hail him, as a true king after this. They would not question one who sacrificed his own blood to destroy the Trojans. The loyalty of the Greeks would be undivided now.

"Iphigenia, my dearest. You must now pray,close your eyes and pray. Ask Artemis for Achilles and he will be yours.". Iphigenia did as her father told her. She knelt, closed her eyes and willed the goddess of the moon to give her, her hearts desire.

Agamemnon unsheathed his blade. Looked up into the sky, with tears in his eyes, he screamed "I come for you, TROY" and struck. You could hear the dirt around him echo his words, in whispers.

The Tiber Flows

Caesar was a man, a mortal.
A man who in death, became immortal

A man who dreamt
A man whose dreams lead to his fall
A man who will be remembered, 
Remembered as long as the Tiber flows.

To bleed in war
In the hands of a foe
And then vanquish him
There could be no
Greater glory


But to bleed at home
In the hands of friends
And then die
There could be no
Greater treachery


Caesar ignored the omens
But that was fate
It was written, It is
Something none can evade
That night was bad
The Ides of March it was


Caesar went to the capitol
Expecting judgement
Instead Caesar received
Judgement of his fate
A cruel one


The seeds of jealousy 
Had grown long
Fellow romans saw Caesar
As a tyrant, a dictator, a monster
That was their excuse


And from Caesar's body
Did sprout, fountains of crimson
And as the great general fell
He looked looked the snake in the eye
And whispered - 
Et tu Brute ?

Although the flesh is long and gone
Whose name has lived on and on ?
Who in this tragedy has been wronged ?
Hail Caesar, The savior of Rome.

Ignite

Pain has been a part of me for far too long now. It engulfs me. It feeds off of me.


And Pain has a voice. A steely, hoarse and demanding voice. "Burn" it said, commanded. Burn I did. I burned down an entire forest. I watched the fire dance around. It was beautiful.

The pain did subside a little. A little. But it never left. 

It spoke to me. Still does. But I don't mind anymore. I ignore the pain. It tells me things. It tells me, fire will give you salvation. Fire is the answer for everything. You should hear Pain talk, it's very convincing. It says "We all have that wick in our head. All we need to do, is ignite it."

To get to heaven, I will have to burn. The gods will save a place out there for me. If the rest of them knew that fire pleased the gods. The world would be, in flames.

I sit in prison, waiting. Waiting. I have waited for years now. They let me out in a few days. And when they do. I will burn again. Pain will leave me when I die.

But till then I will burn.

Where is the love ?

Mr. Marth lived in California. He had lived there for ever; that is to say, he had lived there for twenty-eight years. Mr. Marth was exactly twenty-three years old when he married Miss. Rise.
Mona Rise was the daughter of a Mr. H.L. Rise. a very big name in the shipping industry. To ensure his position as heir to the Rise family business, Ernst Marth had courted Mona for nearly a year before finally marrying her.
But that was five years ago. The death of Mr. Rise had proved mighty advantageous. Ernst and Mona had the Rise Mansion to themselves  and now Ernst owned The Rise Shipping Corporation at the age of twenty eight . And then a year back Mona was killed. Murdered by her man-servant in her own bedroom.

Ernst hadn't known how much he loved her, how much he cared for her until she had died. He made sure the man who murdered her was sent to prison, but that didn't help. He still felt that emptiness.
It was just yesterday when the new maid had asked him the question he dreaded the most. She wanted to know if she should clean the room on the second floor. He sent her off saying he would clean it himself.

He would remove everything that reminded him of her from the room and then lock it up.

He opened the door. The stench hit him. Cleaning this room was long overdue.

He reached out in the dark. Turned on the light. It didn't help. The lamp hadn't been used for years now. It probably didnt work anymore.
It is was in this room. The two of them, had had such wonderful nights. Nights filled with love. This room had seen it all. This room had seen her die. Die at the hands of a mad man. A man who still hadn't given a reason for what he did. He went mum after he murdered her. Never spoke a word.

But thats what he had everyone else believed. Little did they know that Ernst himself had planned the murder out. He had paid the butler a huge sum and had gauranteed the man a safe life once he was out. Ernst had planned it all and he had gotten away with it.

***

He had fallen asleep on the bed. On this bed. The bed where she had been murdered. It was then that he saw it. Those two hands hanging idly over the back of the chair as though an unseen owner were crouched in the seat. Ernst closed his eyes. He hoped he was just seeing things. When he opened his eyes again, the hands had gone. He was hallucinating after all.

Then he heard a noise by the bed. He wasn't alone. The thing was still in the room. He turned and looked at it. It was dressed in red. The same clothes Mona had worn the night she had died, Could it be ?

He moved his eyes up to her face. It was her. She smiled at him. But there was something hidden in the smile. A twisted hungry glare. Her eyes, they scared him. The emptiness was clear.
He was paralysed, he couldn't move, he couldn't scream for help. He knew this was the end.
Her mouth opened and she began to whisper words. Ernst couldn't make out watch she was saying. She cocked her head to the left and let out a piercing scream. She jumped onto the bed and bent down close to Ernst. The same two hands he saw before reached out to his neck. Finding it, her fingers closed around it. She was too cold,strange, icy and from her stillness and silence she appeared to be in a trance. The spectre spoke to him, this time she was clearer. As he began to suffocate he heard her whisper- Where is the love ?

The Raven Song

The journey from Therinsford to Carvahall was long and tiring. I kicked my heels into Sticks, urging the tired beast into a gallop. I could see a dim outline of the village of Carvahall. I got down from the horse, tied it to a nearby tree and made my way into the town. The absence of sound or movement in the village gave the entire village an eerie feeling. As I approached Morns tavern the silence was eaten up by loud voices, laughter, songs. I was early.


***

I entered the tavern and found a seat in the far corner, Tara, the innkeepers wife, came up to me and took my order. I noticed a sign of surprise on her face. Strangers were uncommon in Carvahall at this time of the year.

I saw him, he sat at a stool in the middle of the room.

I patiently waited pretending to have fallen asleep, I knew he would not start this early into the night.

***

The cheers woke me up. Id fallen asleep after all. There was quite a crowd in the middle of the tavern. It had begun.

***

As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew I was right. I had found him. But I wouldnt interupt him. I would wait.
"You lot, are the lucky few." he said ."Not many have heard this one, The raven song. My death would be iminent anywhere else in the empire for even mentioning her name." He stood up, raised his voice and began just as the lady served me bread-It was many, many a year ago
In a place not so far away
There was born a maiden
Whose name, I shall not say.

She was to be loved, by all and one
Atleast thats what they did say
And so grew that maiden
In that place not so far away.

One day there did come a man
Whose name I shall not say
And he took this maiden
To a land far, far away.

This man was arrogant and angry
He was such throughout the day
But so deeply in love was the maiden
That against him nothing she would say

She did give birth to a boy
A boy whose name I shall not say
She was forbidden from seeing him
She would cry for him everyday

This maiden was forced to do things
She would kill, slaughter and slay
And even though she hated it
She would not disobey.


Then came a day
A day much like today....

***

He stopped the song abruptly. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. He stared at me. I turned to face him and noticed his eyes, they showed recognition. He remembered me! My place in history was set now. The Varden would be reward me greatly. I had found him. The weilder of Undbitr, The bane of Morzan, Our last and only hope- Brom.

Drought of Ideas

Is blood flowing through your veins
All that matters now ?
You're body being whole and healthy
All that you care about ?
You're not ill, not sick.

Yet deep inside, Inside your head
That nothingness fills instead.

Where are new ideas ?
Where are those thoughts ?
You people just sit there
All day, until you rot.
Get up, use that brain.

Take the time, and think my friend.
Light up that goddamn bulb inside your head.

The Beauty and The Beast

Some national parks have long waiting lists for camping reservations. When you have to wait a year to sleep next to a tree, you know somethings wrong. We left that September, everything had been arranged. Camp California. It was a well deserved break for both of us. We sang songs throughout the journey. Lisa's voice, well she has a raspy voice, you figure the rest out. Most of my friends ask me how I get past her voice. I would say - Hey men are attracted to women with a raspy voice, we think maybe she's done yelling.

We reached the park by nightfall. After an hour of setting up the tents and other tiring things that come along with it, we settled down for the campfire. After a couple of hours we doused the fire and hit the bed. Tomorrow would be a big day. Trekking , hiking, hunting and of course eating.
***
Her screams awoke me. I heard my name being repeated over and over and over again. Jared , Jared , Jared.

And thats when I saw it. It had entered our tent. A 6feet tall grizzly. And believe me it looked nothing like Yogi Bear. It charged at her. A bearhug. It started clawing her.

I ran to my trunk and pulled out my rifle. I aimed at it. There was enough light around for me to focus on the bear. I shot once and then again. The bear fell. She fell too. I heard her breathing. She wasn't calling my name anymore. I lit a lamp and approached the bear. A bullet had pierced its chest. The other one had missed. I was a bad aim.

I walked up to Lisa. I found my second bullet. It had hit her on her face. Her beautiful face. Her head was bleeding. Her eyes were not gazing at anything in particular. I knew she was dead.
The sun came up just then. And I could see it all clearly now.

There on the ground they lay, the Beauty and the Beast.

He Who Hears All

They moved in the night
Not so silently, for they feared none.
Destroying all in their wake, they wreaked havoc
They moved as one, they killed as one.

The behemoth army had risen
And we were all doomed.

Traversing great distances in minutes
They destroyed legion after legion
The massive giants cast enormous shadows
The shadows themselves drilled fear into men
We did not dare look at their faces.

The behemoth army had risen
And we were all doomed.

The human armies were no match
They tried hard, Fought hard
It was futile, for the Giant army was strong
Invincible, Godlike.
We threw everything we had at them
We lost all our best warriors
Palladins, Knights, Sorcerors
They failed
Not one giant succumbed at their hands.

The behemoth army had risen
And we were all doomed.

Those who survived
Cursed the holy one
We blamed the invasion on the gods
We assumed he would hear us
Insults do not escape ears.

A miracle was what we needed
A miracle was what god gave us
He sent us a knight, Strong of body and mind
A warrior in a suit the color of the night.

He descended from the skies
He rained arrows at the giants
The missiles pierced their hides
The giants fell as one, they died as one.

The behemoth army had fallen
We were not doomed after all.

We cheered the Black Knight, he was our saviour.
We bestowed him with all our riches
And pledged eternal loyalty
We loked expectantly at our saviour
He looked back at us
His steely eyes gave him away
His voice was like thunder

"Curse me will you ?
Puny humans you will rot
I will crush you now as i did them
I will do so, For I am god."

And yet again we were all doomed.

Just Another Day

Sitting on the stone bench, Anwar stared ahead. It was just another day- Anwar thought. Men and women walked about. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry.

Would she come ? He began to wonder. The afternoon had been hectic. In fact the whole of last week had been totally turbulent. Filled with mixed emotions now sitting in the railway station, he began recollecting the happenings of the last week. Ever since he broke out his love affair to his father, his life hadn't been the same. A weeping mother and threats from my older brother seemed minute compared to the treatment his father now gave him. His father refused to talk to Anwar, his father promised he would take every measure necessary to disrupt this relationship.

But Anwar had made up his mind. He had even decided what he was to do. He was even more pleased that Mary had readily accepted his offer. She was willing to leave her parents behind. She would come with Anwar , a new life.

Anwar's thoughts were interrupted abruptly by the noisy old woman who had just occupied the seat on the railway bench beside him. She was screaming into her phone. Anwar couldn't make out what she was saying. He ignored her, just as he had been ignoring the noisy Mumbai railway station the last half hour.

Mary's aunt had made arrangements for their stay in Chennai for a couple of months. Anwar was still doubtful. Though Mary had promised she was very much willing to do this, Anwar was still unconvinced. Just another week at work and we'll leave- he thought. Leave this city behind us and go ahead with our lives.

Anwar's train would arrive in ten minutes, at eight, he hoped it wouldn't be late. He had to get to work on time. Earn his last paycheck with a good recommendation from his boss.

His thoughts were again interrupted. Anwar could here gunshots. He looked around to see two heavily armed men walking with their guns firing indiscriminately. Anwar felt a sudden jab through his right thigh. Within moments he felt another bullet hit him square on his chest. His eyesight went dizzy. He could feel the pain, but what pained him more was the thought of Mary. How would she cope with this loss.
It wasn't just another day after all.
With that thought Anwar passed into the void.

There was pandemonium all around Chatrapathi Shivaji Terminus that evening, 26 November 2008.

Dies Mali

The Greeks believed there were two days, two days each month which were unusually very unlucky. The seers couldn't predict these days. You would know only when dawn broke the next day. These two, evil days were called the Dies Mali.
On hindsight Its obvious that day was one of the Dies Mali. But again how would I know?

The Eloctrocutor. That's what the press called me. I liked it. It had a nice ring to it. I am a man who derives pleasure from electrocuting people. They never survive. I don't stand and watch them die. I leave knowing I am the cause of their doom. My life which is supposed to be mine to control was never such. I have always had someone else make decisions for me. I never had the power of choice. Never.
Just before I send electric currents through my victims body, I always, always asked my self this question- Should I or Should I not. My answer was always yes. But asking that question gave me a choice, something I rarely experienced.

That day everything went out as planned. I picked this lonely bachelor who lived a street from my new residence. His quite nature meant he would have few or even better ,no visitors, making my job a whole lot easier.

I left as the clock struck twelve. The night was on my side. I just had to blend with my powerful ally. I made my way to his building. Picked his lock. Everything seemed awkwardly quiet.I checked all his rooms, he was asleep. The room was very stuffy, very humid. Which was unnatural the season being winter.

I unzipped my pack. Carefully placing 'The Killing Machine' , My fancy name for the wire which I place on my victims feet. The wire that would send such chasms rippling through their body such that their heart would stop beating. I found a socket and plugged the wire in. Taking care not to wake him up I placed the open ended wire on his feet. Walked up to the socket, Switched it on.

Fifteen minutes later I hit my bed. Sweating from head to toe. The job complete, I couldn't wait to find out how many people this victim would gather outside his house. Would the press be there? With these questions still ringing in my mind I fell asleep.

I woke the next day , the sun hadn't risen yet. A cold winter day , the sun would rise only by nine.

Something about this particular episode troubled me. My head asked me questions. What if the man woke up would he cry out , would someone here his cries and save him? Or will he have a slow painful death? .I decided to take a walk and check on my theories. As I entered the street I saw a couple of police cars outside the house. Ahh I thought , everything went as planned. How long before he died was the only question on my head now? Putting on my cool face I casually walked by the cop standing outside the victims residence. I innocently asked him "What's going on officer?"

You could see dawn breaking a splendid view. The screw replied "Nothing much lad, The man who lives here woke up this morning with an electric wire on his leg. Its a good thing he hasn't paid the electricity bill in a month".

Unleashing the Zeroness

Invisible I am
Lurking within the shadows
Unnoticed.

Hiding in the darkness
Imploding with ideas
Waiting, waiting.

My time is close
I will come out of my little shell
Conquer all.

You will know me soon
Realistaion will hit you
Ignored me you have.

Regret it you will.
Hello there, I'm Zero and I Dream.

Mon Dieu

The sight of my child sucked all the life from me
Tears rolled down my face
"What have I done O Lord, to deserve this." I asked
I waited in silenceI heard no reply.
She awoke, the drugs in her system wearing off
She looked at me expectantly
Hoping to find the face of a joyous father
Finding instead eyes filled with loss
She asked me "What's wrong love?"She heard no reply.
My daughter, our daughter had been born still
I had to tell her
Her eyes bore into mine, she had to know
"She was born dead." I said
I heard no reply.

I could feel her pain
She walked up to the open window squinting at the sun
She threw herself out of the window
I heard a 'thud' nine floors below
I ran to the window, screamed her nameI heard no reply.