Silent Warrior

I liked this song when I was ten or twelve. I had an audio cassette of the Album ‘Enigma 2″. I used to hear a lot. Just listen to the song.

From East to West

I use to hear a Enigma a lot. Their music is sometimes move me a lot. Check out this song, one of my favorites.

Video from YouTube, footage from Kingdom of Heaven…

Cause and effect

I was looking for a book (a college chemistry textbook). I have many bookshelves and I had to search a lot. And suddenly in a dusty corner of the oldest bookshelf I came across a comic book. “The adventures of Tintin- The land of Black Gold”, the cover illustrating Tintin and Capt. Haddock on camel, with hoodlums behind, shooting at them on a desert. I lifted the comics, and came across a whole set of Tintin comics. Those “Adventures of Tintin” were the stories of my childhood. Those books had brilliance like no other. I read them over and over again when I was child. I recalled the joy of those books yesterday. I felt that Nostalgia is not a bad thing altogether, it helps you become a child again.

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A few days ago, I was dusting the books in my house. The total book complex in my house was cover with dust. I took a vacuum cleaner and started to clean. It was boring until I found a whole bunch of books (very special book they are indeed). The books are on specific topics. Very small and readable. The topics were like, “Energy”, “Wheels”, “Vehicles”, ‘Cats”, “Farmhouse”, “Volcanoes”, etc. Those book, I liked very much when I was about ten. I remembered how fast I read those books, just to finish them and take a lot of knowledge on that topic. Though may be Children’s editions, I picked one, and started reading.

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I recollected the moments of my childhoods, while I read those books. I don’t even read a bit of Tintin or those Pocket encyclopedias now (maybe a little bit after I had found them again). But still they do attract me a lot.

Books had profound effect on my childhood, and made the teenager I am now. We all can realize the effect other things (especially books) had on our life after we leave our childhood. Those who can’t are just very unlucky.

 

Love and Friendship…

I remember the first time I fell in love. I was fourteen then. It was the most ordinary type of “falling”. I was sitting in a bus, she was walking on the pavement. My eyes met her, she looked away promptly and moved on. I kept starting at her, without blinking. I felt something special. that night, was the first sleepless night of my life.

*************

My first love was pretty much ordinary compared to my second love. She was a friend from kindergarten. After I went to high school, I lost contact with her. When I met her again, I was fifteen. I was riding my bicycle, she was walking on the street. Somehow, my bicycle almost struck her. She leaped to a side and frowned at me., She recognized me after a second. We started to chat. That day we walked together for a couple of hours recollecting the moments from our kindergarten. After we had parted, I thought, it would be better if I had noted her phone number. I wished to meet her again.

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My convention about interesting love changed after another year. I fell in love with someone again. We met each other in an outing. That was the first time I realized that it is possible for someone to be mad for her love. I was a bit younger then, and also a hell lot immature. I failed to keep my emotions away from her. I made a few assumptions, and calculated approximate probability of hearing, “Okay, I can continue with love”, from her. I was wrong (actually I didn’t know how to calculate probability at that time). And that made me real sad. I cried every night, thought of her all the time, and most foolishly, I told my problem to a friend (I consider that foolish because there was actually no reason for me to be sad)

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Everything comes to an end,as did my sadness. I fell in love the fourth time. And that time I was ready to commit to come relationship. After our first meeting, I came to know that she was affectionate for me too; that stirred me. I was very ready to expose my love to her.

We lost contact after we passed the secondary education. After a few months, I called her and talked with her for a while. But I didn’t feel any love for her.

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Time will fix everything, they say. I think they are right. I shivered in pain, cried in sorrow, I thought that I was so ugly, no one can ever like me; I was wrong. My fourth love could have been wonderful if I committed myself. But I withdrew. I now feel that it is very foolish to say, “We love each other so much”, instead we should say, “We are great friends, we share everything, and we help each other”

Current science says that love is about physical relations, and so, I think, if we are not eager about sex, friendship is lot more important. And friends of opposite sex can be better. Hey, don’t take me the wrong way, I am more honest that you think I am. (Just kidding)

What we all need is friends. Find a friend with whom you can share everything, from your everyday chores, to what you did in classroom. I at least try to share my life with my friends.

The new breed of ‘Gods’

For a long time God left us, alone in this world. We lived all these days seeking God and his pity. But for all these, we were deprived. And now, in the 21^st century, our God is abandoning us. But we must no despair, for there is a new breed of ‘God likes’ in the scenario. They are the creators of the world; we call The Open Source World.

The open source world is constantly developing, making its way to the top. Those who are constantly and developing softwares and contributing to the OSS (Open Source Software) world, are almost God like persons. They are developing the softwares for the society, for humanity. They are spending time from their precious life to make our life easier by making free softwares. These OSS can be edited, customized and developed by anyone. Everyone can access the source codes of this softwares and make it better. Maybe I am telling in a hagiographical way, but still I would say, “Only those experienced the essence of OSS, may feel the spirit of OSS”. Someone once told the ideal of the FOSS (Free Open Source Software), and from that moment, I wanted to be a part of this ideal. I do want to contribute something to this world, to make a mark, to be a part of humanitarian activities. And, when I will learn enough programming, I will surely do. This is one my dreams.

Are you thinking why I just have told a bit about the OSS world? Because it moved me. And if you are one of those odd adventurer types, get some taste of the spirit of OSS.

Incident at the river bank

It was afternoon. The sun inclined itself to almost fifteen degrees, and was changing it’s colour. The boy was standing at the ghat(river bank). He wore a ragged short. His ribs was clearly visible, his limbs were thin. It was clear to me that he was poor. He was collecting water from the river, as the rivers’ water is considered as something which purifies the soul. Maybe he was collecting water for his home. His jar of water went full. And he turned and started to walk away from the river bank.

I sat there for a few minutes. Suddenly, I saw the boy again, rushing towards the bank, with a new jar, and filling it up again. Then he again walked away. I got it. He filled up jars for money. Great way to make money!

A great looking teenager girl was coming to the bank. The boy was hurrying to return the jar to it’s owner and get some money. They collided, the boy fell down. The girl started to act strangely. It seemed that something bad touched her. She started to scold the boy. The boy hung his head in shame. I went to know, “Why?”. The girl explained that the boy belonged to the lowers castes. And now that he touched her, she have to wash herself.

It was almost impossible. It is 2007 A.D. And still few are bothered about the touch from the lower castes.

Untitled joys of sorrow

I am walking in the streets alone. And there goes my friend, walking, laughing, chattering with his girlfriend; they are walking hand in hand. He didn’t noticed that I am behind him. And that ignorance is letting me relish this scene. Not many traffic on road, the pavement is almost empty, except a few beggars. I do pity for them, I feel guilty when I see them noticing me. Why did beggars have to be beggars? I am again watching my friend, laughing. His girlfriend may be telling him a joke. That’s nice! It really feels good, when I see a couple happy with themselves. There are still few good left in this world! Thunder crackled, they looked at each other, eyes glistening with joy, they are running for shelter as the rain begins to fall down. These beggars are reading themselves for the rain, if they could just run for shelter! As the drops of water is falling down from a few kilometers above, I am weeping.

I am standing in the front of the rail crossing, there is a crowd around it. A man just died, he collided with a train. It’s a pity. Did the old man have to die? His family is here at the spot now. The old man’s death made them irritated more than it made them sad. How strange! I am going away from the crossing now. His family don’t care, why should I? Huh, it’s funny that I am thinking like that.

I am standing on the edge of the roof of a four story building. And I am looking down. What if I jump from here? Who will become sad for me? Who will cry for me? Why am I living? I never did succeed in something difficult, and I may never will. So why am I struggling shamefacedly. Why should I hang my head before everyone? I don’t need to live. I am stretching my muscle to jump. And now I am on the roof, lying, and the man is panting, “Why were you trying to jump? Thank god I was here!” I am standing up slowly and now I am walking for the stairs. I will be crying all night.

The share…

Chocolate, to me, is one of the grandest delights. When I eat a chocolate bar, I don’t like any distraction. I close my eyes and relish the chocolate.

One of my friends does also like chocolates. He lives near me. His family couldn’t afford him a Chocolate bar, but my family could. Once he had a bar of chocolate, which we shared in a secluded corner near the playground near our locality. The next day, my uncle bought me a big bar. While I was relishing the bar, he came and asked for a bite. “No,” I replied.

“Please”,

“I will not…”

“I gave you mine yesterday.”

“So what”

“How can you eat it all?”

“I don’t care what you say; I will eat it alone, because my uncle bought this for me and me only”

He sighed and disappeared.

And I ate that all. Next day I heard that they were moving to another place. “Let them move, I don’t like the greedy!” I told to myself.

It was ten years ago.

During all this ten years, I ate loads of chocolates; most of them were great in taste. Yesterday, I was browsing through some old documents, when I found a letter. It was from him. He was on a vacation, and wrote me a letter from there. Those immature letters on that letter reminded me of him. I recalled how I didn’t give him the Chocolate. He was such a nice guy. I thought I may be able to find him now. I had a big bar (Like that I had ten years ago) in the refrigerator. I took the bar and went to their old house, and then asked if the inhabitants could tell them about the previous owner of their own house. The woman said, “Yes, they live near the rail station, you can find them there.”

“Thanks Aunty”, I rode my bicycle.

Near Rail Station I asked about him by telling his name to everyone, from shopkeepers to the chatters on the road. Some said, “Yes, I heard of him, but I cannot tell you the exact location”, some said, “Never heard of him”. It was getting dark; I had to find him, but how. After scouting the whole area, I was unable to find him. I wanted to share the chocolate with him. I thought if he could forgive me.

The murder and the touch…

He was walking through the road, searching for peace. He decided to go to the river banks. He made it there with his fast long legs. He sat there, cross legged. The city at the other side of the river was sparkling brilliantly. He watched the river water reflecting the lights falling into it. He was sad. He was bothered about his failures and his dreams. The exam report was out, he couldn’t even show the report to his family, his mother, father and sister. He looked at his friends going home, smiling, laughing. The river side was peaceful, the only retreat, where he can be private with god. He closed his eyes, tears fell down. How can he approach home with such an exam report? All his classmates made great, but he, awful. He wanted to die. How? The river? How could he sacrifice his life in front of his own god? His conscience held him back. He asked his god to make him more intelligent so that he could do well on the exams. God didn’t answer. God never did. Every year he prayed to god in this river bank, to make him more intelligent. He asked himself, “Why does God never answers me? I truly respect him.” His conscience always pursued him to pray to God. He was about to ask God again, suddenly the gunshot stopped him. He looked at the three men who carried another dead man and threw his body into the river. They didn’t see him. He was sitting in his special corner. “Whew!” he exclaimed to himself. The hoodlums got away. He rose, walked to the water and looked at the body getting mixed with mud. The water was taking him slowly. He asked his god, “Did this man have to die?” No answer again. His conscience no more did persuade him to prey to god. He witnessed death. He sat near the water, spread his hands and touched the half submerged cold body. He felt the soft skin under the drenched cloth. He began to cry.

A hour later, he rose. The rain started a few moments ago. He was getting wet. He took his bag, and started walking to his home. His teeth was in grinding position, his face held high, he moved like a warrior, his blood was warm, his eyes bright.

He had killed his God.

Untamed emotions

He was up, crying. His pillow wet with tears, he toppled in his bed. The death of the cat bothered him. It was not his pet, but it was cute & lovable. He was amazed by his own sympathy about the cat. His eyes slowly became sore. His emotions became tired. He fell asleep.

Next morning, he sits still beside the windows, listening to the birds. He recalls the moments of his sorrow when he cried for the cat. There are no remnants of such feelings this morning. Suddenly some one calls him from outside. He looks up and sees his friends. One of them said, “Are you still crying for that cat yesterday!?” Anger surged through him. “Shut up!” he shouted. He suddenly got too much excited. He gets outside and jabbed the boy who just questioned him. The others stopped him. He gasped for breath. It was that boy, who he jabbed, threw a stone at the cat and killed it. He thought about the vengeance. His friends laughed at him for his behaviour. He restrained himself.

He always tries to hide his emotions from others. But the event today made him reassess himself.

“I am sad for a cat. How foolish am I? I have better thing to think about.”

But from deep inside his heart, he heard “Be what you are! Be proud of your goodness. You cannot tame your emotions, they will always remain untamed.”