The Preface:

So This Is What You'll Find On The First Page Of My Book (IF It Ever Get's Published.)
It Sums Up A Lot Of Things For Me...
Though I'd LOVE To See What You Thought Of It...


In the midst of it all,
One figure stood still,
Through the grin on his face,
I saw Strength,
I saw Will.


-Mehta.

In the midst of friends.

Well This Is My Third Proper Short Story...
It Relates To My First (Warrior Of The Light)
The Link To It Is Below:

http://fmppvtltd.blogspot.com/2007/09/warrior-of-light.html

In The Midst Of Friends:

I had a dream today. I was standing at a cliff which once faced a sea. There was music playing…
Soothing my mind and soul. I looked down and saw someone. He was standing there. The Warrior Of Light. He looked much younger now. Much Happier.

“I guess I found my soul” I said as I walked up to him.

“I guess you did.”

His reply was as simple and humble as he was. A rarity of sorts. He was smiling a wonderful smile. One that was of a clean conscious, pure of guilt and greed and pain. They say a clear conscious is gifted only to those who have a bad memory. But the warrior had a memory that was flawless. He remembered things that seemed purposeless. Purpose. I realized why I was there. I reached out to him with my mind. He held on to me tightly as we floated up towards the sky. As we rose I asked him,

“Where?”

“Ask thy Soul.”

I did. For the first time in a period far too long to remember my soul replied. It seemed happy. Happiness. I looked up. I saw clouds. I saw them. I waved and they waved back. As I was about to reach a turned to the Warrior.

“Thank You”

He was gone. I wasn’t disappointed. I smiled. Though I did not see it I know for sure that he smiled. Wherever he was, he smiled. As for my Soul and I, we had reached. I was there. Heaven. Nirvana.

I woke up. They were smiling at me. With smiles as pure as that of the Warrior. I was there. Heaven. Nirvana. I was in the midst of Angels, I was in the midst of Friends.

A Friend To Write With

A Surge Of Inspiration, so strong, so sweet,
Comes to my soul whenever we meet.

It swirls and spins, inside my mind,
Like a roller coaster, the fun kind.

On a parchment made of dreams,the letters jotted down,
The words we write together, can turn any frown.

The ink is put away, we say good bye,
You go away, and don't wonder why.

Good bye, no that's not the word,
Good bye, that seems so absurd.

"See you later!", you cross th fence,
See you later, yes, that makes sense.

I Know A Man

Ummm...
Yeah...
So This Is One Of The Few Poems I Write From Time To Time...
It's Spontaneous As Usual...

I know a man, lived down the lane,

I know a man, did not refrain,

From coming over, laughing, Smiles,

Always teaching never lied.

I know a man, he rode his bike,

I know a man, he’s one we like,

For helping, understanding things,

Lovely songs, he always sings.

I know a man, the door bell rings,

I know a man, He does not sing,

I realized, there’s something wrong,

He told me why, the story’s long.

I know a man, lives far away,

I know a man, he does not stray,

He left today, for duty called,

He left today, his nation called.

I know a man, a soldier tall,

I know a man, in no way small,

He fights today, those men of steel,

He hurts them though they do not feel.

Aakash.

So I Wrote This Fr My Terminal Exam English Paper...
Got A Good And 7/10 (Highest As Usual) It's Supposedly Really Good. Read On And Temme What You Thought Of It...

Leisure time or free time as we common folk call it is a rarity of sorts. As we get older our ‘free time’ is enslaved by the two evils of homework and homework inducing substances like school and tuitions. But being the fun loving, work hating, fat individual that I am, I manage to churn out two hours on weekdays and four hours on weekends from my busy schedule of pretending to study with concentration gifted only to extremely dedicated students and saints for the not-so-simple pleasures of my life. So here I go, time to let you know, what I do with my free time.

Mondays are good days. Easy going since no one is in total “Work Mode”. Good thing I’m always in “Work Mode”. After quickly completing my tuition and school work I get down to my passion. Mindless loud drumming! Nothing like a solo or two to have my neighbors want o put a bounty on my head. Sadly, I can only drum for so long. Within 30 minutes it’s time for my other passion. Eating! Snack time is always fun though not always because of the food. There are many elements involved in the making of a perfect snack time that include slapping yourself but let’s not get into that. After a hearty snack it’s time for India’s favorite pass time, no It isn’t cricket. It’s a special form of it. You probably know what it is. Everyone in a city in India knows that it is. You don’t? Hmmm… Then I’ll tell you. It’s Guli Cricket! Yes I know you think otherwise but Guli cricket is almost a totally different ball game. The best thing about it though is that one can easily play 5-10 matches in an hour. Enter Tuesday! Tuesdays are bad days. The neighbors don’t let me play the drums and my tuitions keep me from my beloved snacks. What do I do then? Simple, when there’s nothing else to do, the computer’s there for you. Nothing like an hour of non-stop killing games. You know what goes really well with one hour of killing games? Another hour of them! Tuesday’s leisure time ends in a flash. Wednesday, tis a relatively new concept for me to have tuitions on a Wednesday but sadly, evil leaves none. So I run from tuition to tuition till the sun get’s bored of watching us run around and leaves. Perfect time to meet the nocturnal creatures of the internet. More commonly known as “Net friends” When you talk to a Net Friend time flies. We talk of everything from chocolates to weapons of mass destruction. . Here Comes Thursday! Thursdays are Brilliant! Who ever thought of Thursdays should be given a trophy or something. With just one tuition, Thursday leads my fun brigade. Nothing but irritating my cousins, snacking and cycling. Yes cycling. It’s somewhat of a form of meditation on wheels for me. One is nothing without some time to reflect apon one’s self. Hello Friday! For me, Friday is a flurry of fighting five foes. The foes being, Tuitions, homework, anticipation for the week-end to begin, basketball and the internet. All of them asking for my full attention. Every Friday is a battle to get things just right.Weekends are easy. Four hours pass in a flash. With my full “fun having” Capabilities I enjoy myself to the fullest extent.

Yup that’s it, and if you ask me it’s the perfect formula for a balanced life. If you wish to try out methods of enjoyment please contact your nearest 14 year old fat boy names XYZ. Thank You.

Part IV

A fairly old piece...
Just revised it a couple of months ago so I thought I'd finally put it up here...

Once a boy who’d fought a war,
Went to death and said:

Hello O Death how would you be?
Would you by chance,
Be in glee?
Or can you now look and see,
All the pain and misery?

“Listen boy” Came Death’s reply,
Do you by chance, want to die?
If not then please leave this place
Go away without a trace”

“Answer and then I shall leave,
Do you not know how many grieve?
You come and plunder, loot and leave,
The pain you cause you can’t conceive.”


“Enough do you not understand?
Listen now, the choppers land,
Out they come those men of steel,
Guns and lead they do not feel,
Hear the cries of simple men?
Yes you do but only when,
These men of steel come from the skies,
All that lives just simply dies,
But I must hear them everyday,
I follow them in every way,
To happen due to guns and greed,
From their Hatred I must feed!”

The boy understood and left,
He simply could not stay,
Even though he did not fight,
He died the other day,
The men of steel, they took him too,
And away the choppers flew,
And away the choppers flew.

Death On A Platter

Umm...
Another On Of My Darker Poems...
Quite Self-explanatory.
All Comments Invited.

Death on a platter, just for you,
Death on a platter, what will you do?

Eat it, choke, die in pain,
But know your end,
Shall be in vain.

Or throw it, leave, far away,
Walk away,
For another day.

I’ll catch you soon,
You’ll die my love,
I’ll end the man,
Who is thy love.

So eat it, choke and die tonight,
Let the poison be your plight,

Yes that’s it, drink from that bowl,
Let it seep into your soul,
AND KILL YOU!
END YOU!
TAKE YOU!
My Love.

A Woman's Might.

"What?" He asked she,
"Were you doing that night?"
"Nothing" she said to him,
"Nothing that wasn't right"

"I know you've done something"
"I can smell it n your fear",
she simply looked at him and said,
"I'VE DONE NOTHING, IS THAT CLEAR?"

He then sunk his head and said,
"Ok it is all right"
He had to bow down,
'Cause he was against a woman's might.

T.F.M

Win

When people say you can't win, Win.

When the odds are against You, Go Against Them.

If you fall, Get Back Up.

If You Start loosing Hope, Just Look Towards The Light.

And Remember, Life Might Not Care, But I Do.

T.G.F

"Chuck!!!" (Yes, It's Censored.)

Chuck the system,
Chuck it all.
Chuck the buggers,
Who think you're small.

Chuck the rascals who have their way,
Kill 'em, Hurt 'em every Day,.

Beat 'em up, those teachers proud,
Make 'em Cry and Scream out Loud.

Chuck the guy who thinks he's smart,
kill him with a poisoned tart.

Not to forget these messed up schools,
their bugging rules that make us tools.

And in the End go kill 'em all,
Who think they know you well,
Try to kill th soul inside,
and give YOU their rotting smell.

Chuck the system,
Chuck it all.
Chuck the buggers,
Who think you're small.

Succumb:

I've been Hated, Underrated,
Treated like i'm Dumb,
But no matter what they Say,
i Will not succumb.

They Say that i Will not Succeed,
And that i hae a twisted Deed,
They try to make me Numb
But i Will not succumb.

Hurt me? Yes of course they Try,
They try to make me want to Die,
It's like they think that they're the Thumb,
But i Will not succumb.

So this goes out to all of You,
Know that no matter what You Do,
i Will not succumb,
i Will not succumb.

Another Short Story. Inspired By RDB.

Raj was a good kid. Though he was quite stupid i must say. The idiot never though with his brain. His heart made all the decisions. i was there the day he stood near the sea. The Gateway Of India monument behind him. How he spoke with so much passion in his voice. How Four Hundred And Eighty Two young men and women listened to him with loyalty that was blind to the fact that he was just a boy fresh out of school. He was 16 i think. When you're me, it's hard to remember people's age. After about 20 minutes the police arrived.

"Lo aa gaya. Here come the Gangsters In Uniform. Now those of you who don't mind getting beaten half to death by these thugs can stay. As for the others, no hard feelings guys. I'll see you later."

Now, normally i'm good at predicting things. Hell, i'm almost always right. The almost came in became because of my prediction that day. No one moved. A lathi charge did occur that day. One that was a matter of dispute for quite a long time. Out of the Four Hundred And Eighty Three Civilians gathered at the Gateway Of India in Mumbai, India
on the 4th of August only two survived that lathi charge. I'll be picking them up shortly.
They're going to die of "Complications" due to multiple strikes of steel plated lathis on the head. Good thing Raj wasn't one of them. These two have suffered quite a lot. Raj Died from a strike right between his eyes. All the officers that took part in the charge were accused of murder. Some were transfered. Some were Not. None were punished.

As for Raj, he's right here. still waiting his turn for judgment. His case is a complicated one. Look at him, laughing and joking. Not worried at all. I love that about this boy. sigh I guess i have to go now. The two survivors have had enough.
Goodbye Human. May You See Me Only Once.


--Death.


T.G.F

Warrior Of The Light. My First Short Story.

Warrior Of The Light

I Had a dream once. It was about a man in a white robe. He was tall black and had a sword at his side.
He spoke to me with a voice so gentle that it made me want to listen even though I was afraid.

He said, “Listen. It’s Time.”

For some reason I got up and started to walk with him. He held my hand tightly. It was dark. We were in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but barren land around us, land that had seen too much pain and suffering to recover. For some reason it was different. It had hope.

“Why?” I asked.

“Ask Thy Soul Child.”

“But I did.”

“And What did it say?”

“It didn’t reply sir.”

I saw a spec into the distance.

“What is it?”

“Your soul”

“What? How could that be? I should have it the-“

I looked at my chest. There was an emptiness where my soul once existed.

“How?”

“How is not the question child. The question is why.”

“Well then why?”

“Sadly” He said. “That’s for me to know and for You to find out.”

“Well then. I guess I better start searching.” I was smiling. For some reason, I still don’t know why.

“Goodbye.” He said.

“Wait! Who Are You?”

“Me? I’m A Warrior Of The Light.”

“Well Then Why Is It Dark Here?”

“So That You May Find Your Soul Child.”

I Smiled. He Smiled. I Went Towards My Soul. He Flew Up Towards The Light.

I never woke up from that dream. I relive it every day. Searching for my soul, waiting for the Warrior to return. I hope he comes soon.

T.G.F

I Had A Hero.

Ummm..
Yeah...
So...
It's Pretty Self Explanatory...
Would Love Your Comments.

I….
Had A Hero.
But He Didn’t Care.
And As I Prayed,
He Simply Stared,

I…
Had A Hero,
But He Let Me Down,
As I Begged For Mercy,
He Simply Frowned.

I…
Had A Hero,
But He Left Me To Die,
And As I Sat There Waiting,
He Said Good Bye.

I...
Had A Hero.
But Now I Have None,
I'll Never Have A New One,
For What's Done Is Done.

T.F.M

Ok, now i always wanted to create poems that made a complete story...
You're probably thinking that every poem does have a story to it but you see, the thing is that i've never read like 2-3 poems which tell a story. I did that here. I don't have a name for these ones but then again i don't have names for most of my poems.

Enjoy!!!

Once a father and his boy,
looked at the night sky,
suddenly father said to son,
"That's where I'll go when I die"

Don't talk of that day papa,
the day that you will die,
father simply smiled and said,
Death's not what you defy.

For you may cheat at games or wars,
It isn't that big a crime,'
but cheating death, now that my son,
won't even get you a dime.

For death will catch up to you,
and take you out in time,
It won't notice who you are,
And if you're in your prime

I don't care what you say papa,
don't talk about you dying,
I’m gonna die before you dad,
Cause tomorrow I am flying.

I'm flying off to foreign lands,
to fight our country's war,
they said I would die there,
That's what today’s meeting was for.

Then the boy smiled,
and pointed at the sky,
he said to his father,
That's where I'll go when I die.

T.F.M

Part Two:

She’s Waiting In Her Bed,

She Sees The Lovely View,

He First baby’s In Her Hands,

She Waits For Number Two.

She Kisses It On It’s Head,

And On It’s Tiny Cheek,

She Looks At It For A While,

It’s Late By A Week.

She Wishes that it’s father,

Could see it’s lovely face,

But sadly he’s away,

He’s been lost without a trace.

He’s off fighting a war,

That has no end in sight,

He’s probably going to fall,

To the enemies might.

The other baby just arrived,

It looks just as cute,

All three of them sleep in wait,

All of them just stay mute.

They’ll stay that way till he arrives,

Which will not occur that soon,

They’ll stay that way for two more weeks,

Till there is no moon.

T.F.M

Part Three:

It’s dawn and it is raining, it’s raining cats and dogs,

He’s quietly stepping, over slightly burnt logs.

He’s there for no reason, except to fight and die,

Never wondered what he’d kill, never wondered why.

For it didn’t matter to him then, not till the last night,

Till he conversed with his father, without a single fight.

It’s funny how things work some day, for better or for worse,

A shell just killed his best friend which just made him curse.

He shoots and kills the enemy, till a bullet hits his side,

He does not scream and let them no, the pain he can abide.

What he can’t stand is that he won’t reach home,

With his father he’ll never roam.

Today he might just die,

Today he might just die.

T.F.M

The Lone Wolf:

Now i've Been Trying To Develop A Style For Ages. i've Failed Miserably Most Of The Time But i Think i Did Good This Time. Temme What You Think.


He moves with grace,
With speed,
With strength.

With Life,
Within,
His Stifled Breath.

With Hunger,
In His Eyes,
He Dies.

To Know,
The Path,
That He Takes.

That Leads Him,
To,
His Startled Goal.

He Looks Around,
His Pack,
They Pounce.

A Feast Occurs,
They Howl,
They’re Free.

The Wolf,
He Ruled,
He Died In Glee.


I Call The Style(Hopefully No One's Done This Before) "Pause 'N' Play"

T.F.M

King

'King' is one of my oldest poems. i remember how i had written it in biology class. Ahh... STD 8th. Nothing Like It!

Written, given, read and bought
All done without a thought.

Yet there is a false notion,
of there being a magic potion.

How could he possibly do it?
Well he could and everyone knew it.

Everyone ignored, Cast aside,
The possibility that maybe he'd decide.

To make the right choice at least this once,
not do "evil" in abundance.

So since everyone thought the he would fail,
and wind up somewhere in jail.

He rose up and fought the assumption,
And now he's King, Thanks to no magic potion.

T.F.M

Impossible

Wrote This One A Very Long Time Ago. It Has Always Been One Of My Favorites. Temme What You Think.

Impossible! That’s what they said,
When Tom was dying on his bed.

Hungry groans were all we heard,
Dammed Doc. didn't even let him eat curd.

There was no feeding with needles back then,
Hunger was what killed most men.

But i persisted, I had a cure,
That pain he wouldn't have to endure.

Yet they did not listen to me,
They said let poor Tom be.

Tom has now passed away,
Today was his funeral day.

We'll never know if I could've dealt,
With the disease that made Tom melt.

Well forget it now, let Tom's Soul rest,
Yes, I think that would be best.

T.F.M

About A Suicide.

Wrote this in May 2007. Good 'Ol Fashion Dark Aakash Poem.

A cold drop of sweat,

Just ran down his neck,

The sea seems so vast to him,

From his yacht’s deck.

“I’ve had enough” He says,

“I’ll end it all today”,

“The sky looks so beautiful”,

“Ah! I Love May!”

No, I hate it all,

It causes too much pain,

Ending all of this,

Just has so much to gain.

He jumped without a sound,

Not even a splash,

It was the 29^th,

It was his birthday bash.

-Aakash.