Striking the chords..

Shoes

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 21:04:00 +0000

Shoes.
Remember the last time you extended your reach to the nearby showroom to buy a pair for yourself? Oh yes, this one is easy to remember. Do you know about the various kinds of shoes? Are you confused about which one to buy this season? Are you aware of the current fashion trends? Many such questions you have regarding shoes, none of which, this post is going to answer.

Let us try to sketch a picture of the first time you walked an inch on your own legs. That particular act, must have brought extreme happiness to the people who witnessed it. Teary eyed mother, a rejoicing father running after you, trying to make you walk a little more: a similar image you must be having in your mind. By the way, were you wearing shoes during that particular act? Probably no. This post is going to make you time travel from the answer of this question to what ever shoe you are wearing right now.

Why wear a shoe? Umm..there can be numerous reasons for wearing a shoe. Shoes are comforting, they can assist in running fast(Life is a race. If you don't run fast, you'll get trampled. I bet.) and everybody wears them. Fair enough: take a look around, everybody has got at least a pair. So why not you? So why can't you decide to work hard to earn all the cash needed to buy that one pair, which is envied by everyone, which comes along with a multi digit price tag, which has a renowned brand name, which is worn by your favorite film start for a 5 second advertisement.

Consider this. I don't want to wear shoes. I never wanted to wrap my legs and tie heavy knots to them. I wanted to be free. I wanted to feel the earth on which I was going to put my weight for next 22000 days. A risky affair, but I knew that this will be something I'd enjoy. I never wanted to run too-fast-too-far, I just wanted to feel every single step I was going to take towards this journey.
But then they tried to persuade me into the perks of wearing a shoe. They showed me examples of people who were successfully running ahead just because they chose to wear the right shoe early in life. No matter how much that brand new shoe inflicted blisters and cuts on their legs, such people never gave up and pretty soon the shoe got adjusted to leg (or maybe the leg got adjusted to the shoe.) Whatever happened, beyond that point of final adjustment, as they said, life became as smooth as butter.
Well, to me it always sounded funny as to how a pair of really nice shoes can make us feel proud in our heads - at the extreme opposite end of our bodies?

Finally, they got me a pair. It wasn't good but was from the popular trends. And wearing them for all these years, I can feel my legs beginning to align and adapt accordingly. Alas, as they said, these shoes which they bought for me after spending Lakhs of rupees, perhaps, is going to get me a job, a name, a respectable position in the society of common men.
I see all my friends wearing a similar pair of shoes. They say, they too, like me, were forced to wear them. This sounds comforting. Not the shoe. The shoe still hurts a lot.

I don't understand any of this. Why should I be known by the shoe I am wearing right now? Why these people insist on trying our whole life to fit our legs into a shoe everyone likes?
And when the shoe fits, it is probably worn out. If it doesn't ever, can we now change the foot, please!

Dilli: What the eyes can't see.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 12:37:00 +0000

What the eyes can see is a journey of dreams: 200km state of art air conditioned rail connectivity, an array of shiny wheels with unfamiliar labels on them, arrangements of bricks that dare to touch the sky, over bridges that extend from one side to the other of these wide roads. Beautifully sculptured houses on both side of the road. Roads having green lights that glint all night like its diwali. Welcome to Delhi.

What the eyes can't see is the price that was paid to give the city this envious beauty. The eyes find it too hard to see the unevenness that surrounds this perfect world.
What the eyes see is extreme anger that is seen but not understood. What the eyes see is utmost pain that can be seen but not felt from your state-of-the-art multistory apartment.

Here is how Dilli, a short documentary makes the eyes see, a record of the evacuation of thousands of humans, who lost their homes, and were left in a sea of rubble with nowhere to go and no hope for the future.

More on : http://www.dillifilm.com/

P.S. If migration causes so much harm to the migrants, it is a valid question to ask, why do they keep coming? Is it simply because this is a valid way of survival in this complex world at the end of the century in which there are more and more poor people who have less and less?

I don't know. I do know that they don't come here because they like it. I do know that in their villages they don't have opportunities to progress, nor access to work or education, nor fair markets for their products, nor public services that would improve their quality of life. There are many things lacking.

But I also know that they have their faith, a profound faith that helps them carry all their problems. They have realized that pennies do not come from heaven, they have to be earned here on earth. I think I can see a reflection of this ugly truth in their eyes.

A pile of stone

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 19:51:00 +0000

Every moment is an experience. And every good experience is a new stone added to the pile of accomplishments, adjusting it one above another. Thanks to our typical parsimonious attitude that never allows us to get rid of it, pretty soon it all gets piled up to the point of instability. Now, the fear of getting toppled down forces us to stop taking risks any further. Fair enough, after all, its more about taking care of your old but costly medals than betting on the new ones.

Well, here is something interestingly odd to take lesson from: It might sound like a weird confession at first, but some people (yeah, one such person called Steve Jobs) admitted that losing everything that he built for himself and seeing that pile of accomplishments destroyed was the best thing that could ever happen to him. And I'm afraid, not much evidence is available to prove that he wasn't right.

"The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life." And added "I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful-tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it." - Steve Jobs, In a speech at Stanford University in 2005.

P.S. Its not always a bad idea to sacrifice what we are for what we would become. There can be nothing more dangerous to the adventurous spirit of a man than a secure future.
I know that this all 'gyan' has been preached many times before but since nobody listens, we have to keep going back to remembering the same old lessons and beginning all over again.

The childhood dream.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 20:32:00 +0000

The strength is low and I can't stand relieved,
As my bones have grown and height increased.
The mind is rejoicing at this success scream,
As my heart refused to fight for my childhood dream.

Letting the world decide what is best for me,
I became a winner and joined the losing team.
And when they said 'best things in life aren't free.'
I bought a life and sold my childhood dream.

I came, I saw and since then I have just seen,
And I don't like the change through which I've been.
The wonders once hundred million are now just seven,
They call my childhood dream as a place called heaven.

P.S. I think all of us had a childhood dream. There's something that we wanted to be when the world was brand new and we had all the time in the world to make anything happen. But somewhere down the road we realized that the dream wasn't worth fighting for. We eventually chose to live with and die for all the most tasteless things in life, just like others. That was the day 'The childhood dream' got lost in the rush of the real-world ambition.

Mirror.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 11:27:00 +0000

Created by you,
I'm your invention.
Showing your true self,
I'm your reflection.
I placated your hunger,

Then why the hatred?

Ever met a person who spoke of you like no one ever had? A person who went on thrashing away all the misconceptions you have about yourself. A person who brought to your notice a new territory, a territory less prosperous in the kingdom of your personality. A person who made you meet a different version of yourself: the weaker, less heroic version..

You hate that version. You hate that person.

Be careful. That person could have been a mirror. We cannot hate the mirror for what it shows. An honest critic is as useless to an ignorant person as is a mirror to a blind person. It'll be too hard to see our own face without a mirror. At least, let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.

The Problem.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 06:59:00 +0000

[When God is about to leave, Bruce looks up and asks God.. ]

Bruce: What if I need you? What if I have questions?

God: That's your problem, Bruce. That's everybody's problem. You keep looking up.

(from the movie "Bruce Almighty")

Once in 12 years.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 06:18:00 +0000

The Nilgiri hills have a history going back a good many centuries. It is not known why they were called the Blue Mountains. Several sources cite the reason as the smoky haze enveloping the area, while other sources say it is because of the KURUNJI flower, which blooms every TWELVE years giving the slopes a bluish tinge.

Some of us passively sit back and watch the rest of life go on because we feel we have had too many set-backs or let-downs to furthur pursue our dreams. Just like Benjamin Franklin said, "Some people die at twenty-five and aren't buried until they are seventy-five".

Then there are those of us who have felt defeated at one point, but after getting side-tracked, knocked down, and trampled upon, rise up more determined to succeed than ever. And such kind is different from others, sought for its rarity of occurrence. Believe me, when such a rebirth happens, the whole world stops to take a look.

Not yet enough.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Thu, 03 Feb 2011 19:47:00 +0000

A voice said, Look me in the stars

And tell me truly, men of earth,

If all the soul-and-body scars

Were not too much to pay for birth.

-- Robert Frost

'Broken' is not a weakness unless it becomes a condition that describes you. Like it or not, the most you've suffered might be the least anyone could have suffered. Its just that.. If you're out having an adventure with the slope, just try not to be afraid of the scars that you'll get along the way downwards.

Think or Act, Just Live !

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 19:31:00 +0000

Its obvious that every living soul is trying to search for the meaning withing life..

But what if this attempt becomes an obsession to exercise and somehow 'figure-out' this infinitely enigmatic adventure? Whereas its mystery, like always, remains one step ahead of your limits of desire and lust.

And what if we begin to hypothesize life 'just' by thinking upon the conclusions drawn from some one else's experiences? Always trying to conclude whether the glass is half empty or half full all your life, just to die without even knowing how the drink actually tasted like..

As T.S. Eliot describes in his famous poem "Whispers of Immortality"

"And even the Abstract Entities
Circumambulate her charm;
But our lot crawls between dry ribs
To keep our metaphysics warm."

(In the quest for meaning of life, the abstractionist keep revolving inside the circle of their own charm while others, the more philosophical lot, keep crawling within a sphere of dead glory just to keep their theories alive.)

P.S. -- Neither obsession with the charm of physical pleasure nor the uneartlhy spiritual theories can bring anyone any closer to finding meaning in life. It is important to have a balance of both. Even if no meaning is found, there isn't much to be agonistical about; because the meaning doesn't even exist in the first place.

I love man not the less, but Nature more.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 06:11:00 +0000

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods;

There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar;
I love not man the less, but Nature more..."
- Lord Byron

I am sitting here staring at this brobdingnagian sea while I smoke a cigarette and think of just nothing for the first time in my life. At such moments, I can feel a deep connection with the infinite, as the sound of every tiny emotion inside gets amplified with the roar of the sea. I feel as if it isn't me who is here, but someone more herculean, someone capable of doing extraordinary things...

P.S. -- Agatti Island, a mere 7 km long piece of land surrounded by green water of sea on all the sides. A real destination for absolute redemption, this island of Lakshadweep contains in it nearly 5000 people. A must visit place for someone who has always intended to experience the joy of being in a place where there is just "you, with just you around you".

The real truth.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 11:13:00 +0000

"What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present."
---T.S. Eliot

So busy we've become sporting our freedom, claiming our thoughts and actions to be wandering in a place without boundaries. Unaware of the past, foolishly we boast to have concluded the coming future. And then, we try too hard to amend the future, just to prove our present conclusions correct !
Ambitious and passionate we are, fighting for the right things. But how can we decide that what will be right and what went wrong, if it is us to affirm and us to adjudicate. We are just pretending ourselves to be soaring to a very high level of thinking while our souls are still a helpless slave to our own over-sized perceptions.
Uninfluenced by our ironic imaginations, the present remains the only real truth, rest everything is bits and pieces of unsolicited speculations.

Words become your religion.Try to follow it.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 12:14:00 +0000

"For all the things we say
Even half meant as we may
Lives could not have been
An empty house of people
With empty hearts
But replete letter boxes."

Do we really mean what we say? Whether its a protest, affirmation or a confession, will we be there to stand up and fight for the causes we give words to ?We think days and nights before presenting our proposal of love to someone. We crave for the best words to describe our feelings. But are we even half as beautiful in action as our ravishing words?

Be it forwarding love texts, wishing someone a prosperous life or showing disgust to something we don't like, don't you think that at some stage we will have to make a promise to ourselves to make a progress beyond the world of words?

Death of a life, one of its kind.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 11:14:00 +0000

We all love nature because we depend on it for survival. We love science more because we depend on it for comfort. I'd ignore any sort of comfort that comes at the cost of nature.

That's our neighbor, 35 year old Mr. Sinha. He holds a top position in a govt. office, gets a fair amount of salary and has been strangely dedicated to environment concerns long before there were actually any. In his 10 years of paid service he claims to have enjoyed a totally "Science-free" lifestyle; An unexplained reason for why he never bought any vehicle, appliance or any other 'hazardous' device. Maybe, a sufficient reason why he never married.

In the beginning, his temperament was nothing more than a topic for washroom laughter in the offices. But, with the passage of time he proved his desperation and very soon he was featured in a kind of "Believe it or not" television show for his phenomenal perseverance. Everyone supposed that now Sinhaji has met his destiny and that he has finally brought his madness to the television, he should become 'normal'. But Sinha uncle seemed unmovable. He didn't even watch his own show on the television.

Even after 10 years, whenever I see those Save Earth advertisements and campaigns on rising concern over climate change and environment disintegration, I can only remember of Mr. Sinha and his undeterred opposition to technology. I remember how just a mere glimpse of Mr. Sinha forced kids to hide their fancy gadgets they had been showing all day.

___________

This summer offered all possible heat to end my excitement for going back home in the holidays.I wish the sun gave light and not the heat. Happy and heaving, finally I reached home, stimulated and energized with one such engraved memory.

What I saw there,consumed all my excitement.

Somehow, I really admired Mr. Sinha and his defamed craziness. I could clearly feel a weird sadness in my nerves. Even a mere imagination of such an ending could've given anyone goosebumps. I couldn't fight the tears that were coming, so I asked Mom how did this all happened?

How did Sinha uncle end up buying an AC !!

My mother didn't seem too much surprised. Modestly, she uttered, "Well, he got married a week before.Since then he has been buying things " .

(Thanks Chris Madden for the image cartoon)

What I want : I, everything or Just you.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 04:34:00 +0000

I pass through

the corners of the road's end.
I wish

we could see the coming next.

I hate ends

of my well known endless desires.

I think

but then that's the only thing I do.

Everything

seems still and transfixed.

Everyone

rushing to a flame still burning.
Everywhere

visible faults worn with pride.

Just then

the birds fly to the blue sky
Just now

felt a sudden urge to capture

Just this

moment which I remember as

Just me

with just you around.

The Shiv Sena controversy: My verdict

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 14:39:00 +0000

As more than a week fleets after Shiv Sena’s unfair protest of Shah Rukh Khan's comment supporting inclusion of Pakistani players in the IPL, the question clouding up is 'why?’ I mean, why Shiv Sena or any other political party is doing all this all the time? While some think it to be merely a political stunt or 'gundagardi', I am of the opinion that the protest and the controversy created is really a fair deal for all of them. No, that is not a misprint; I do mean ALL of them. I’ll show you how -

1. The fact cannot be denied that a small but influential group silently supports what Shiv Sena has to say, whether it is about giving preference to Marathi language or to its people in the state. And why shouldn’t they? While the benevolent leaders of other states like Uttar Pradesh are busy building their own mighty statues in parks named after them instead of thinking something for their unemployed youth, why a better developed state like Maharashtra should share their resources with the people who even failed to choose a good leader? As it comes out, the party is substantially benefitting bhumiputr(sons of the soil) of Maharashtra.

2. Rahul Gandhi ticks the issue saying that Mumbai is for all. Easily visible, this vote of protest should benefit the Congress party in the upcoming elections in Bihar.

3. The Shiv Sena may want theatre owners to boycott SRK’s latest film My Name is Khan but it looks be an impossible wish. Besides there are still 9 days left for the release, hence it will be too hard for such a crackbrained campaign to last that much. The superstar actor might look to be doomed right now but is getting a reward in terms of publicity for his upcoming release My Name Is Khan.

4. With this, the Shiv Sena has marked one more benchmark towards making a comeback to their basic ideology. We should never forget that this is what they are known for and similar acts of militant Hinduism accidentally brought them to power once.

5. How are the Indian news channels supposed to combat recession if such things never happen. They might manage to get some other news everyday but such stories of controversy is something too big at TRPs. This news story involves a metro city, a national political party, bollywood stars, cheap remarks and even a forsaken country, Pakistan. (I almost forgot, the controversy is just about allowing some of the innocent T20 champions to play in an adjacent country, whose people are crazy about good cricket).

.

The night has come..

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 14:42:00 +0000

The night has come,

Party the years frozen,

At the places illspoken;

Show what's been hidden,

Shout what's never spoken

Sell whats already stolen,

Hurt till the heart is broken.

The night has come,

Forget the child's abuse,

Blind rape of power's use.

Money as the wedding excuse,

Leading to poor bride's refuse.

Sad death of the best amuse,

Hunger leading to life's reduce.

The night has come,

Still hard to take this curvet,

Couln't sleep after today's sunset,

Regret for not making it right yet,

But for me the time's perfect,

Not that to me happiness is abhorrent,

I feel that a year's too short to repent.

Yeah,

For me the time hasn't come,

For me the night hasn't come.

(A happy and prosperous new year wishes for you and family)

The Silence..

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 07:03:00 +0000

"Clock in between you came & left,

Rejoicing in between the struggle,

To let it out or let it go..

There is still something unsaid,

A true friend that never betrayed,

That never needed a perfect line,

To enounce the secrets of mine,

Said it best,Said it heaviest

When said nothing at all...

Oh Silence,you are my only answer."

A Thing Called Love at first sight.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 13:06:00 +0000

"The glimpse of your beauty

In my heart never got buried

You just thought it was tawdry

But tell me, How could someone

Abandon the sight of a vision

Hard to frazzle
Hard to believe.."

Love Hurts only if its finite.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 09:57:00 +0000

For the moments it rained,

Skies that turned red,

Birds that sung symphony,

We built memories so bonny..

Oh my dear beloved,

I loved you till you left,

Hopes of the inevitable

Shattered,Yet I love you

To the infinity and beyond.

Aroha...

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 14:17:00 +0000

[1]

‘How much for that book?’
‘Three ninety nine only.’
‘Could you please give me a receipt?’
‘Yeah sure.’
Grabbing the bill, I rushed out of the book parlour with the newly bought novel ‘The Shadow of The Clouds’ when my eyes witnessed a familiar face that had been responsible for shortening my sleeps and bringing a strange, joyous and peculiar increase in my attendance at college.
An absolute silence of eternity, grace of the Divinity, every sight of her was like the magic of a dreamy delusion, bringing a musical vibration to the body.
‘Nice book!’ I wish she could have said something like that so that I could have started any conversation with her. No, maybe I should have gone and said something to her. We are in the same Section, a ‘hi!’ could have completely normal and cool to begin with. But I didn’t .Even she didn’t.

[2]

‘I saw you at the book shop’
It felt like I should slap my face to believe in the dream I was hallucinating. Seeing her coming towards me I calculated I had exactly 3 seconds to decide if One-what I heard , Two-whom I heard and Three-the mental state I heard that in WERE words by her , spoken by her with me obviously not in a dream respectively.
Before I could, she herself attested my fantasy.

‘I saw you at the Verma’s yesterday. What can bring someone like you to a book shop, Ishan?’
‘Ah, nothing as such. Very few people know this but I have an aroha for novels.’
She made an unusual face. Still, honestly speaking she was a sight you can’t ignore.
‘I love to read such things. Keeps you busy, are harmless and always leave you with something to think about.’
‘Yeah .’

[3]

If you are thinking this is how my months’ long starvation for the sound I was becharmed to, came to an end, you’re right. But I should remind myself and inform you that I am not Ishan. Ishan happens to be my roommate since my 2 years at college. He is smart, takes fraction of seconds to come up with anything which every girl could be easily flattered with and yeah, there are rumours that he resembles Emile Hirsch. To me he is a friend who remains out of the picture most of the time and comes closer to me before one week left for the exams. Still he is my best buddy and I love him. At the moment I’d love to hate him to the core.

‘You didn’t tell me that you like her’, I blurted as soon as she left, loaded with an ounce of killer smile on her face.

‘Who says that I like her?’, said Ishan attempting to look frivolous.

‘I say so, because One-you just used one of my favourite words which I once forcefully made you to listen to, Two-you hate novels or any kind of thing that has something to read, Three-you never speak like this to a girl unless you like her.’
‘Like what?’ Ishan gave me an unfamiliar smile and left. Maybe he sensed my jealousy.

I and Ishan were close friends, talked a lot to each other but somewhere I felt that I was a burden on him, I was enforced on him. I was way too different from people he used to hang out with. This had brought a line of limits to our friendships. We never talked about each others’ personal feelings unless it came out as a joke of course. He’d never know my feelings for that girl. Nobody ever would. Maybe someday only she will.

[4]

The results of the winter semester exams were out. Like always, once again I held the last position in the non-toppers’ list. Like always I could see some girls crying, some celebrating, some blaming the college system and some ugly nerds coming to congratulate me sustaining a irritating geeky smile on their face.
‘Congrats!’ from somewhere struck me a familiar voice, a priceless sound capable of bringing renaissance in my current monotonic world.
‘Th…Thanks ‘I don’t know where the hell I gathered strength to speak that much. Something that just happened was like the shock of the lightening. For once in my life I would have loved to stop the moment and simply stare at it. She smiled. She left.
I wish I could make this last longer. But right now, all I had received out of nowhere was hard to gather. This is how all this began.

[5]

A month later......
_______________________________
I had learned to dream; Dream about living my dreams. The happiness of hearing her voice was now a daily phenomenon. Times began to take a felicitous turn. Ishan helped a lot in bringing me close to her. Most of the time when I was with her, he used to be with me, beside me, for me.
It had turned out exactly the way I had prayed for. All it needed a formal approval, which I thought about volunteering.
“I think she’s in love with me.”,Ishan was the only one who could finally assist me into this one, so I asked him.
“ha-ha-ha-ha! Yeah. You’re right! C’mon dude. Don’t behave like you know nothing.” Ishan couldn’t prevent his giggle dissolve the colours of my face.
Still I recollected myself and murmured, “All I felt all these days was something unusual. It felt like love to me. I don’t know...”
“Oh boy! You are really so fucking innocent. I can’t believe you understood nothing out of all this. She’s after me you fool. And that is why she has brought herself so close to you. You were just a bridge. I had sensed it too early, her roommate confirmed this yesterday.”
Silence prevailed. I left.
It felt like I was suddenly collapsing inwardly into a place of nothingness, drowning in a sea of questions, each one leading to more questions.
I stepped out. If it wasn’t supposed to happen my way, it will not happen in any other way. How could someone use me to reach someone else? How can that someone be her? The disbelief is going to cost her. I stepped out and ran towards her when something coined in my head. I stopped. I went back.
The next morning I rushed straight to her. I was so eager to spill out what she deserved for hurting someone who loved her so extraordinarily.
“I heard that you like Ishan!”
She seemed firm, leaving this unanswered. After a few seconds she nodded.
“I just wanted to ask you one thing. Why don’t you go and tell Ishan. Even I have sensed likeliness for you in him.”
I could see the blush on her face. I couldn’t compare the scenery to the beauty of rose, the magic of dawn, the infinity of the oceans, the gaiety of rain, or to anything described as beautiful on this earth. This very particular sight was more exquisite than anything expressible. She was joyously smiling.
As she left, the words of the first page of my journal I read last night surfaced over my memories of her...

“The tiring Quest for pleasure
Ended on you from where
Seduction began without a fight.
Life was something I was caught at
Now it’s all a blur from where
The Aroha gave me the light
Your Aroha became the light....”

.

Shouts of the silence.

noreply@blogger.com (Apoyando) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 14:44:00 +0000

Where have you been, I asked you to come before 7? What’s the matter? Your pa is going to be furious; you know that, don’t you?

Nothing came unexpected; the kid knew this was going to happen. But what could he do, he was helpless, incapacitated...

This is not going to work like this. You are going to tell me why you have been behaving so ignorant. “Papa it was the game which took long” the kid uttered trembling like an indicted, knowing that any explanation this time was useless. But he had no other option.

When you are small, there cannot be a bigger fear in your life than your father’s unhappiness. When you grow up the personas get reversed, that’s ironic.”Don’t tell me that, I went out looking for you, you were not in the park.” Although he didn’t, how could he, there were ‘things’ more important to do than looking out for his own child.

One could easily see the sudden growth of terror in the kid’s eyes. Even his father did. The kid’s blood seemed getting colder; the only contrivance left for him was to cry or maybe an intervention by his mother could help. He looked out to her; she seemed cold-eyed on this one. Tears began to roll down his eyes. A reeking mirror began to build between the child’s world and his eyes. They were so vulnerable. Nobody had any idea of the perdition those beautiful eyes had experienced...

The child was drowning with this amphetamine. He felt like his heart sliding slowly out of his small mouth. The words he was going to verbalize could change world or rather the way people see the world. He wished if something could stop this from happening, something, anything. Please...

.