Mission Accomplished...

Wrote this for something on IAW...


"CHARGE!"

The commander's voice booms across the battlefield. He does as he's told. Shells that fall from the sky do a lot of damage. He dodges one-two-three! The fourth almost gets him. He's back on his feet now. Ready to kill. He sees the enemy coming at him now. One shot, one kill. That's his way of doing things.

"Keep Moving Private!"

The commander moves past him. The commander's a brave man he thinks. Another shell dodged. He moves forward. Jumping over a few corpses, creating a few. That's what he does. Those are his orders. Reaching the bunker he looks around for a brief moment. The commander's lying dead a little to his left. From the corner of his eye a figure takes aim. Another kill for the private. Moving into the bunker he finds what he's come for.

"STOP! DO NOT MOVE!" He sees a familiar figure at the corner of the room.

"Stripes. You're still alive. Shit! I had my money on you dying yesterday!"

Stripes pounces. That's what they're taught. Move forward. Kill. The private drops his gun. Time to get back to day one of killing camp. That's what they call it. That's where they're all trained. That's where they become Privates. Where they learn to obey without question. To kill without concern. Knifing time. They fight like they've known each other forever. And maybe they have. They grew up together. Brothers. But orders are to be followed. He dodges a jab and returns a hit. Two hits. Three.

"Good bye Stripes."

The Final blow is in position. But Stripes has his orders too. A silent cut ends His life. He isn't that bad either. Stripes whispers as his gut tears.
"Mission accomplished."

About this boy.

Once upon a time there lived a boy in a city. A big city it was. Very big. To big for anyone to pay attention o this little child. He wasn’t really all that little though. He was, as he put it, large. A little large boy living in a really big city. The boy would wake up the same way every time. Disturbing sleep he had. But it didn’t bother him. He was accustomed to it. Every night at 2 AM he’d wake up. A nightmare would drive his sleep away. But nightmare or no nightmare he’d wake up with a smile… A big smile that said “Hello! I’m here! I’m Back! And I Am Alive!” to all that would see it. But obviously no one would ever see it. He didn’t care. He’d pet his plants and wash his face. He made the best of what he had.

“Now where did I put those books? He’d ask himself. “There you are! Now! Prepare to be read like you’ve never been read before oh not-so organic man-made compound!” He’d laugh at his own joke. Making sure not to do so too loud. No, he wasn’t all that funny. But he made good company for himself.

He’d read words of men and women and Gods till the sun rose and it was time for him to get up. He’d get into bed and put on that old sleeping act.

“Wake up or miss breakfast big-guy” A familiar voice would say.

“I’d rather miss breakfast!” His act was perfect.

“Ok then. Your choice.” The voice would leave silently.

He’d get up and do what we all do every morning. It was time to get started with the day. Mumbling and humming he’d go about his daily chores till he managed to reach the part of the day where he was left all alone.

“Thinkin time” He called it. He’d walk the streets of the city as he thought. Looking at what was around him. The buildings, the sky, the people and everything else he could possibly see. He would marvel at how well nature had made things.

He’d say “I’m just a year old in my head. Everything is just so new to me. I like seeing all the colours and shapes and thoughts around me. Observing them, analyzing them. It gives me peace.”

He led a fairly simple life. Minimalistic he’d call himself. But his thoughts never seemed that way. He always wanted to become big and powerful. He’d say that it was the best way to help. He liked helping. Especially when it cam to helping his friends. Yes. He had friends. He loved his friends. He always did.

Well anyway. At the end of it all, it would be time to go back to sleep. Time to rest, time to dream. And as he’d get back up at night with a nightmare running through his mind he’d smile a smile that said “Hello! I’m here! I’m Back! And I Am Alive!”.

The Exchange.

Another Thingy For A Thingy ON IAW...


I walk down the same empty lane again. The lane where we once walked. I glance at the the bench on which we once sat and talked for hours on how life was treating us. We talked of people, of things, of thoughts and of everything else we could possibly talk of. I see the trash can we threw empty cans of coke in. He would win every time. I trip on a slab of pavement that always made me trip. Except this time there's something different. There's no one catching me as I fall. I pick myself up though. I've learnt to do so since I left it all. Since I left what I once was. But no matter how much I change things do not simply go away. He passes me by. I look at him and he glances at me. A nod is all we share now. An exchange of respect. That is all we share now.

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.

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...

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.