sisypheanisms

Eyes Wide Open - Asela & Isuri

2012-01-26T21:30:00.000+05:30

This is a beautiful piece of music from two very beautiful and talented people. Certainly two worth following so you'll keep listening to some wonderful tunes and see some gorgeous artwork, and you won't be surprised when they win a Grammy or an Oscar for animation or something.

Asela : facebook.com/aptunes | @Ace1424, Isuri : soundcloud.com/surid | @IsuriD

Seeing monarchs, robins, or hummingbirds?

2012-01-26T09:10:00.000+05:30

standing at the door
waiting for epiphanies,
for the road ahead.

at my crossroads now,
rivers to cross, roads to take,
changes i must make.

unclear futures before me,
a blurred and hazy sight i see,
like that flutter of wings.

seeing monarchs,
robins, or hummingbirds?
fiery distant flash.

monarchs travel,
fiery mass, no sense of one, but,
never alone.

a loner robin,
travels far and wide and long,
singing pretty songs.

feisty hummingbird,
flutters at every flower,
is a survivor.

seeing monarchs,
robins, or hummingbirds?
now, which one am i?

also, I need glasses.

For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, runaway sentence. challenged me with "Seeing monarchs, robins, or hummingbirds?" and I challenged Kelly Garriott Waite with "take a good quote you like from something sci-fi, and use it to make something that's anything but sci-fi"

A Flash of Life

2012-01-20T00:04:00.001+05:30

That silver .45 pointed at him was big, really big. It was big even when it wasn't pointed at him, now it seemed like an artillery barrel. Or maybe it seemed that way because of all the snow in his system. He probably should have waited till he got home to snort the stuff. Being only marginally coherently aware of one's surroundings probably wasn't the best state to try some Matrix style bullet dodging. He was vaguely aware of some kind of sound leaving his lips. Some kind of mumbling. He thought he could make out "pliss" and 'Nu". The long black shadow behind the gun hardly made any noise, except when the gun fired. Then it seemed like his ears exploding was the only thing in the world and he felt his eyes close in spite of himself.

Dylan felt the darkness fading slowly. The world was slowly coming back into focus. His senses slowly started coming back to him. He was still in the dingy old warehouse where he always made his score. Only it was empty. "Well that's not entirely true." he thought in wonder. The warehouse might have been empty of people, his dealer wasn't there, the goons who jumped the place weren't there, but now he was aware of everything else that he never noticed. The beams of sunlight that came in through the cracks in the roof, the little bits of dust that sparkled in the sunshine, the gleam on the staked metal sheets, the peeling rust on the old car in the corner, the little bugs walking along the rafters oblivious to his existence. He looked down and saw a hole in his chest the size of quarter and a huge red stain all over his shirt. "Wow that's some good stuff this time." he said to himself. He couldn't even feel anything. In any case he figured it was time to get out of here before the cops showed up and started to move.

As he pushed open to the door to this rundown warehouse in the bad end of city, he felt a gust of wind hit him. Wind with the soft fresh scent of trees and the open fields. As he walked out he found himself facing a treeline stretching to either side as far as he could see with trees that were the tallest things he had ever seen. Their leaves emerald green glistening in the sunlight, the bark so brown it was almost red and rich as chocolate. Beyond the treeline he could see a field of green, and out there near the horizon, he could see a little school. He stopped for a moment. In the very back of his mind a little whisper was saying this wasn't some ordinary trip. But the surreal landscape didn't worry him. It felt familiar, it felt like home. It was home, long ago. He didn't think twice and just walked right out and into the greenery.

As the calm winds and sweet scent of the greenery lulled his senses. He heard laughter from somewhere. A child's laughter. He turned around and saw movement in the grasses. A little figure not more taller than his knees suddenly appeared. Her brown eyes sparkled like gemstones, her hair in little dark curls that bounced as she skipped, and her smile shone brighter than a row of pearls as she asked him 'Aren't you coming to school silly?' and she held out her hand. He placed his hand in hers without a moments hesitation as it seemed like the most natural thing to do. He felt that little whisper in the back of his mind telling him how silly it must look for an almost-man to be skipping along a grassy field holding hands with a little girl. But that's exactly what Dylan and Lucia did, just like they always did on the way to school.

to be continued...

For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Head Ant challenged me with "Taking inspiration from "An Occurence at Owl Creek Bridge," describe what goes through your mind in the last few moments before death. " and I challenged Chaos Mandy with "the flickering lightbulb".

I came up with a lot more than I thought I would. So instead of one ponderously long post, gonna break it into pieces. Hopefully something good will come out of it. Also I should say this is not me, not the real me anyway. Sorry Head Ant. I thought this might be a more entertaining interpretation than boring old me. Thank you for the great prompt.

Long and Winding Road

2011-10-20T23:38:00.000+05:30

Love,

Here I am again, at your door. It's as almost as if I've never left. No matter where I go I always end up here no matter how hard I try. It's like all roads lead to Rome, all rivers fall to the sea, all the birds fly south and my heart always comes back to you.

We've had our ups, we've had our downs, we had a great great run. So many memories, good and bad. So much happy and so much sad. Every moment spent flying sparks at each other, on the flipside, had a moment of quiet bliss, nestled in loving arms. We were together on that long and winding road so long. For every curve and bend, there would always be that long stretch of straight and narrow, where I'd watch the sun shine through your hair and all would be right with the world as we laughed and exploded in happiness hurtling down that road of life with the cool wind strong in our faces.

But I always took the back roads, so many bends and twists and turns, so hard to keep straight, so hard to keep upright, when what I should have given you was the cosy smooth sail you came for. You didn;t sign up for that. You didn't ride with me for the whiplash, and the crash. That's when you left. That's when I went on alone.

And I did go on. I tried. But with noone to guide me along, I got lost so many times. Trudging on through darkness and fog, and through the rain and the storms. But I kept going. I kept going on because no matter where I was, this life, this long winding road I'm on, it always comes back to you. I always come back to you. Because its always been you and you are always where my life will lead to.

So please, don't keep me waiting here. Lead me to your door.

For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Sheree challenged me with "The 'Long and Winding Road' by the Beatles is the inspiration for your story." and I challenged Major Bedhead with "the dog's meow".

This really didn't come out like I hoped it would. I got a major dose of writer's block on the prompt. Ultimately i just started typing, with no filters, almost on the end of the deadline and this is what came out of it.

අනේ ටයි මාමේ..

2011-10-16T09:09:00.000+05:30

80, 90 ගණන් වල ඉපදිලා හැදිච්ච වැඩිච්ච් එකෙක් ඉන්නවනං ඒ කාලේ තිබුණ පට්ට කාටූන් ටික අමතක කරන්න බෑ. අමතක වෙන්නෙ කොහොමද? ඒ කාලේ කන්න බොන්න අමතක වුණත් රුපවාහිනී චැනල් එකේ දොස්තර හොඳහිත යන වෙලාව නං ඔලුවේ ගලේ කෙටුව වගේ තියෙනව. දොස්තර වගේද පිස්සු පූසා, ඇයි හා හා හරි හාවා, ගලිවර්ගේ සුවිසැරිය?

ඒ කාටුන් ටික. එත් කාටුන් විතරද අපි කට ඇරන් බලං හිටියෙ? මතක නැද්ද රොබින් හුඩ්, කුංෆු, ඔෂින්, පුංචි ඉත්තෑවා, සුරඟන කතා කරළිය, පිනෝකියෝ, හිම කුමරිය, ජැක් සහ මායා බෝංචි වැල, සුරූපී විරූපී, ඇලඩින් සහ පුදුම පහන, හසරැළි රසාර, පුංචි ඇත් පැටියා, ලන්ඩනයේ අතරමංව, මනුතාපය, මොන්තක්‍රිස්තෝ සිටුවරයා, යවෙස්ලූ මිනිසා?

මේ එකක්වත් මෙහෙ ඒවා නෙමෙයි. එත් අපිට එවයේ අංශු මාත්‍රයක වෙනසක් නොදැනෙන්න අපි දන්න අඳුරන සිංහලට හැරෙව්වේ නොදන්නා කව්රුත් නැති, කව්රුත් ආදරය කලේ ටයි මාම, හෙවත් ටයිටස් තොටවත්ත මහතා.

පිටරට භාෂාවක් අපිට තේරෙන විදියට හරවන එක ලේසි වැඩක් නෙමෙයි. එක පට්ට අමාරු වැඩක්. වචනෙන් වචනේ පෙරලලා හරියන්නේ නෑ නේ. ඒ ඒ භාෂාවලට ආවේනික උපමා, ඉඟි, පිරුළු, කොච්චර තියෙනවද? එකනේ අලුත් භාෂාවක් ඉගෙන ගන්න ඔච්චර අමාරු. එත් ටයි මාම එක කළා විතරක් නෙමෙයි, එක කලේ ශබ්දකෝෂේ තියෙන ගාම්භීර වචන නොදා අපි හැමදාම කතාකරන වචන දාල. ඒ වෙන මොනවත් නෙමෙයි, හැකියාව හැකියාව. වැඩිය ඕනෙ නෑ, දිය රකුස් ගේ ගෝලය චෞ චෞ මතකද? පිස්සු පුසගේ ටෝක්?

ටයි මාමා පස්සට වැඩසටහන් නිෂ්පාදනයෙන් අයින් වුනේ මොකද කියලනම් මම දන්නේ නෑ. ඇත්තටම අපි හැමෝටම අදටත් වැඩිය පාඩු වුනේ ඇත්තටම අන්න එදා. ටයි මාමාගේ වැඩවලට ලඟටවත් එන්න පුළුවන් වුනේ මගෙ හිතේ හැටියට සුර පප්පට විතරයි. එත් ඒ මොනවත් ඒ පරණ වැඩසටහන් අහලකින් වත් තියන්න පුලුවන්ද?

දැන් ඉතින් ටයි මාමත් නැති වුණා. රටට සුවිසල් සිනා කන්දරාවක් ගෙනත් දුන්න ඒ උත්තමයට තමන් කරපු වැඩ ගැන සතුටු වෙන්න මිනිස්සු වචනෙන් හරි සංග්‍රහ කරන්න ඇති කියල මම ප්‍රාර්ථනා කරනවා. දැන් ඉතින් ආයි දවසක පිස්සු පුසා හරි, හා හා හරි හාවා හරි, ටයි මාමාගෙ නම ගහපු වැඩසටහනක් පෙන්නන කොට (බයවෙන්න එපා, අනිවා ආයි පෙන්නනවා. ඒවා කල්ප කාලාන්තරෙකට වලංගුයි, අවලංගු නෑ. ඒවාට ගහන්න බෑ, ගහන්න ඒවා හදලත් නෑ, හදන්න මිනිස්සුත් නෑ.) ඒ මනුස්සය මතක් කරලා තුං සිත පහදවල, හිත සන්තෝසෙන්, පිං වත් දෙමු.

"ටයි මාමේ" ඔබට නිවන් සුව!!!

"Pecha Kucha" .... said what now? / "පෙචා කුචා"...මොකැයි කිව්වේ?

2011-10-14T08:55:00.000+05:30

picture shamelessly ripped off from their Facebook page / ලැජ්ජ නැතුව මුණුපොතෙන් ඉස්සුවා

I missed the first Pecha Kucha. Primarily because I had no idea what in blue blazes it really was. The first event was, to my memory, in the middle of a sudden flurry of semi-famous DJ events with weird names from Europe, the Med.. maybe Narnia? In the end I missed out on what must have been a truly unique event of creative ideas and their creators. That's what this is apparently. A meeting of minds, a show of ideas.

As taken from their site;

Pecha Kucha Colombo is an informal and fun gathering where creative people get together and share their ideas, works, and thoughts in the Pecha Kucha 20×20 format.
Drawing its name from the Japanese term for the sound of “chit chat”, it rests on a presentation format that is based on a simple idea: 20 images x 20 seconds, where 20 images are shown, each for 20 seconds.

With Pecha Kucha now happening in over 400 cities around the world we have discovered that most cities, not just in Colombo, have virtually no public spaces where people can show and share their work in relaxed way.

The atmosphere at the event is urban, chic, and chilled out with the warehouse space filled with relaxing benches, a beer Stand and a ‘Kade’ themed food stall. The focal point is the large screen where the presentations are made and what finally brings this evening together is the exposure of undiscovered creativity from all industries: arts, fashion, photography, and design.

Pecha Kucha Colombo is a non -profit initiative and all proceeds of each of the four events will be donated to a specifically selected charity.

Unlike the famous TED events, Pecha Kucha is a bottom-up event, where its not the proven experts in a field but the ones low on the totem pole, the ones that have a great idea but rarelyt recieve a platform to express it, that do the talking. Which is something to be appreciated I think. Not to mention the abbreviated 20x20 format keeping things alive and not boring.

So if you're in the area, which is to say you should make sure that you're in the area, check it out.

Volume 2 will take place on the 23rd of October 2011 at the Warehouse Project in Maradana. Tickets are priced at only Rs. 100 and will be available at the gate.

ඉතින් ඔන්න විස්තර ටිකත් තියෙනව. ගිහින් බලන්න මොකද්ද මේ වෙන්නේ කියල.අලුත්, නිර්මානාත්මක හැකියාවන්, අදහස් තියෙන අයට තැනක් තියා නොතැනක් වත් නැහැයි කියන කාලෙක, තමන්ගේ අදහස්, එකම රෑනේ කුරුල්ලෝ සෙට් එකකටම කියල දාන්න, හොඳ කස්ටියක් හම්බවෙන්න, මෙන්න කියාපු තැනක්. ස්ලයිඩ් එකකට තත්පර 20 ගානේ, ස්ලයිඩ් විස්සකින් කතාව කියන්න පුලුවන්නං යන්න, ගිහිං කියන්න.

"පෙචා කුචා" කියන්නේ ජපන් භාෂාවෙන් අල්ලාප සල්ලාපෙටලු. අපි ඉතින් අල්ලාප සල්ලපෙට ගියොත් පෙචා නෙමෙයි පච නේ කියවන්නේ. බලං ගියාම උන් දියුණු වෙන එක අහන්න දෙයක්යැ.

For more details, facebook, twitter, youtube and on how you can present your ideas, go here / වැඩි විස්තර ටිකක්, මුණුපොත, ට්විටර් , යුටියුබ් බලන්න, තමන්ගේ අදහස් ප්‍රකාශ කරන්න පුළුවන් කොහොමද කියල දැනගන්න, යන්න ඕනෙ මෙන්න මෙතනට;

pechakuchacolombo.com

facebook.com/PechaKuchaColombo

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p.s. Aamina has some nice pics of the first event as well. see them here

His Last Case

2011-10-13T22:10:00.000+05:30

The dinner party was not at all going as planned. When the doorbell rang that last time, there was a mixed sense of relief and dread; the master detective had arrived. The Captain hastily moved to greet his new best friend. Their small town had been rocked to the core by the sudden brutal murder of Lord Wittlemeyer of Wittlemeyer manor, one of their few residents of note. With lands and properties as far as the eye could see from the gates of his manor and a fortune in the bank rumored to be just as vast, the Lords baffling murder created a scandal no lesser in size to his fortune. But as chance would have it, their little corner of nowhere turned out to be the new retirement of Le Monsieur Pierre; the world's greatest detective. With his razor sharp intellect and vast experience behind him, he and the local law enforcement were confident that they could unravel the mystery of who stabbed him in the jugular with an ice pick.

"Are they all here?" Pierre inquired as he approached.

"Yes. They all came" He replied. "There's no possibility of any of them ignoring your invitation Pierre. After all, the only thing that's been on anyone's mind is if you're going to solve this."

"Oh my dear Captain, but I will, of course. The murderer he is here tonight!"

"What! One of THEM!? Impossible."

"Ah dear Captain, when will you understand? The darkness, it is in all of us. A pretty face or a good upbringing can only hide what is beneath. What is there, is there. Tonight, we shall see!" And with this sweeping declaration he glided away to the sitting room where upon his request, a motley assortment of guests were assembled at my home tonight.

"Now that we all have dined on the good Captain's excellent victuals, I believe it is time for some unpleasantness" Pierre began. We were all assembled in the drawing room for coffee and Pierre was just starting to say something.

"This case has been quite interesting. From the very beginning several things have made things difficult for me. In fact I confess that I may have made a few missteps myself. But now it is clear to me, yes. I now know how to bring about a resolution to this unfortunate situation. I would like to begin by stating that the killer is in this very room!"

The gasps of shock reverberated around people in the room, as open mouths slowly gave way to sly glances of suspicion. The young heir to the fortune stood and addressed the detective with anger and authority.

"I say Sir, I resent this unfounded accusation! What proof have you? None of us in this room had any cause to harm my dear father, as well everyone knows."

"Ah but do they?" exclaimed the detective. "Are all of you who you say you are? You all thought you were so clever, but I know all! I asked you all to confide in me, to explain all that is necessary, but you did not. Therefore I have to resort to this situation. I know everything. I know all of you had motive. I know of the gambling addictions and debts, I know of the secret romances, I know of blackmail, abuse and of last will and testaments and what they contain. I know it all!."

The silence in the room was a tangible as any physical object. The tension was mounting and expressions of everyone in the room suggested that Pierre had managed to unearth something on us all. I was at a loss to how he did it myself and my lack of a poker face wasn't helping my cause.

"But, " Pierre began once more, " I offer a window of opportunity to the one responsible. One chance. I will rest on my knowledge for tonight. I shall wait till tomorrow afternoon to inform the law of my findings. You have till that time to take measures into your own hands and see that justice is done. You have till tomorrow!"

"How did you know??" I demanded of Pierre. We were sitting down in my study for a late tea. The detective had left with the others but he had forgotten his pocketbook. One thing led to another and here we were. Me in my usual armchair with a cuppa while he paced about the room restlessly.

"That you were the beneficiary in the new will where the young Wittlemeyer wouldn't recieve a cent? My dear Captain it's hardly surprising considering how well you took care of him lately. You were a true friend and second son to him."

"But you still suspect me I gather. Money IS the root of all evil." I replied sarcastically and I still did not believe he really knew who the killer was. "I must be really tired today. Feeling sleepy already, I am."

"On the contrary, " Pierre replied. "I never suspected you. Also contrary to your skepticism I DO know who the killer is."

"Really? Who is it then? " I replied rubbing my eyes as sleep seemingly attempted to take me then and there.

"It is I," Pierre replied. " I killed Lord Wittlemeyer."

"You? Impossible" I replied. "Why would you? You hardly knew the man."

"Oh we knew each other better than you know dear Captain. If this investigation were to press further such circumstances would undoubtedly be revealed. He forced my hand. I had no choice but to employ such a brutal method. It was so distasteful."

"But.. but.. you've been... been...... part of... investigation..." I slurred and stuttered.

"How better to know how close the police were to discovering the truth. It was also the perfect way to find someone else to take the blame. I'm so sorry my dear Captain. ' he said, with a most mournful look upon his face.

"S.. s.. someone.. else... blame... ?? " Then it suddenly became clear to me. "The tea... you .. y ...poison.. how.... why... m... me??" I stammered.

"Sleight of hand is a valuable skill in my trade dear friend, it wasn't that difficult to slip something in. And I do wish it hadn't been you, but you and you alone could dispute an alibi I produced when eventually I would be questioned, in addition when I discovered you even had a possible motive.... it was really two birds with one stone."

"You... never. get...... "

"Everyone saw me leave. Noone saw me come back. When they find you they'll find a most convincing suicide note detailing how and why you did it. I've seen your writing enough times to make one of my own"

It was almost impossible to keep my eyes open. It required all my strength and I could feel it slowly sapping away as an immense desire to fall asleep overwhelmed me.

"Tell... me ... why.. " I blurted out with my last ounce of strength. "Why kill Wittlemeyer... you owe.. me.. that.. much."

He looked at me with sad eyes, and in a fleeting moment I saw the facade fall and a true sense of remorse overcome him.

"You're right Captain, I do owe you that much." he sighed. "The reason is that I....."

.........................

THE END

For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Karla V challenged me with "The dinner party was not at all going as planned. When the doorbell rang that last time, there was a mixed sense of relief and dread" and I challenged Mark G. with "the doctor, the sailor, the clown and the tailor...".

අපිට මල් කඩන්න පුරුදු කලේ කවද?

2011-10-06T09:30:00.000+05:30

මේක නම් පරණ සීන් එකක්. ඊමේල් එකකින් ආපු හින්ද මතක් වුණා, ඒ හින්ද නිකන් ඉන්නවට බ්ලොගේ දාන්න හිතුන. මේ පොත නං මම හෝඩියේ ඉන්නකොට තිබ්බ එකක් හැබැයි ඒ කාලෙම ගිය විෂය නිර්දේශ සංශෝධනවල හැටියට මේක ඉස්කෝලෙන් විසිවෙලා හුඟක් කල් වෙන්න ඇති කියල හිතනවා. මතක් වෙන්නත් එක්ක කියල දැම්මෙ.

ඉස්කෝලේ ගිය කාලේ නං අපරාදේ කියන්න බෑ, වැඩි කතා ඕනෙ නෑ, පට්ටම සිරා කාලේ. මතක් වෙන කොටත් සන්තෝසයි, දුකයි.

අපිට මල් කඩන්න පුරුදු කලේ කවද?

For those of you challenged in the nuances of Sinhala I offer the following AFAIK explanation. Please feel free to educate everyone in the comments if you know better.

As accurately mentioned here;

"Mal Kadanawa (මල් කඩනවා) - To engage in flirtious chit-chat with member(s) of opposite sex."

I'm not sure of the etymology of the above slang myself. I've heard various origin stories, one being it came about from a movie where a girl was playing the "He loves me, he loves me not" game. I personally favoured the idea that it came from the abundance of movie scenes where a communal picking of flowers for religious offerings is a convenient opportunity for such a conversation (something I found is not entirely untrue), making the two synonymous with each other.

One other is the page photographed above which is from the standard school textbook for Sinhala for either Grade 1,2 or 3 from some time ago, where a little boy and a little girl are underneath a Sal tree. The dialogue reads;

Amara, Nayana [boy, girl] are underneath the Sal tree.
[Amara;] Look there, that Sal flower is beautiful. Shall I pick it?

I do miss school days.. a lot. (It's not like I was one of the "popular kids", which incidentally is somewhat an alien concept around here.) Best fun I had in my life ever.

2011-07-29T07:56:00.001+05:30

"Lawyers... hmph.!"

She knew she wasn't the only one thinking it. All the other moms in this class probably, no definitely, shared her sentiment as Stacy's mom just pulled the rug out from under her feet at today's parent-teacher meet. "Fine..." she thought, "if Mz.power-suit-$600-an-hour doesn't think two dads are good enough to pull off directing the kids play, she can pay for the guy she wants to hire."

It really wasn't how successful Cindy was that was the problem, it was how she seemed to be a total psychopath sometimes. As if it wasn't enough that she helped push through the company takeover that made most of the parents here lose their jobs and people resented her for it, she continued to act like she was the queen bee and everyone else was her minions. Never failing to make a derisive comment or put down and she always did it with a smile. It was a shame that adorable little girl of hers was also paying for the mother's sins. Not that the mother seemed to show much interest in her anyway. You never saw her at school unless it was absolutely required.

"All right then..." the teacher Mr. Medina was saying, as she jumped back to reality. "I think that's everything covered. So if everyone would like to go down to the cafeteria, we can have a bite to eat, which incidentally can also be your review of the cafeteria food. "

====================

"Mommy, I want some pudding too!" Sam began to cry out.

"I know honey..." she started, "...but they were all out okay? See there's no more there. So you'll have to make do ok?"

"No. No. No. I want one, I WANT!" and she saw the signs of one of his tantrums coming on. "Sam, honey come on. Calm down. It's not the end of the world." she said as she tried to hold his arms and hug him. Sam just twisted away and stood up and screamed again. "No. No. No. I want one, I WANT!" She sighed and just buried her face in her hands. She knew that everyone else thought of her as the perfect soccer mom. Patient and kind, always helping everyone , always with a smile, staying strong for the kids. But this time she couldn't help it. It had been such a tough week and Joe had lost his job as well. This was just too much.

"Hey, Sam Sam, what's with the screaming?" she heard a voice speak out. "I want some pudding too!" Sam replied. "Really? Well here you can have mine. You know what Sam..." She looked up to see it was the queen bitch herself. She hadn't even bothered to acknowledge her presence to her but she was talking to Sam like they had been best friends forever, and Sam was just happily chatting away and munching away on a pudding cup too. Smiling even. She couldn't believe it, so she just sat there staring, silent and dumbstruck.

====================

The meeting was over and they were walking down to the cars. She couldn't still somehow believe that Cindy who was, and still is, the meanest most obnoxious parent she had ever met, had been the sweetest friend to her son Sam for the last 15 minutes. It wasn't something everyone could do. Connecting with an Aspergers child was remarkable, even a high functioning one like Sam. Could she have misjudged her? Maybe there was some long lost deep dark secret that made sense of who Cindy was? Maybe she should give her a chance. Should she?

"Mom..." Sam spoke up "...is Cindy and Melissa coming to my birthday party next week. Everyone from class is coming right?" She sighed, and was quiet for a second as her mind processed everything that had happened.

"No honey, I don't think they can make it."

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Written for the IIWC. I was challenged by Brad with "A trace of evil in every good person, a trace of good in every evil person." Check out Tara's awesome take on a sucky subject I gave her here

Here, at the end of time and reason...

2011-07-21T23:03:00.003+05:30

He walked slowly along the treeline. His steps weighed down by the weight of his thoughts. It seemed to be the simplest of things and yet it was so complicated. He knew what he wanted and it was within his reach. But was he reaching for something that wasn't meant to be? Was it something that was never to happen no matter how hard he willed it, no matter how hard he was going to try? Would it all be in vain? He was playing a dangerous game and his life might not be worth as much as the soles of his worn down shoes by the end of it. He was more than willing to give it all, his heart was completely in it. But this was asking so much. Wasn't it unfair? Wouldn't it be better if none of this ever happened? What was she thinking?

He walked in through the double doors and looked around. No one paid him a nickel's worth of attention, and those who did couldn't care less as the turned away. Except her. Her with her gleaming green eyes and long flowing auburn hair, she looked more beautiful than any goddess as she put swans to shame, the way she was gliding across the dance floor. She turned and saw him enter and she smiled. That smile that outshone the sun in day and outdazzled the stars at night. The smile that was as innocent as a newborn doe and as playful as a kitten. The smile that he knew with all his heart and soul, and yet always had a new meaning every time it came out. The smile that always said 'I know what you're thinking' and always had the answer he needed to hear. And so it did. He had his answer.

He knew they had all the time in the world because she would be there for him always. She would wait for him because he was the one in her heart. Time had stopped, even ended for them. Maybe it wasn't meant to be, but that just meant that they had to make it be. The mere thought of it sent him laughing inside. They were mad to even think of the possibility here, where all these people would only be too glad to lynch him if they found out. They had to have lost all reason, but being madly in love meant that you lost all your reason anyway didn't it? It felt that way for him, for them, here, at the end of all time and reason.. and the beginning of true and undying love.

This weeks response to IIWC made to me by Cedar ,who gave me the prompt "Here, at the end of all time and reason..." Also do check out Tobie's brilliant response to my prompt. I'm not entirely happy with how I dealt with the amazing prompt. Gave me so many ideas, but I just couldn't voice any of them the way I really wanted. Hope this isn't too bad.

Waiting...

2011-07-15T07:53:00.002+05:30

He had woken up in this dingy, but oddly spacious, motel room a few weeks ago. A little hungry and quite a lot confused. The last thing he remembered was the last test that they had him doing and he certainly didn't remember being let out of his contract. Aperture didn't work like that. This WAS the company that took homeless men off the streets in the '60s for testing with the promise of 60 dollars at the end of it.. if they made it that far. He knew that because he was already part of Aperture as a junior tech. He needed the money and they promised a substantial pay bump if he volunteered to be a guinea pig for awhile. Since this was no drug company, he figured he'd be playing around with some tech having some fun for the green. Well he certainly played with some new tech. Although being shot through interdimensional portals, shot at by laser turrets and drenched in kinetic gels with who-knows-what in them wasn't fun all that much. He wondered if it was just 60 dollars he was going to get at the end of the day. He was glad it seemed to be over though. That woman talking with through that robot voice was annoying beyond belief, and what was the deal with her and the cake?

When he woke up he was confused. What was he doing in this motel? Had they literally dumped him off the program? He went to the door and tried it.. and it wouldn't budge. He had pounded on it for ages to no avail. Then suddenly it happened. The groaning. It was so loud. It seemed to come from every side and every direction. Filling his ears and his mind with fear, confusion, and visions of Godzilla rising from the depths. He desperately looked for a way to get out of here. The door wouldn't work, so... the window! He rushed to the inner rooms and spotted a closed window. With a huge sigh of relief he ran to it and flung it open. A visions of bright green hills and a serenely shining sun above them greeted him. It was very nicely painted on the wall that was there on the other side of the shutters where the window opening was supposed to be. He didn't have time to worry about it though as suddenly a huge explosion of sound rose up from beneath him and suddenly the floor shifted, tossing him against the opposite wall. When he senses recovered he saw the floor tilted about 70 degrees and tilting further still. As he tried to comprehend what was happening, it happened again. A loud boom rocked the walls of his room, everything suddenly stopped working, the lights, the TV with no signal, the shower he had running, gravity. He was floating, he was floating! He flied around in midair as his room and everything in it swirled around him. He tried to enjoy the sensation but he was in testing too long and he recognized free fall when he saw it. Also parts of the wall had fallen off and the huge void with glimpses of steel girders rushing past was a dead giveaway. But then, he stopped.

Well it was more like crashed really. The biggest crunching sound he ever heard in his life suddenly erupted below him as the the south corner of the room suddenly shot up towards him. He twisted around in space to land feet first. He knew that the things Aperture put on his feet would absorb the impact. What he didn't know was that the impact would weaken the walls and he would crash right through it and land on the other side. The other side being a starkly white chamber with white neon lighting, filled three quarters with Cheetos that were dropping slowly from a vent in the roof, and a very shocked and scared young girl in an orange jumpsuit cowering in the corner. It was then that the groaning started again.

It took a little while to calm her down. But he made a friend out of her in time. She was a test subject too and had pretty much the same story as he did except she seemed to have been expected to eat a quarter ton of Cheetos in her room or something. They moved into his 'motel room' which had a bed and couches and stuff where they could stay reasonably comfortably and thankfully had also leveled out into a livable angle. But the pieces of wall that had fallen off the sides and the now opening door left nothing but horror to their imagination. They were hanging off the side of an enormous structure, probably miles in height and width, stretching as far as the eye could see. A contraption of steel girders and robotic arms and cranes with levels holding thousands and thousands of white metal boxes. Boxes like theirs. White and sterile on the outside, a dingy motel room, a plain white test chamber and god knows what else on the inside with some poor sap inside too no doubt. They figured out the groaning too. The structure was failing. Metal girders screamed in agony as they snapped and hurtled boxes into the bottomless chasm below. The noise was impossible to ignore but they shut the doors and for days they pretended it didn't happen. Death no doubt awaited them, coming crashing from above or letting them hurtle to their depths. But when? It already seemed like years.

IIWC again. Prompted by Katri, inspired by Portal 2. Check out Amy who wrote on my prompt.

the long road ahead...

2011-07-07T11:55:00.001+05:30

The long road stretched out in front of him. An endless hole of blackness holding god-only-knows-what and he was heading right into it. His headlights barely managed to pierce through enough so that he wouldn't fall into some ditch. The only other light came from the stars that were content to just hang prettily in the sky. At least it was cool and dry. Taking the top down turned out to be a good idea.

He was heading… where was he heading? Home? But then where did he just leave? He had to admit it wasn’t the same since Sue. Sure, high school was a long time ago but maybe that was why things never really were the same again.

She was the one true love and he hadn’t known it then. It had been a long time and a long line of girls since those high school days. But all of them were just like these telephone poles on the side of the road. Each one a meaningless skeleton compared to her, and if you followed the line far back enough, it led back right back to that little place fading in the rear view mirror. It wasn’t home. Not anymore. It was time to move on and find somewhere else. Maybe follow the telephone poles and see if there was a last one waiting for him. Find somewhere to love someone and be loved, somewhere to call home again, somewhere to be happy like he was then in his teenage years, the happiest time of his life. That’s what he wanted to go back to and he wouldn’t stop till he found it.

Suddenly he sighed, annoyed with himself for all the emo rubbish running through his head. His hand reached for the radio dial for some music to shake it all off.

♫ …I don't care if forever never comes 'cause I'm holding out for that teenage feeling… ♫

Neko Case sang softly through the speakers as he drove on into the dark road ahead.

IIWC time again, and this was to the prompt handed to me by Jamelah, which was "I don't care if forever never comes 'cause I'm holding out for that teenage feeling. - Neko Case". A really lovely song. Do check out Drama Mama who answered my prompt here.

A bond with darkness

2011-06-08T23:12:00.047+05:30

A tired heart feels

the weight of its chain mail suit.

A bond with darkness.

Eyes of fiery cold

sees bloody streaks on new snow.

A bond with darkness.

Memories past,

remembering of you.

A bond with darkness.

Murder in the blood

awakes demons inside.

A bond with darkness.

Indieink writing challenge again. I really need to write something that's not a challenge one of these days. :) Anyway, my prompt this time was from the awesome myplaidpants, with whom I've had a very nice challenge exchange before as well. My challenge was "a bond with darkness". First thing i thought was 5 syllables, haiku. So, I tried. :)

Do check out Disease and how he wrote a very nice post to my challenge.

thorny rose

2011-06-01T21:17:00.000+05:30

Jane took a sip of her morning tea, hands wrapped I lovingly wrapped around the mug enjoying how its warmth was heating up her palms while the sip of tea in her mouth soothed her taste buds and warmed her from the inside on its way down. Sitting sleepily at the kitchen table in the quiet of a Saturday morning she couldn't help but smile a little. Everything was just perfect. Ok maybe it wasn't perfect. If it was perfect she'd be sitting in the kitchen of a beach house on a deserted stretch of white sandy beach listening to the waves lapping gently on the shoreline. There'd be a friendly old lady who came on as a housekeeper and they'd chat and she'd tell her tales of the faraway country she was from. No French maids, no way. "No need to give John ideas now." she thought to herself with a chuckle. No this wasn't her little dream of perfection, but this nice and neat, 3rd floor midsize apartment with the nice view of the city, with the nice neighbors in the lovely old building was pretty close to it. Sweet old man Perkins collected got the rent, but they all knew the building really belonged to that fat tabby cat that roamed the halls and sleep on the stair landing just below her floor. She even got that assistant editor job she wanted and things were pretty rosy now. What really made it cross the line into perfection was John, her John, her John with the perfect abs that just walked out of the shower with just a towel around his waist and she just couldn't help but crane her neck around a little and take a peek. They were thicker than thieves for almost a year now and sometimes everything else just vanished in an inconsequential blur to her. They were in love.

"We were in 'love' too!" Wanda wailed the next morning.jane was at office and half the girls had gathered around poor weeping Wanda while she blabbered away her tale of a love betrayed. "She was an older woman too.. one of those 'cougar' types.. thats what they call em right??" Wanda blurted out between sobs. "He kept coming home late and late and never could tell me why properly.. so I followed him one day.. and then i saw them together!!" and she started to cry again. 'She's howling like a wolf and VICI couldn't have cried more tears' Jane thought to herself. "How did you catch on to it in the first place?" she asked. "Well..." Wanda paused in mid sob to reply, and for air. "...he left his phone behind one day and suddenly a call came from 'Lily', and well he wasn't there so I answered... aaand iiit waasss heeeerrrrrr" and Wanda started to cry again. "She mumbled something and hung up, but I knew! I knew since then. You watch you man too Jane, girls like us have to be careful ya'know." Jane stifled an indignant chuckle, bit her lip and nodded a cursory acknowledgment as she hugged Wanda. "Yeah, right! John....pshhh. Never."

"How could you John, How could you?!?!" Jane screamed as she wound up for another throw. She had been an athlete in her younger days and helping out with her nephews little league practices came in handy now as a third saucer went flying at John. Jane was a little pleased that her aim and force was good enough that John had to keep taking evasive maneuvers and the more-than-occasional strategic cover behind the sofa. To his credit though, he had caught the laptop and the Xbox, but not so lucky with the controllers.

"What are you talking about?!?" John pleaded. He seemed so confused. "Good act that" Jane thought "I should get him an Oscar." "You know very well what I'm talking about mister. I saw you two together!! Wasn't I enough for you John, what about all the time we had together, everything we went through.. doesn't that mean anything anymore?!?" she raved as cup number 7 was sent flying through the air.

"Of course all that means everything to me.." John said as he ducked just in time for cup 7 to whistle past the top of his head. "What's happening now doesn't mean anything to me because I don't know what on earth is going on!"" John insisted.

"oooohhhh i dont know aaaanything, im a big baaaaby, i just follow a carrot on a stick with my big spotted nose" Jane mimed.

"Eh? ... big.. spotted..nose... carrot?!? John replied.

"Oh shut it!" Jane retorted. "I saw you two at you office. And you with all the late hours at work and the goings into town all on your own, don't you think I can put two and two together?? It's happening just like with Wanda, and I saw it coming!" Jane fired back.

"Wanda? who's Wanda?" John asked, looking even more perplexed.

"So what's the carrot Johnny boy??" Jane started taunting. "You her slave or something? These cougars are into that kinda kinky stuff aren't they??" she said as his storm trooper helmet went flying out of her hands. It was a bit unwieldy and she missed her intended target by a couple of feet and John dived to try and save it. "Is that what Rose is into??" Jane shot at him.

"Wait.. Rose.. ??" a flicker of a recognition seemed to pass across his face just as John stood up from saving his storm trooper helmet and turned around... only to be so lucky as to catch his old basketball flung at him with considerable speed.. with his face.

"Oh my god!! John, are you alright??" Jane yelled as John crumpled to the floor in a heap with a thin dribble of blood coming from his nose.

"Yeah, I'm ok. I think you broke my nose though." John chuckled back. Then with all seriousness he asked "Jane, how do you know about Rose?"

Jane's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my.. so you don't deny it!!" She half sobbed, half raged. "Of course I know!! You think I'm stupid?!? When you were coming home late I knew something was up so I checked up on you and I saw you.. with that.. that.. older woman! But you know what the last straw was? Thats when she called your phone in the morning and I saw what you had called her.. you called her Rose!! That used to be what you called me, remember.. your rose!!" Jane sobbed.

"No no, honey. .let me explain.." John started. But Jane was in no mood for listening, she wasn't even hearing what John was saying and she wasn't even sure what she was doing anymore. Later all she said she remembered was seeing the broom in the corner, grabbing it and having a run at John. She also remembered John scrambling away just in time to miss her first strike and then he managed to take a dive and ninja roll out the apartment door just as she brought the broom down a second time. All she knew next was that the door was firmly shut and she was on the floor with her back to the door looking at an apartment that wouldn't have been out of place in a warzone.

Just then she felt a buzzing in her left hand. Jane looked down to find John's phone in her hand. She hadn't even realized that in the middle of all that had happened she still had kept in her other hand the whole time. It had 5 missed calls, all from Rose. Rose was calling again now. Jane paused for a second, then hit the answer button and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?" she said.

"Hello, is John there?" a refined older voice with a touch of a European accent replied. She could understand the allure, even she felt drawn by the voice. "No he's away right now. Can I take a message?" Jane replied.

"Oh ok." Rose said. "You must be his secretary right?" and Rose kept going without waiting for an answer. "Well this is his Aunt Rose calling. I'm just calling to check on what happened with the ring. It was so exciting when he asked to meet me in town and then when he asked for the ring.. oh my.. you know we thought he'd never settle down." Rose must have sensed Jane's state of complete shock in her silence and shallow breathing. "Hello dear, are you there? You don't have to be shocked anymore you know." She laughed. Yes I'm not as half as young as I look but thats all down to exercise, diet and some good travelling around Europe. The plastics and the botox didnt do much bad either you knoew." Rose chuckled. "Okay you tell him I called ok sweety? Bye."

For what seemed like an eternity, Jane's head was completely blank. Then somewhere in the back of her head a lone voice started the song "okay what just happened' which was quickly joined by the "Oh.My.God." chorus quickly followed by the "What have I done" quartet graciously sponsored by her beating-faster-by-the-minute-heart and by Adrenaline: the extra power in your veins.

Jane threw the door open and burst through the door even faster than that basketball she had thrown not so long ago. She did keep thinking that maybe her head was as much filled with air and lack of brains as the basketball. She also kept thinking that just like the basketball she needed to plant her face on Johns face too. She was barely aware of any of surroundings as she ran to the stairs and grabbed the banister to leap over the few steps to the next landing.

She didn't really know what her legs hit mid-leap, all she knew was that she hit something that made her go flying the wrong way down the stairs. As the floor came rushing up to meet her, the last thing she remembered before it all went black was that she saw herself heading straight for the sleeping cat and calmly thought "That cat better move asap unless it wants a faceful of Jane."

When she came to she was in her bed. She recognized the feel of her bedspread. As the world slowly came back into focus, she realized it was John sitting there by the side of her bed. He smiled. "You know I was wondering what happened." John started. "Honey, I knew you could get paranoid but this was a whole new side of you" he grinned. "For one thing I'm glad there's a Xena around to take care of me.. that is if you still want me.." he stopped.

"John, I"m..." Jane started to get up but then it suddenly felt like she was inside the spin cycle of a washing machine and she quickly plonked back down.

"Whoa whoa.. don't get up. Concussion." John said as he rushed to her side and sat on the side of the bed. He smiled at her. "I feel obligated to tell you that it was me you tripped over. I was sitting on the middle of the stairs with my head down to stop the nose bleeding. I suppose thats why you didn't see me when you basically kicked my head like a football." he sniggered. "It also gave me time to put two and two together myself..." he continued as Jane went a little redder in the face. "...and to figure out that somehow my late rendezvous with my aunt Rose was somehow misconstrued. She likes to stay pretty. Your age really doesn't show when your face is mostly plastic."

"Anyway..." John continued, "I went to see her because she had something very important to me. My grandma's ring" and he pulled out this beautiful silver diamond ring, sparkling like a piece of heaven. "Nana said I was to have this and I was to give this to the person that would make me happy for the rest of my life when I find her. She said the ring was really about the 60 years that her and Grandpa were happily together, even with the occasional plate throwing contest." Jane blushed a little redder as she wondered whether this was really going where she thought it was going. "If Grandma was around she'd love to have known that I did meet her and that I was going to give the ring to her. To ask her to stay with me so we could grow old together and I would promise all of the things that Matthew in 100 girls promised and most of all I'd promise to keep her as happy as she makes me happy every single day that she's around me."

"Jane..." John said as he turned to her. "Jane, that person is you. I can't imagine life without you now so I'm asking you if you'll stay in mine. Jane this ring is for you, it was always and only meant for you." John held out the ring to her. "

Will you marry me?"

Jane stared breathlessly at the ring, and then at John. That now familiar blankness in her mind returning. Then as she looked into John's eyes and an epiphany struck. In an instant she saw their past, present, what just happened and the future all flashing by and she knew. She knew what her answer was.

===========================================================

this is my answer to the IIWC made by Tobie @ the awesome blog 'Life is an adventure!', which was a lot of fun. I was pretty lost for awhile before this idea came to me out of the blue. There's a place where I used the words and that came to me and then this whole situation kinda happened around it, which I think is a little too cheesy in the end, but I hope you like it.

Challenge: Grab the book nearest you. On page 1 pick the first adjective you come to, on page 12 pick the first verb, and on page 77 pick the first proper noun you come to. Write something inspired by those three words. Please share with us the title of the book you used.

The words/book I landed on are: stick, spotted, nose from Heat Wave by Richard Castle

Independence Day

2011-05-24T15:21:00.002+05:30

“Papa go home, go to bed now. It’s getting late.”

That was all he wanted to say. In his mind the words formed perfectly. He could even hear himself say them with the perfect kind but firm tone with just enough love behind it to show he cared, but not so much that it would make things uncomfortable. But he just couldn’t make himself speak. The lips, tongue muscles and vocal chords he used so well with so many other people, to tell his mother how much he loved her, to whisper in his girl’s ear how beautiful she was, to yell till his throat was bloody while with his mates, now just remained resolutely unmoving. Then again that was nothing new. It had been a long time since he felt he could talk around his father.

They had been fine when he was little. He chuckled in his head as he realized that even today Papa was good with babies and little tykes. They used to do so many things together. Papa took him everywhere and he was so happy to tag along and be just like Papa. Papa was his hero. Papa was better than some comic book hero. He was always there for him. Papa looked just like any other average guy. He was neat, tidy and proper. Papa loved his family. He always stood by them and he made sure they never went lacking in anything. But he was man of few words and he always got himself into a tangle if he had to show a softer side of himself. He was someone that would not let go, not give up and he never backed down nor was afraid to stand up in his own from what he believed was right, no matter the cost. Each time he saw Papa ‘be a man’ as papa himself said, he was a little bit prouder and looked up to Papa a little bit more. He wanted to say how proud he was of Papa so many times.

“Papa, you’re like a superhero aren’t you? I’m glad you’re my daddy!” he wanted to say. But he just couldn’t make himself speak. The lips, tongue muscles and vocal chords he used so well with so many other people now just remained resolutely unmoving and he settled with just smiling as well as he could and hoping Papa got the message somehow.

Papa was easy to look up to in awe when he was only as tall as Papa’s knee. But as he kept growing little by little past Papa’s knee and taller and taller, looking up kept losing that sense of awe little by little too. As he grew older there were more books to read, more schoolwork to study, more girls to chase, more friends to hang out with, more things to do, than follow Papa around anymore. Papa didn’t say much about it except the twenty questions that he had to go through every time he wanted to walk out the door to go somewhere and the angry words ringing in his ears every time he wasn’t back at home exactly when he was supposed to. He was always ‘worrying his mother’. How seething with anger he was then. He was supposed to be out there with his other teenage friends making the best of the best time of his life, but he wasn’t allowed to do that. He thought of how Papa would go on about all the things he’d done when he was young, but now he wouldn’t let his own son go out into the world.

“Hypocrite!” he thought each time. “I’ve always been a good boy, never getting in to trouble, getting good grades. Don’t I deserve to have some fun too.” he fumed.

He settled with just walking grim faced to his room and imagining all the ways he could leave this small town behind. Papa wanted him to keep studying and he didn’t mind that at all. He just didn’t want to go into higher learning for some bland nonsense so he could join the family business and sit in that office next to Papa day in and day out, day after day after day. That was what the family expected of him, just like Papa did all those years ago. He just couldn’t do that. He wanted to learn of the things that would stoke the fires of his soul and see the world in all its brightest and darkest colors. But that was not to be it seemed. Plans were made for him long ago, and he fought every one of them. Fighting hard, him on one side and Papa on the other, to protect the castles he was building in the skies. It didn’t matter that they were castles on foundations of nothing more than clouds and dreams. Then one day, it was their last battle. He was told that the family wouldn’t support him going off and chasing some hippy nonsense to learn. The siege was finally broken. He walked out broken hearted but resolute.He needed some air, some time to think. The castles in the clouds had been vacated but not fallen and their lord was not down but set to wander. There was more than one way to get out of here he thought. He was mad at Papa for going along with the family and for not sticking up for him, for not taking his side. But it didn’t matter now.

“But they can't touch me now, and you can't touch me now. They ain't gonna do to me what I watched them do to you Papa.”

The flag waved gaily as he walked in through the doors. The man inside was very nice about explaining everything to him and telling him how much better his life was going to be. As he signed the dotted line on the papers at the recruiting office he heard snaps, crackles and booms far away. The officer must have noticed the confused and inquisitive look on his face.

“Why son, those are the fireworks. It IS Independence Day you know.”

------- // -------

The front lines were nothing like the brave stories he was told. He knew in his gut that it was all a bunch of baloney. He never thought that it would be this bad. He couldn’t even tell you how bad it was, the whole world was just a giant blur of yells, explosions, bullets, fire and blood. Moving from cover to cover, his conscious mind overwhelmed and barely registering what was happening around him. Thankfully his training wasn’t useless and his body acted as it needed to, running, hiding shooting. To him it all seemed like a movie or a game and he was just watching his body being controlled by some other worldly force.

Then he saw it buried near that rock “Bow-wow’ was leaning on and the haze on his mind lifted. For once his mind was as clear as a summers day and was doing what he had to do almost before he knew what it was. He couldn’t let his buddy die, who else could do those dog impressions better than him. “Get outta there!!!!” he found himself screaming as he tackled his mate and hurled him away. He saved Bowwa, but there was noone to save him.

He didn’t even feel the IED go off. The squad would later find out that it was a lot bigger that what was to be seen on the surface. The momentum it had taken to push Bowwa out of the way had taken him away from where the shrapnel was directed, but the force of the blast was powerful enough to hurl him twenty feet. He survived, barely. He was in and out of consciousness for the first two days. Then on the seventh he slipped into a coma and they airlifted him back home.

------- // -------

So here he lay in bed at the military hospital. Not being able to move a muscle. But now he knew for sure that the stories of coma patients being aware of their surrounding was really true. The irony was that he couldn’t tell anyone since he was in a coma. He felt the doctors coming to check on him and the nurses fussing over him every day. He felt his family and friends come and go. He could recognize all of them. Most of all, he could recognize Mama right next to him, keeping vigil everyday. She was trying to keep it together but every so often the tears would be too much and she broke down. And every time, Papa was there to comfort her.

Papa’s presence was unmistakable as it ever was. Even with all natural senses lost to him he could feel Papa there strong and resolute keeping everything together. Except that one time when noone else was in the room and he broke down in tears while holding his hand. He tried so hard to get his hand to work, to hold Papa’s hand as he was holding his and to say everything was going to be alright. It was just not to be.

“Papa…” he wanted to say. “…nothing we can say can change anything now. Now I know the things you wanted that you couldn’t say. I always knew, WE always knew, but we forgot along the way. I know you love me Papa, and I love you too.”

All those things he wanted to say but he just couldn’t make himself speak. The lips, tongue muscles and vocal chords he used so well with so many other people now just remained resolutely unmoving. Just as they always did around Papa, except now he really couldn’t use them and tears welled up in his minds eyes as his broken body remained a prison for all those things he should have said so long ago. He knew that he’d be out of here in the morning and as he tried to make his peace he wondered if St. Mary would be there for him at the gates.

------- // -------

He had gone through many tough times in his life. Far too many to count, far too many to tell. But nothing he had ever gone through was anything like the agony of seeing his little boy lying in that bed all broken, never to wake up again. You could never tell from his face. He was brought up and he lived by the rules that a man, the head of the family, must always be strong and keep it together when everything falls apart. He did that. When the officers came to his door to inform the family that his son was lying broken at the base hospital, Mama had wailed so much the whole neighborhood heard, but he kept it together. No one knew the agony he was going through inside for his little boy.

His boy. His sweet boy he loved so much. He didn’t see the handsome and broken war hero.He still saw the little kid not grown past his fathers knee that followed his Papa around everywhere. Yes they had their differences over the years but boy was he proud of him and he loved him so much. Did he ever tell him that? Did he know how much his Papa loved him he wondered. It was a good thing Mama or anyone else wasn’t in the room because he couldn’t take it anymore. The tears came rolling down his cheeks as easily as the sobs long held back as he held his son’s near lifeless hand.

“I’m sorry son.” Papa sobbed. “I’m sorry for everything. It’s too late now but I’m still so very sorry. I only wanted to keep you safe, keep you close. Because in the end , after everything all that matters is family. I know you wanted to learn and see the world and be your own man, I swear I never meant to take those things away. Son I’m proud of you, I’m so proud of you. You’re just like your old man was once. Stubborn as a mule and always getting his way somehow. And you did, you got out of this town just like you always said you would. I only wish this wasn’t the way we finally talked to each other…” the old man sobbed. Weariness showing on his face as it never did before.

As Papa started away from the bed and he moved to take away his hand he thought he felt a tiny pulse of movement, a grip so faintly felt it could’ve even been the wind. Papa stopped for a moment. Could it be, he thought. Was his son on his way back from whatever dark place he had been. He waited some more, but nothing more happened. As he settled back to his place of vigil at the window his last hopes for his boy quietly died inside him. From the very first day he had stood at the window for a reason. No one could see his tears.

------- // -------

It was morning when the doctor came on his rounds. He was only a few seconds with his patient when he turned around and started to say “I’m sorry….” The rest of his words were drowned out in a flood of Mama’s tears and cries. Papa went to her side and held her. As she cried into his chest he said “There there now. It’s over now. He’s free. He’s in a better place.” She only caught a few words in the midst of her grief and the cannon fire that started just then. It was the 21 gun salute for fallen heroes at the military base.

It was Independence Day.

This was written for this weeks IndieInk challenge to a prompt made to me by Marian @ Runaway Sentence, who also apparently had been stalking me to get the perfect challenge for me ;) I am touched, and I hope this lives up to it. It was a doozy of a prompt that I dearly loved. The Boss being one of my favourite musicians. Also to check out how Sir answered my challenge, go here

"write a story inspired by the Bruce Springsteen song "Independence Day," and include this lyric from the song in your story: "I swear I never meant to take those things away.""

there had never been a more perfect moment...

2011-05-10T08:56:00.001+05:30

there had never been a more perfect moment to see than when gazes were so deep the whole night sky was in your eyes and there was nothing else in the world to see. Eternity was just a tiny star on the corner of your iris and as time remained our mistress to keep, all the wonders there ever were, in those eyes one could see.

there had never been a more perfect moment to hear, than when words that mean more than a thousand kings ransoms left those lips as sounds that seemed so sweet. So sweet that heavenly choirs would fold their wings in shame, that Adele at the BRITs would seem like fingernails on a chalkboard, that it would bring life to the dead as it gave life to my heart.

there had never been a more perfect moment to feel, than when fingers wrapped around each other so tight that Oxford and Mr. Webster could have had a new definition for entangled, enveloped, enamored....wrapped around each other so tight, hands had no choice but to follow, and then arms, then bodies then faces.. Each following the last like innocent children playing follow the leader till the first one leads you to the secret playground with all the magic.

there had never been a more perfect moment than when gazes were so deep the whole night sky was in your eyes, when words than mean more than a thousand kings ransoms left those lips as sounds that seemed so sweet, when fingers wrapped around each other so tight...

there had never been a more perfect moment to cry, than on that day we said goodbye.

this is my submission to the Indie Ink Writing Challenge, about which I got to know through Disease and Seesaw who made great posts of their own on their turns. My challenge came from Alyssa who gave me this really great prompt; "fact or fiction, beginning with the sentence "there had never been a more perfect moment."". I challenged Sunshine whose answered with this bit of awesomeness.

I've been neglectful and rusty with my writing so I really hope I managed to do some justice to this. It was such a brilliant topic and so many ideas kept on coming. I ultimately decided to stick to this even though it felt like an often walked path, but I know I'll come back to this prompt for so many new inspirations, so thank you Alyssa. :)

picture credits: "Perfect Moment" by Allish on deviantart.com

the first 30 days of song

2011-05-08T08:36:00.001+05:30

As clearly shown by my last post, I'm not exactly one to have a considerable attention span. While I began on Facebook with (what I thought was) quite ample enthusiasm on this "30 days.." menagerie that's been running around, putting up one a day never really materialized. So I'm gonna cheat a little.(yes, I'm very naughty aren't I? :P )

Instead of a daily spam, here's a listeners digest... 10/30 songs.. (this lot'll be pretty much a replay of whats on FB)

01 - your favorite song

Music by the Boss is amazing to me. I love the strong vocals, the smooth tunes, the amazing lyrics and the stories they tell. I like the song, but I LOVE this specific version of it. I think it suits the lyrics better than the original version.

02 - your least favorite song

I consider Crazy Frog, Friday and Baby to be quite legitimate submissions for this category, but just so I don't put up what almost everyone's tired of hearing, here's something else I hate.

03 - a song that makes you happy

Sorry to go a little cliche on this one, but for someone that's not into hiphop and dance music much, I absolutely LOVE this song.

04 - a song that makes you sad

While I don't quite hate this one like dear Black, I literally cannot listen to it without having my gut wrenched 7 ways to Sunday.

05 - a song that reminds you of someone

While my friends would insist that this must remind me of myself (hard to disagree with that sometimes) this was actually an "our song" once.

06 - a song that reminds you of somewhere

One of my favourite songs. In Sinhala, by Rookantha Gunathilake. Reminds of 1 of my favourite places and 2 places I have fun memories and I have no idea why. My childhood home, My A/L maths class and Ambuluwawa where we had a uni batch trip once.

07 - a song that reminds you of a certain event.

Can't embed this. We were celebrating thew traditional new year when this came around so it's a song that reminded me of the good times back in the day when we used to visit the grandparents for new years.

It's Awilla Awilla (ඇවිල්ල ඇවිල්ලා) by Mohideen Baig and Latha Walpola with music by Master Rocksami. (yes, he really is ROCKsami) A fun Sinhala film song that's almost 50 years old and talks about all the great things about the coming of the new season.

08 - a song that you know all the words to

I used this on FB, but I like this one better. A long time Jim Reeves fan, I am.

09 - a song that you can dance to:

not by any magnanimous stretch of the word could you ever call me a 'dancer', nor do I try.. so theres really no song that i'll go dancing to.. so instead this is something that I was memorably made/coerced/forced to "dance" to.

day 10 - a song that makes you fall asleep

this has known to have that sophorific effect on me

P.S. been wondering if I should do an English transcript/translation of the Sinhala songs,should I?

dusty blogs and bookshelves..

2011-03-09T18:00:00.001+05:30

I love to read. I really love to read. Now I'm not the biggest book worm in the world, I certainly couldn't keep up with Rory Gilmore, Gutterflower, Vindi, Halik or the like, but I do like me some books to keep me occupied and considered myself more than your average bookworm. I cant call myself that with a smile or even a straight face anymore. Then again, why would anyone would call themselves that with a smile or even a straight face at all.

And I mean it's seriously bad. I've gone from a book a day to a half a book in two months. I thought maybe the goodreads challenge would spark something, Set a goal I couldn't possibly reach. 100 books this year, roughly 2 a week. Nothing. All I managed was 3 in 3 months. Woeful. Not even the nice haul I got at last years CBIF or the GLF experience in January got me starting something. Which is quite a change from a little over a year back when this little ditty came out of my noggin.

Of course whatever semblance of writing I used to has quietly vaporized as well. Only about 5% of all the posts I've written are left on this blog, rest deleted, and I haven't tried to put finger to keyboard to write something new in ages either. I suppose between the lack of reading , the abundance of academic writing and twitter.. this was bound to happen. I thought of putting something down for the RoyTho since I'm blue and gold all the way. Then I just thought I'd link to an old post I did, which turned out to be missing as well. Joy :)

Oh well.. here's to putting all that behind and starting this whole thing brand new. With some books and hopefully some better writing that you would actually enjoy. Anyway, there's one thing I can always guarantee to get a few written words out of me; an exam. Like the one's I'm supposed to have over the weekend and then again next week. Yay! That's gonna be so much fun!! So excuse me while I go back to some productive procrastination and maybe I'll be back here with something that's actually readable soon :)

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year(?)

2010-12-18T10:02:00.000+05:30

"The first Christmas you remember having is the greatest day of your life.Your family's all together, there are loads of presents, cookies.The magic is alive and well.But before you know it, you grow up. Work and school and girlfriends take over and Christmas becomes more of an obligation, a reminder of what's lost instead of what's possible. And all of the trees and the presents and even the mistletoe can't change that. And then when you get to my age... you're so desperate to get that magic back, you'd do anything to be able to feel how you did that first Christmas.

So what should we do?

Put your scissors down, put your watches back on. We're gonna go out and find some people who really need some Christmas spirit, and we are gonna sing for them." - Glee

I've loved Christmas-time for as long as I can remember. I'm not even of any religious belief that would traditionally celebrate the holiday either. Everything about the holiday I've loved, whether commercialized, historical-ized, musical-ized, emotional-ized or any other '-ized' you can think of. But this December really hasn't gone down too well and it's sad because it's never done that to me before. (so I'm a big baby at heart and throwing a kids tantrum.. sue me)

The best time I had this month had nothing to do with me. A friend of mine was helping out with a program to give some poor children a years worth of school supplies.. and I contributed, as much as I possibly could at the time and actually going bankrupt in the process. But when she came back and told me about everything that happened when they gave the books to the kids and how it was such a happy time, that was really the best moment I've had so far this month. Actually isn't something like that what Christmas really should be about?

So you may be having it hard, but there's someone having it harder.

Help them out, it'll help you out.

If I were...

2010-08-22T15:43:00.000+05:30

- If I were a season, I would be Autumn
- If I were a month, I would be December
- If I were a day of the week, I would be Saturday
- If I were a time of day, I would be late evening
- If I were a planet, I would be Naboo
- If I were a tree, I would be a Sequoia Redwood tree
- If I were a flower, I would be an Orchid
- If I were a fruit, I would be an Apple
- If I were a land animal, I would be a black panther
- If I were a sea animal, I would be a shark
- If I were a bird, I would be a falcon
- If I were a kind of weather, I would be Rainy
- If I were a musical instrument, I would be a guitar
- If I were a color, I would be a dark blue
- If I were a facial expression, I would be a knowing look with a half smile
- If I were an emotion, I would be quietly happy
- If I were a sound, I would be the sound of a cool quiet night
- If I were a car, I would be an Ferrari 458 Italia
- If I were a food, I would be a Black Forest Cake
- If I were a place, I would be a tropical desert island
- If I were a flavor, I would be chocolate
- If I were a scent, I would be that of a beautiful girl
- If I were an object, I would be a teddy bear. :D
- If I were a body part, I would be the eyes.
- If I were a song, I would be 'Thunder Road' (Unplugged) by Bruce Springsteen
- If I were a pair of shoes, I would be a pair of sneakers
- If I were a fairytale, I would be Peter Pan
- If I were a holiday, I would be Christmas.

Misery Bear

2010-07-12T12:48:00.000+05:30

I just cant figure out why this is tagged as Comedy because I just feel sorry for the poor bloke. Nice bit of puppetry I must say. So cute, so sad..

You and I are...

2010-05-31T19:29:00.054+05:30

The bright sun in your blue sky,

Or a teardrop and a sigh?

The shadow following you,

Or just some gum,Sticking on your shoe?

Which is really true?

Pieces of magnet,

Oppositely polarized,

Or maybe simply,

That thorn in your side?

Forbidden Fruits

2010-05-31T00:54:00.001+05:30

You can thank dear Sabby for the instigation of this lovely round of tagging. I honestly don't have that many to put on a list like this. So while i have doubts on my sanity for putting this up and no doubts that this'll come back and bite me someday, here's some of the more questionable famous hotties i might've wanted to tap. ;)

1. Lisa Rowe (Angelina Jolie) from Girl, Interrupted

Well they say there's nothing quite like a crazy person and Lisa Rowe (played brilliantly to Oscar winning perfection by Angelina Jolie) is as crazy as she comes. She is magnetic, rebellious and sharp as a tack. She just crazy awesome.

2. Alexis Castle/Molly C. Quinn from Castle

Yes she's underage, but for someone as awesome as her I'd wait. :D Intelligent, witty, playful, she's downright adorable. Not to mention she's probably one of the hottest teens on TV

3. Tali'Zorah from the Mass Effect Series

You cant expect a geek like me not to toss in a few virtual vixens can you? Tali'Zorah is a young mechanical genius from a race called the quarians. Apart from that great body in the skintight suit, she also drops the most amazing one-liners in game. She's gotta be quite the looker under that mask because you can actually get her to sleep with you in the game and the humans seem to like that idea :D

4. Rachel Berry/ Lea Michele from Glee

I'll be honest, saying I've been watching Glee is probably going to be more embarrassing than anything else I put on this list. But it has been a guilty pleasure, and once you get past the majority of the mediocrity in the first 10-11 eps it actually starts looking like a great dramedy. While this woman is the diva/annoyance, you cant help but wonder how tappable this is if you could just tape that mouth of hers shut. This list is after all about questionable choices

5. Sue Sylvester/ Jane Lynch from Glee

Yes she's old, yes she's gay.. but this cool, evil, sadistic,comedic tour de force is downright amazing and you just cant help but admire it.

6. Death from The Sandman series by Neil Gaiman

As morbid as this sounds, when Death is as pleasant, down-to-earth, perky, intelligent, witty and downright gorgeous as this, she can come and take me away anytime.

aaand the tags go out to *drumroll* : Chavie, Maks and theUnsilent

Dark & Light

2010-05-28T12:18:00.001+05:30

, originally uploaded by D1L1N4.

Shadow dark and light divine,
Interchange and intertwine,
in the mind, yours and mine

Burning brightly you shall see,
The world in fearful symmetry,
As darkness holds you a place
In its cold comforting embrace,
Is ignorance truly bliss,
Or light the apples sweet kiss?

Twilight

2010-02-10T01:16:00.000+05:30

i hear it come. the baying of a thousand demons call out. they beckon me, awaiting my return to the void, and as the cold embrace of darkness envelops me, i stare wistfully towards the passing twilight, and longingly at the last rays of the vanishing sun, stained not with gentle and golden but of violent and scarlet hues, as if from a heart bleeding its life away, as my own heart bleeds for the sun, the sun that took away the darkness and replaced it with light, granted me vision so that i may see hope for a brighter day, gave me warmth so life would spread through every cold and dying vein and that I may rise from where I had fallen, rise to be something more than I was, and everything that I could be, and now I see its passing and I let the darkness take me.