A father born!

In the dark wet hole

under the broken wooden bridge

yelling and crying

Desolation was born!

forbidden was his birth

unnoticed was his death

remembered is his life

as a half blind kid

pursued by the beggar's red hot iron

for the over-sized tummy

from the ceaseless years feeding on invisible food

for the scars from battles outside

and the screams from the battles within

why bear pain of a sinner's pleasure?

why bear life if death's easier?

living in the streets among midnight women and wild men

learnt the feeble hand of a mother in his lonely beggining

found her...yet solace he could'nt

in the end,

what feeds a maimed soul

but hate and pain?

back to place of his cursed origin

to end it all...to die in peace

in the dark wet hole

under the broken wooden bridge

bound in a blanket

bright eyes shining

New purpose is born!

-"Willy & Sabu"

Yours, Now and Ever!

Bleeding remains of thoughts of you

fill my blood wit taste as ripe as breaking day

Spoken, silent, lingering words feed my flame

keeps me hanging to the path we lay

In your world, in your love, in your memory,

as a shimmering shadow from the past

Firm, frozen

unyielding, undying

For your hands to hold me tight

for your eyes to warm my soul

for your scent to breeze through me

for your life to engulf me

Find me here

always here

for you

ever young and ever thine

Alone,

in this life together we conceived!

- "Willy & Sabu"

Murder\Suicide

Hey everybody...its US, back to blogging. Me and Sir Willy.
Its been TWO long years at our last shot on education (hopefully). It has not been without events. No...not close. With sir Wingfoot, life is always an adventure, aye!
We've been thinking, rolling over on bed and under as to what to begin with. We believe that our creativity has quiet lost its gleam, blame the education ‘course. Leaves us no space for original thinking, except after seeing the question papers! But that is that, and lets not get drawn into that anymore.
What these two years of hostel life has brought us, is a sort of seriousness to story writing. Those days when Sir Wingfoot’s mind be as sharp as his blade, a quill and a parchment is all we used, to weave worlds out of nothing. Here Sir Willy interrupts saying, even today his highness’ brain is as sharp as his blade, only that the blade is blunt *funny*
Anyway, living with other people at his kingdom, Sir Willy has learnt that a greater level of satisfaction can be derived by making his followers PEEK into his highness’ brain and see the stories unfold. He whispers to me one day, ”Why not make a movie of every story written?” Easy at it seems, the most difficult job ever imagined by his majesty is MAKING-A-MOVIE!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYE-od0wcDM

The Video above is our first fling with movie making. The story of this short movie has been adapted from an unusual source of “Forwarded E-Mails”. We tried to keep the suspense of the story intact, while trying to get an emotion involved into the scenes. We, Sir Wingfoot and I, handled screenplay, trying to add and delete characters, events, deciding on locations, casting,acting as the younger bro and also trying to voice-over for the char that i play. We had to write the story more than a few times, then calling the directors duo for the discussion, always conflicting on to which direction the story must move. We had an entirely different idea as to from whose angle the story rolls, till we had shot the whole movie. AFTER the shooting of about a month, we had to settle for an entirely different movie in hand.
Anyway, it is general belief among all of us related with this movie and those among the audience is, that the movie is a GOOD first try. A lot of people have to be thanked for the support and their efforts during this period.
Bippo , for being very generous with his CAM & COMMENTS. Editing has been flawless.
Raka , for everything he has been throughout the movie, for the enthu that he brought in, for all the ideas he came up with.
Sayan, the suicide bro, for attempting suicide a million times throughout the month. Unfortunately, for all his stunts hanging upside down, none made it to the final cut. Kudos for the animation!
Detective Tao, for getting through with the costume changes, for not giving up in between, for accepting to shower before shots ^ ^ for trying to walk straight and for not demanding a dance in the movie.
Detective Ben, now Lieutenant Ben (no, not for the next movie, its real life folks!). For his great voice as the detective, for being there when needed, for accepting to act even though he had other movie offers pouring in ;)
Pandey Bhai Saab, Shilpi for accepting roles of being my dad n mum with no hesitation and for playing the role to perfection.
Aswini (Construction worker), also the music supervisor…for helping us get the people when we needed.
Haati Ravi (Watchman) for his splendid acting, and for holding his breath during shooting so he could fit into the watchman costume * *
Guru (Neighbor), for the easy shot, Vivian (Dhobi) for bearing with us, shakti for his bike, Dr.Thamarai Selvan for his office, the students of our Department of Management Studies at NIT and everybody else I’m missing out on for their encouragement…

PEACE be with you!

PSsst!

Elle led me deep into the woods. By a shallow stream,she stopped.

"There", she squeaked, raising on her hind legs.

I nodded.

The stream led into a dungeon."You're doing this, Prince?"

One last wink at the retreating mouse, then i sneaked in.

The Low dungeon became a cave and evolved into a thundering underground waterfall, lit by just a hole high above.Random steps down, i found IT. Camouflaged to the grim background, it lay there deep in slumber. The huge form breathing created ripples in the water.Sheathing sword, i hooked the double arrow.

Aimed, pulled and released.

STRIKE ONE.

The giant FROG woke with a cry. Lunar eyes found the tiny rebellian. Long tongue lashed out and my bow fell apart.Evil grin settled.

I was not done yet.
Shield and sword, i galloped towards it, with all my might.It leaped high into the air, bound towards my tiny form....its filght covered all distance...and its fall is about to squash me...

"Psst....Psst....FourB....fourth....FOURTH?"

I looked down.

4B. Who opposed the Moghal Dynasty?

I was making history alright! ;-)

PRINCESS

Frozen hands grip my heart
Heavy guilt burns my eyes
I lie down cuddled and shut them tight
Even tears fail in shame of being mine.

A year now has passed
But the memory, the pain...the loss
That moment of pleasure and days of indecision
Is like but yesterday.

I dream of her coming out of me
Kicking....screaming
With bright green eyes, her father's nose,
Brown curly hair, upturned lips....

I watch her grow...
Into a beautiful little PRINCESS
Dancing in her white frock
Like a flickering light, far upon the blue sea.

And there she remains forever
As i stop dreaming
As i stop breathing
Held in that shy smile of a daughter

MY daughter
Who had never been...

FIre!

It ai'nt a tough call.

With a broke father and a never-home mom,

Ai'nt a tough call at all.

Fate hung to my boat's sail,

No food, no coins, just my violin case,

And a fiery urge to follow my heart's trail.

Beaten, bruised, bleeding, i woke to the evening moon,

In the city of hanging dreams, and sweared to self;

"I'll rule the radio soon"

Cleaned tables, walked dogs and ran errands a few,

Survived weeks on raw fish and stolen eggs,

with haystacks to warm the tired night's dew.

Years down, an odd chance hit to play the midnight blues,

My Lord had pressing issues on hand i presume,

for I made music, while powercrisis made the news.

YET....

The melody of the wind,

Ignites a fire within,

that consumes all regrets and pain,

and leaves an unfliching armour....

of humour and HOPE!

Sheep Life!

I skipped the wall,

Quit the job.

Burnt the proof,

Of a "ME" who was!

Sick of the tyranny

Of routine and uniformity

Caught in the play

Of plugged, machined, daily living.

I fled,

From the sheep;evergrazing on wafers green.

From the shepard;just another sheep, fat and mean.

I ran, I ran, I ran...

To find a way to fly.

To shake aside the shadow of Black & White.

Walked among proud beasts,besides the sheep for once.

And swam against the tide.

I dreamt under my starry cousins.

And fought to live my dreams.

And so goes the story,

a myth, now a legend,

of a mole among YOU sheep!

The Last Shrub

Year-2089

The World is in war.
They burnt, they dug, they slew and they killed us all....a little later before they realised,they need us.

One Survived....

I lay hid, listening to the stream who brings me grievings of life that's left....

She tells me;

Of her fair cousins running red.
Of the stench of decay and death.
Of bodies...half burnt...half burried.
Of children, whose mothers wont see them become men.

And of MEN.....mad wild men.....seeking glory among graves....

I see the red sun....and i see my mother having the last laugh.

Alas! As last of my seeds drop...
I wish...
I wish...I could be EVERGREEN.
I wish...men had never been.

Magic

My eyes went blind with tears

Of not pain

Of not loss

Neither joy

Nor fear

But by the memory of those years

Clinging to the tip of my father's robe,

Wandering around farms,

Upon yellow hills,

Through sea and heavy mist.

On and On.

Singing our own song...

When a secret sip of his mead,

Or to kill a game by his blade,

Were the innocent dreams i relished to aim.

Tonight,

When sorrow becomes my shadow,

And grief makes it hard to swallow.

A walk down the line,

Of a life left so far behind,

Feels like heavenly dew,

flowing down the desert of my throat.

Such is the MAGIC,

My childhood has bestowed.

Conversation

Drooling monsters of my dreams turned to Fairies.

Getting wet in the rain, won over hot coffee by the fireside.

"Sure", always said my tongue, while "Cant!" screamed my mind.

By the window, beneath the moon, fetched me sleep. My AC failed.

Ducks and Doves amused me. And Dogs stared at me, I smiled.

Thoughts learnt to travel as SMS, and wishes, calls.

I called 3, a crowd.

And my heart learnt to live of its own.

HOW?...you ask....

Before the sea, beside my rigid self,

"Start a Conversation”, said she.

I did.

And so it all began...

as I ended up, confessing,

"I Love You".

Fireside Ballad of the Wings'of' Old

Aeons ago, hmm, so long ago,

Noon sun bright, my WINGS would glow.

Unto mounts, upon blue sea,

Carried them I, proud and glee.

Merry stirred my flight all day,

Living and dead alike, found me gay.

Blood-red blade, bow and arrow,

Riding a Dragon, came sorrow.

One spew fire, other harpooned spear,

that burnt my rear, and heart bled with fear.

Swift wing, quick wit, bourne by haste,

bound towards the clouds, where lay my fathers great.

Whirling, dodging, yelping and yelling,

they found my calling, and poured down hurling.

Slit! Rip! Scratch! Slash!

Valor and courage, stunned the rider and wormling,

and cowering they flew, like the wind of the MORNING.

Smile

As tears rolled down my cheeks,momma took my hand, caressed my palms...& asked me.
Why i cant ride a Broom,momma? Why dont the trees fly?Why do the birds run way from me?Why i cant wear a robe to school? Where's the Oilphaunts? the Unicorn..fairies,..the Golems??Why am i not ruled by Kings so great?Where are the wizards with Fireworks?And the queen on the frozen throne?What of the Elves and the gruffy Dwarves?...Treasure,Gold...and MAGIC,momma??
She gave me a hug, put the blanket over and kissed me GoodNight.
That night i saw through the window, and faced a grim Moon staring back.For reasons unknown i smiled at it with my wet cheeks...and i found an overwhelming Hope in my little chest...when the MOON smiled back...

King Of The Moaning Dwarves!

Was born half a foot,

And grew just a bit.

My mum named me Ralph,

But the others knew not for what it was.

At 5, the Dog ate my left ear,

Mum cried, for why i went near.

But all i did was just walk by,

for the Dog to take me a Rabbit Pie.

Bald by 12, credit my cousin's craze,

for she took me cute,with my hair ablaze.

Clown of my own play,

Rock in my own Clay.


As the heaven took my mum away,

Away i ran the very next day.

If Brutal ruled half my life,
Peace, i forced in the other half.

At 90, when i still breathe,
I am, but 3foot full of Wisdom and Truth

And Joy as much, as my CRIPPLED BODY can hold!

Borrowed By The Devil

I lay there, beneath the street light, at the junction of my busy city. I was moving, trying to stand, but wasn’t conscious. My face looked stretched, pale eyes drawn in, heavy lids, lips dry and swollen, shabby clothes, and my hair looked unwashed since my birth.

It was me alright. But I did not feel the pain which looked obvious for such a body, instead I felt shame. I wasn’t in control of my own self I was watching. But how am I watching my own self? No clue. I could feel the breathing, smooth and easy, never like mine. I did not expect seeing myself in such a way. Least, I wanted others to see me this way.

My body stood, staggered and fell flat. I wasn’t beaten, but I was bleeding; and my watching form was weeping. Its heart was heavy with grief, throat filled with boulders of sadness. Hard resolve kept this form standing right there, while others walked past my sprawling body, missing not a chance to express their disapproval.

I wasn’t perfect. No, not half as perfect as I believed myself to be. My friends thought I was weird. I despised them. Teachers advised. I took no heed. Mom cried, dad threatened. But I rejected them all. I was ahead of their time. I was different and I was proud about that. Until now…when I see my shut eyes displaying fake peace; my insanitary body displeasing a diseased dog. I did not believe when they said to me, but when I see now, I realize. I am a GOD-DAMN-ADDICT!!! No matter which term you prefer to use.

Warm tears crept down the jaws of my watching form. I could feel its feelings. So I understood that the form must really be close to me, for it felt a terrible loss at the sight of my body. I, which is the active me, moved towards my body. I stood there for a moment and lowered myself to touch my body’s shoulders. No reply. I lifted its face and it slowly opened its eyes. It blinked furiously. Its vision must be bleary, I thought. I smoothly pushed its hair behind to see his face clearly. The next second, my watching form broke into terrible sobs. It shook with distress. My chest swelled with sorrow. My body has gone through physical pain. Yes, and I’ve borne it to live the next day. But this pain was burning me inside-out from the depths of my heart; and I could not bear this a second more.

But my watching form did. It endured the pain, it controlled its emotions. Its wisdom washed me over with relief, and it spoke “Come, let’s go home.” I knew this voice. But my memory would not travel beyond the illumination of the street light. It failed me.

My body looked at me, my watching form, and pulled back suddenly. It dragged itself far from me. It did not recognize me. It did not recognize its only savior. It refused its salvation. “Oh god” I cried, “How long will I run, far from every good that came my way, seeking a moment’s pleasure in exchange for an eternity of pain which burdens not me alone, as the rightful cause, but even others who hardly shied at being by my side, no matter how wrong I was.”

As I closed my eyes, I left my watching form and was back inside my crumpled body. Back to struggled breathing, back to the pungent stench, back to the crippled conscious. But now I had a clear conscience, and I needed nothing more.

As I looked at the person before me, kneeling, like he was pleading me, I sensed my essence return. No matter what I had said about him, what I had done to him, he was always there, trying to explain me just one thing that took me a lifetime, an ocean of tears and a planet of pain to learn by myself.

I held to my father’s fingers as he helped me return home alas…

Lifeless Life

He had never been here before. The sea ahead went on and on and on….never ending and the sands around was the only other thing left which too had no end. Comforting himself to the warm shore, he started to think. What is this place? How did he come here? Where are the others??? Then slowly but sharply it struck him- HE WAS DEAD……. How? A brutal accident.

Slowly memories flooded his mind and he sunk into them, having nothing else to do. He did not feel the passing of time. There was no dawn, no dusk, no rain, no storm, no hunger, no pain-Just the sea, the sand and him. He accepted the fact of being dead. But what now? Is this all about being dead? What about the Heaven and Hell? Or was he already in one of them? He got no answers.

Time passed on… The sea remained calm, the sand sand and him him. Then one fine day, he heard a voice, “Good Morning”. There was no one around, so he looked to the sky and replied, “So its morning now?”

The voice laughed, “No, not for you”

“I see. You are God?”

“Well…. You may call so, but I am just you”

He did not understand, but thought not to enter into complexity of the matter. So he moved ahead….as always.

“I suppose I am dead. So…..What now? What do I do?

“How old are you?” asked the voice business like.

“35”

“What did you do these 35 years?”

“Well…..many things”

“Namely…?”

“Ah…I studied, I learnt various things, then I worked, earned and…married and when all was going fine, I am dead!”

“Hmm…this was all you’ve been doing for 35 years?”

“You want me to account for every day I lived?”

“No. Didn’t your neighbor do the same? Your father, your grand father, your boss, your servant”

“Well….yes, so?”

“So you are the same as any”

“No, I am quite intelligent than most of them and…. and had worked all my way from scrap. I am the only cause and reason for what I am today.”

“What did you work for?”

“Well….to earn. To live happily”

“What did you earn?”

“money, of course. Not a penny from my father or in-law”

“Money? The piece of paper that you people made?"

“yes…..but...”“you studied till you were 22 and worked till 35, only to acquire that piece of paper?”

“Its not just a piece of paper. Its a medium of acquiring things that you need, that could make your life easy and joyful.”

“So you enjoyed your life?”

“Yes, I certainly did”“What did you enjoy the most?”

“I love writing, reading, traveling……”

“Then I assume you spent most of the time doing these activities?”

“No, my work would not permit that. I wrote when I found time, which wasn’t much. Traveling only on business……but that’s how life is. You can’t have all you love to have.”

“You loved your work?”

“That gave me money….”

“So you had money, but no time to do what you loved to do”

“In a way…..Yes.”

“Then what was the purpose of earning money, which could not give you the love of your life?”

He remained silent….and the voice continued.

“I see that you’ve spent half of your life in studies that had hardly got anything to do with the rest of your life???”

“Because that’s what they taught us in schools…..”

“No. Because that was what YOU chose”

“Had I chosen different field, I would face the same things there. There isn’t much change in any.”

“But what if you had chosen the field you would have loved to be in?”“

Writing……? I would have not earned much”

“Fool. You would have earned the love of your life…and enough of your money to live with.”

“But I was not good enough in writing”

“Were you, when you started to work?”

Silence again….the voice continued.

“Success always follows perfection. But you can never perfect, what you don’t love. Every being is born for a purpose. To find that, you will need and get help, but to follow it is in your own hands.”

“But I am dead”

“Are you……?”

He woke up to find himself again in a new surrounding-this time a Hospital, his wife beside him. The doc said it’s a miracle, an act of God that he survived, but still got his fees paid.

He was in care for a few days. Longer days, they were, when he pondered silently on the same question day and night. But before long, his cell rang, "Morning John…(blah)……… so when do you return?”

He was silent.....

Then replied, “Right away sir. Update me.”
It’s not often that people realize what to do in life…… but when they do realize they, lack the will to follow it. Give life a chance. The world is full of people who had already done things you do now…. Be different. Choose your love and it shall see to your life.