Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Dreams of a lost soul




                                                
             I sat at the edge of the beach, looking at the bright red mass, rising up from under the ocean, far away at the other end. It was erringly quiet and calm, amidst the mild orange red sky. I wondered where everyone else is. I cast a glance around, but could not find anyone. There were some footsteps left on the sands from yesterday I assumed.

     As I watched, a huge wave rolled down my way and washed my feet and swept away all the footprints left over. The sands glistened as the first rays of light touched the shores. A cool breeze was blowing across and made the whole atmosphere cool.

      Suddenly, a flock of birds flew over, ringing the whole environment with a cacophony of sounds. I sat there watching the beauty of the nature and appreciating the mastery, imagination and skill of the artist who created this beautiful scenery.


      I kept staring at the ocean and enjoying the cool weather and awe inspiring beauty, oblivious of the worldly tensions, worries and duties. I longed to sit here for the rest of the day, enjoying the scenic beauty.

      As I sat there, enjoying myself I felt of a presence of someone behind. I was too engrossed with myself that I did not cared to turn around and sat there, plunged in the reverie of emotions.

      Whoever it was, he/she was sitting back quietly, like he is not there. After several seconds, I became curious and turned my head to look at the person. As soon as I turned, I saw a young woman sitting a few feet away from me. She was staring intently towards the ocean and I assumed that she was also spell bound by the natural beauty.

    As I looked at her closely, I realized that she was as beautiful as the picture. She fits perfectly in the backdrop of such scenic beauty. Her hair blew in the wind and fell over her face, but she did not make any move to put them away. She just sat on the sand with her hands crossed around her legs. She had pale skin and long hairs.

    I wondered where she came from so early; I had never seen her anywhere before. She sat there still, but she was not interested in watching the sunrise. Her mind was somewhere else, lost in some utopian dreams.

       But then, something caught my eyes. There was a sparkle in her cheek, but it was not of happiness. Then I looked at her eyes and gasped. Her eyes were covered in tears. Tears flowed all over her face, she was crying incessantly. She did not come here to enjoy the beauty of the rising sun, but to mourn her dear ones. Years of pain, sorrow, betrayal, death and anxieties of the world came flooding through her eyes.

      Suddenly all the serenity, peace and excitement faded away, and in its place there was only anxiety, sorrow and pain. Sadness loomed over my heart. I looked at the woman sitting beside me and wondered, whether there is only pain in this world.

Just then, I tore my gaze from her and looked around. It was no longer bright and beautiful, but there was only darkness around, pitch black darkness. It was no more beautiful, no more melodious songs of beautiful birds, no more the cool breeze beside the ocean, no more happiness around; instead there was just a desert full of sands and blackness.

   But then, there were no happiness and hope anymore in my heart either. It was filled instead with sorrow, pain and anxiety of the day to day life.

   Then I heard someone call out my name, I turned around but there was no one there, not even that beautiful woman. The voice called out again and again and I thought I recognize this voice. Then I could see a chair, it was familiar it seemed as though I have sat on it. Then suddenly it was bright again and I could see a woman, but now as I stared closely, I realized that it was my mom and I had been dreaming all this time.

  As I ate breakfast, I wondered what the dream meant, and finally I seemed to realize it.
  The world before us is the manifestation of our inner feelings. It is how we take in different events of life that makes our path. If we are positive and confident even in adversity, the world would be a brighter place for us.

"If you desire to blossom like a rose in a garden, you have to learn the art of adjusting with the thorns.."

Monday, December 13, 2010

Fangs of Fear

Fangs are usually associated with Vampires. It is said that when a Vampire bites a normal human being with its fangs, the person in turn gets converted into Vampire. In a similar manner, when the fangs of terror dig its way into an individual, it leaves its mark till the very end.

     She sat at two tables ahead of me, cheerfully chatting with her friends and enjoying her lunch at the canteen. I could not see what she was eating, as she had her back towards me. I took a small bite of the samosa in my plate and stared at her, ignoring the continuous babbling of Raj and Saurav sitting beside me. I had no interest in the samosa, or in taking any lunch. Once I tried to pick up Chicken Biryani and Momo and both were awful as were all the other items. But I had to take something to sit there the whole hour and samosa seemed to be the ideal item.

    A lock of hair fell over her eyes and face. She picked it up carefully with her slender fingers and pushed it behind her ears, lost in the reverie of discussions. One thing I always notice in her is that she is never upset; always a big smile flashed across her face, her features radiated a glow of happiness and confidence. How can someone be so happy all the time. That smile acts like a magnet to attract everyone close to her. The sound of the bell indicated the end of recess and the canteen is filled with a buzz of activity, everybody stood up and hurried to reach their classes.
               
   Suddenly she turned and fixed her flashing beautiful eyes into mine. I was grounded under her glare in my chair. Finally she gave a crooked smile and stood up to leave, her eyes never leaving mine. I was left dazzled for several seconds, before Raj shook my arm.

“Hey come on we shall be late for the chemistry lab, hurry up.”

“I will be right back.”

Damn, she always keeps me dazzled like this. Sometimes I think she likes me, but then again, I can’t find a reason for her interest in me. I am neither the most handsome, nor the most talented person in the class. But for some reason, she always seemed to be aware of my presence.

I was very happy; I neither needed her approval nor her answer, just her simple presence.

         That was around one year ago and during this period; I could neither approach her nor even talk to her, just enjoyed her presence and always found solace deep within her eyes. Every time I gather enough courage and try to express my feelings, something deep within clutches my heart, forbidding me to say anything. Every time she comes close to me something stops me to reciprocate her.

          I was lost in these meanderings, sitting in the middle of tuition class, when Vijay shook my hand and asked,
 “Are you all right?” “You didn’t even write a single line.”

“It’s nothing I am fine, I am just not in good mood.”
   
     I glanced toward her, sitting a bench ahead of me. She wore a black sweater and blue jeans. Her hair is tied up at the back with a black clip. As usual, she looked amazing. As I watched her, a pang of terror shook me up. It was my last tuition class and I knew that I could never meet her again after today.

     Finally the class came to an end and everybody started packing up their bags. I closed my book and put my pen in the pocket and as I stood up, I came directly face to face with her, her eyes was fixed upon mine. But unlike other times, her eyes were filled with pain and depression. I tried to avert my gaze from her but it was futile. She slowly stood up and left. I never saw her again.

    From the moment the fangs of fear touched my heart it left its mark there.


 “Obstacles are like wild animals.  They are cowards but they will bluff you if they can.  If they see you are afraid of them... they are liable to spring upon you; but if you look them squarely in the eye, they will slink out of sight.”
     ~Orison Swett Marden

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Will of Life


            " Where there is  will, there is a way" - This proverb has been rightly shown in this exciting and a spectacular novel, relating to tragedy, crime and a host of other unfateful events cocooned around the life of the protagonist, "Lisbeth Salander".

         It happened every year, was almost a ritual. And it was his eighty second birthday. When as usual, the flower was delivered; he took off the wrapper and then picked up the telephone to call Detective Morell. They were not only of the same age, but also born in the same day. He was retired and sat with a coffee in his hand, near the receiver, expecting the call.

“It arrived.”

“What is it this year?”

“I don’t know what kind it is, I would have someone tell me what it is. It’s white.” 
“No letter I suppose.”

“Just the flower. The frame is the same kind as last year. One of those do it yourself ones.”

“Postmark?”

“Stockholm.” 
“Handwriting?” 
“Same as always, all in capitals. Upright, neat lettering.” 
And so begins the ingenious, heart touching and spectacular trilogy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. The strong, unusual, sympathetic and antisocial character of the protagonist “Lisbeth Salander” carried the story on her own. It kept me glued to the book till the end. A lone girl, skinny, anorexic, short, having pierced nose and eyebrows, short hair and a range of tattoos, stood up against some of the most powerful and aristocratic people who did not left any stone unturned to make her life a living hell, since the time she was born. And they did succeed in their attempt time and again. Her whole life had been a whirlwind of unfateful events, leading to tragedy, complete isolation, harassment and finally abomination from the society as a violent, antisocial and schizophrenic person. But in spite of all her weakness, she had something very powerful which only a very few people knew about. She was a dangerous and best hacker in Sweden and had a photographic memory. The plot is set in the backdrop of Swedish political and social atmosphere and teaches us the power of will. The character of Michael Blomkvist is also one to look after.

Some Facts: Stieg Larsson handed over three manuscripts to his publisher at his deathbed, just before he passed away.

Mind numbing part: In Book 1, the Vanger family history and the relationships of cousins, nephew, son’s, daughter and other members of the family.

“He that loves a book will never want a faithful friend, a wholesome counselor, a cheerful companion, an effectual comforter. By study, by reading, by thinking, one may innocently divert and pleasantly entertain himself, as in all weathers, as in all fortunes.”
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