Thursday, April 24, 2008

Home.

Well This Is Something I Wrote For This Thing On IAW...(Indian Amateur Writers... This Community On Orkut)

The flash of light awakes me. Beautiful. The rain and the wind, they've done it again. A perfect storm rages outside. People run about trying to stay dry. They do not try hard enough I say to myself. I do not have to try. I am not worried about the storm. It cannot touch me here. Another flash of light. It seems almost as though God himself is reaching down to us. He does so with a little too much noise doesn't he? For I see a child looking with awe at the light and then clenching onto his mothers leg. He is afraid of the sound. So much noise. Too much noise. But I do not hear a thing. Far away i see a man who waits for a bus to come get him. But it will not be there anytime soon. He shivers and waits, just shivers an waits. I am warm here. Because here, it is never too cold. A woman stands there all alone. Just waiting for someone she loves to take her home. I have someone i love right here. She gives me kiss on my cheek and I smile. I kiss her back, she smiles.

Suddenly, I realize that I have something that very few of us are blessed with. I have all that I shall ever need in one place. I have a sanctuary, I have a little piece of heaven. I have... I have a home.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Good New People!!!
(People Being The Few Stray Souls Entering This Lonely Little Blog Of Thoughts That Don't Make Much Sense To Most.)

After A Quite A Few Moments Of What I May Now Call Pure Inspirations I Have Begun Writing What I Always Wanted TO Write.

Confessions Of A Soldier It's Called. I Hope It'll Help People One Day...

Friday, January 4, 2008

Berlin, 2042.

Ummm...
Ok...
I Admit It!
I HATE The Ending On This One Bunt Hey!
I Can't Leave A Poem Rhyme-less Now Can I?

Berlin, 2042.


A child, with these headphones on,
A child, with his parents gone,
A child, with his pause 'n' play,
But a child, never has his way...

The bombshell rips right through the door,
Spraying blood onto the floor,

A child, to the ground he falls,
A child all around him walls,
A child, does not cry or shriek,
Though a child, never felt so weak

The smile and tears lay on his face,
His head moves to the Music's pace.

A child, does not die too well,
But a child, does not go to hell,
A child, to our God says this,
Where's my music?
Where's my bliss?

To The Side...

This Is Another Warrior Of The Light Story. It Should Tell You About The Anatomy Of How The Warriors Work...
How They Tick...
Oh And Aishwariya...
Has This One Gone A Little Off In Terms Of How Te Last Two Were Written...


In the dream I walked where a city once stood. It was dawn. I could feel the sun on me. Judging me as I walked to him. The Warrior sat there. His robe stained with evil. His sword was drenched in it.

“How?”

He did not look at me. Something I was used to. Not being cared for. Not have anyone want to look to me. Suddenly, I realized where his mind was. I turned. A figure stood in the distance. With a robe of light and skin as white as snow. He carried a sword of fire. Blazing, licking the outside of it’s hilt, it lay at his waist a sign of who he was. Though who he was was still unknown.

“Cride!”

The Warrior spoke first. He smiled a special smile for the figure. One of brotherhood. Of pure, simple love and not the superficial likings we face and give for so much of our lives.

“Neo. I see your child has joined you. Has prism passed?”

“Not yet. She’ll be around shortly. As for the child, he shall be at the side as soon as they arrive.”

“How many of them were there?”

“About fifty at the least. They walked with purpose. Evil is strong here.”

“T’was a scouting party. Nothing more, nothing less.”

A new figure walked towards us. I could not see it’s face though. The sun walked behind it. A Guardian..”

“Prism.”

Cride’s voice gave away who he was. He was a leader. A kind leader. The type we hear of in fairy tales.

“I see you made it before me Cride. You just keep dissolving those flaws don’t you?”

“Haha! I try, I try.”

Cride looked much older when he laughed. Too old to be able to walk or talk or lead.

“Prism, we do not have time to talk. We must prepare. They shall arrive soon.”

As Prism neared I realized that she was a woman. Though there was nothing to her that I could count as being special. I realized son enough though that it her Simplicity that made her so forgettable. Her sword was in a hilt that lay across her back. It was a lot wider than any sword I had ever seen.

“Yes. We must prepare. But first, the child must pick his side.”

And just like that, I was far away from where i once stood. I watched on as three Warriors prepared for battle.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

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.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

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.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

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.