The Night Warrior

In the beginning was nothing and…. But how can that be possible, there has to be something. In the vastness of darkness was something or rather someone. He had no form or rather no one had seen him to say that he had some form.

He was the warrior of dark. He looked dark; he was formless. His duty was walking through the infinite darkness and so was his form-infinite; dark or light no one knows, no one has seen. One day he got bored with the silence and so he took out a bow from his quiver and shot it in the darkness.

The bow was harmless and just like a fire cracker sprinkled the space with dots of light. He was happy to see it. Due to no gravity and freezing temperatures the sparks refused to vanish and so they stayed. They stayed like hanging lights. Some sparks were like mini bulbs and the others were clubbed together, they defined no shape. So, the warrior took out a flute from his quiver and like a glassblower blew air into these cluttered sparks. They were now inflated. Now a shape could be defined, they were round and somewhat circular in shape.

He moved covering the space from white ball to orange ball, from orange ball to yellow and finally he stopped at a blue ball. It looked very attractive; so he gazed at it. He took out his flute and started playing the sound of life into it. Very soon the blues got separated into two parts- sky and ocean. The waves danced at the notes played by the warrior. The warrior saw them happy and shot a bow right into this blue ball. There was gravity and the sparks did not stay and fell down. They were scattered all over the ocean. They were shinny, sandy, muddy and formed parts of land. He was happy and wanted to assign a protector to all this. He took out a conch from the bed of the ocean. He blew into the conch and since everything was so happy and the waves were dancing and there was breeze…the sound got transformed into green trees. They were planted everywhere. They stood deep rooted and with their branches joined together showed respect to the warrior.

There was one tree that looked very attractive. It stood firm, had good thick branches; however, unlike the others had no leaves. The warrior could see him in it. He called at it to get a closer look. But the poor tree could not see and fell down with a big thud. Right where it fell was a large ball of mud. The warrior placed it right at its center. He plucked three leaves from other plants and placed these three leaves on this ball. Two were placed horizontally in one line and the third one in between these, a little below. Now the warrior asked it to get up and walk. He was walking and fell into the ocean. There was complete silence. The warrior thought he will not see it, but then something came out. It was not the tree and sure looked different and new to him (can say looked handsome). It was thankful to the warrior because it was his creation. The warrior name it-HE and made him a protector of this land. He was pleased and said this is a land of magic and blessed him and all that was there and went away.

The warrior still moves from one dark space to another. He keeps moving, creating and shooting in the open space with his bow. It is very difficult to say what he would be creating…NOW.

Wacky Flavour #32

Wow! Ice creams. Who doesn’t like ice creams? I love them, I love them and I love them.

So, what flavor should be mine? Basically you are saying that today I can enter this ice cream parlor and make my own wacky flavors. If I concentrate on the “wacky” part then my ice cream can be almond flavoured (I think it will taste good nutty and creamy), then I’ll go in for a watermelon flavoured ice cream (the fruit is so refreshing during summers… and so that should be my flavor #32). How about trying something new for your taste buds and introducing the flavours of flowers. That would be great, don’t you think. I’ll go in for a lilly flavor and a lotus flavor. No reason, they are my favourite flowers.

Where did the ‘essence of my personality’ go in the wacky flavour. That could only mean one thing to me- TEA. I think I’ll like to combine the two. After all it reflects not only my personality but is my identity. My mornings are grey without a cup of tea. And since it’s summers I would love to combine the two. So, a tea ice cream for me, please. The only difference will be I’ll be having it in a bowl instead of a cup. I’ll be eating it instead of drinking it. I’ll not have to boil the water, add sugar and tealeaves but just scoop some ice cream from the box. Oh! and I’d like it to be a little strong, please.

Vending Machine

What all could you want from a vending machine that works like Aladdin’s Lamp only it is not a lamp it’s a machine. It is not small, it is huge and you cannot hide it. It doesn’t work when rubbed but works fine when pressed or touched (that is, if it has a touch screen or the normal buttons to press).

Let me think for a while. Are you sure that I’ll not have to insert coins or money into it. If that’s the case then I would want it to give me some walnuts whenever I’m hungry (I love them). How about cooked home meals, I think I would love that (I hope that it tastes like a home meal too) as it would spare me from going through the trouble of cooking. There are books that I would want to read and hope this machine gives me books of various authors from different genres. And no, it would not help me in publishing a book but just help me to find the real book that I want to read. Medicines and check-ups are expensive these days. What if this machine is capable of detecting the error in body and suggest the relevant medicines or better if it could give it. I think now I’ll let the machine (that’s in the making… somewhere) rest for a while.

Summer is here;

The bright green grass to cheer.

Muddy paths and dust play like children.

Sweat and toil take the human shape.


Dry leaves have rattled away,

Nice bright pink, yellow and orange flowers blooms everywhere.

Summer’s heat, nightingales sing sweet all come by.


Mangoes on the trees;

Ice creams on the plates.

Children go swimming, there days never ending.

Playing all day long, they hardly come home.


Home brings relief.

Indoors smells sweet.

Lemons crushed in lemonade,

bright and refreshing.

Bubbling away in the bubble bath.

My soul quietly drifting from the past.

Relive the past week

Ok!…interesting, so how did WordPress know about my last week? The past week started with a reading of 10 on my mad-o-meter on Monday and slowly had decreased till Sunday.

Monday marked the beginning of the week. I had a good start but had no idea that by the end of the day my maddening degree would be all time high. Had to take a new batch, normally I’m aware of what the batch is all about…and so I’m well prepared. But this was different…had no idea that the batch would be totally different from what I had expected or handled in the past. You get the feeling if something is not working your way and I started getting that feeling. Outcome of the day: I got bored and so did the participants or vice a versa. I kept thinking about the day throughout the week. Now being given the chance to change- I think I would change the day.

Tuesday was ok and so was Wednesday. I was still thinking about Monday and all the how’s and why’ attached to that day. So, on the meter reading, Tuesday was 8/10 and Wednesday came down to 7. Once the maddening meter was down to 7 I realized that I had analyzed the situation from my point of view and so I needed to change.

Now if asked to change the Monday, my answer would be a no. The reason being, I learnt my lesson that, “by changing my viewpoint and by simply changing my angle I got a better look at the situation and it helped me to have a successful session this Monday.”

Thursday, Friday and Saturday were just normal days. No thoughts of changing the days required here.

Sunday went out shopping. Absolutely enjoyed it! Again, don’t want to change it either.

Dinner to Sleep

“Switch off the T.V. and go to sleep.” My mom used to say when I was a kid and so it was.

Now things are different and I’m my own master, doing things differently and certainly my way. So dinner is served and after that I go for a small stroll. It is before dinner that I watch all my favourite operas (that is if I’m free, if not then I watch news or something entertaining).

Now, what else do I do when my mind and body is fully awake. It is better that I should utilize its energy so I just do that. Here comes out my laptop from its bag and very nicely and obediently sits on the table. I start with checking my mails, looking for important articles and reads, searching for relevant things related to my sessions, reading the blogs and finally when I’m done I put my laptop to sleep. Then after switching off the lights I’m ready to catch my sleep express. This is something I do on a daily basis, however, on some days I declare a holiday for my laptop.

When not engaged with my laptop I give my attention to my T.V. set and watch some movie or some entertainment channel or food channel … and finally when I don’t see what is being shown: I know … sleeping time is near, and off I go to sleep.

Then there are a few days when I take a book and read one or two pages or till the time I can understand what is written. Finally when I’ve read too much I switch off the lights and sit quietly for at least ten minutes. I think about the day that got over, the people that I met, what situation did I face, if it was a peaceful day or not, if not how could I have handled it better at work…and tomorrow will be a bright morning. And then I take a long stretch and may be yawn a bit sometimes and go off to sleep. Coming to you sleep…Goodnight dear friends! My eyes closing…closing …closed.

Dreaming Chariots

Dreams are the most expensive chariots that a human mind can invent and afford. So sometimes in the night, I board my chariot to fly to an invisible distant land.

Dreams come to me as I sleep. But sometimes a tired body and mind cannot make dreams…so I sleep. However, sometimes they are so active at work that I’m misguided to believe if I’m really awake or sleep. But I know I could be sleeping here and may be awake somewhere else. Maybe that’s why I feel the shoes that I’m wearing are so heavy when wet as I fell in the puddle of water and the mango tasted so sweet. What about the streets they look deserted and it’s night, it could be the real word as well after all I just read a billboard. I was so certain because I certainly remember the letter”h” from my dream…and the letter “d”. I remember reading the word but what could be the word with a h and a d…no point wracking my brains.

I bet the mangoes were sweet. And what about the colour I could not be mistaken about that had it been a dream it could be read or orange or blue, why yellow. Waking up I swirl my tongue to get the taste…but of course it was a dream. My interpretation would be: waiting for some results or simply wanting to eat mangoes.

Sometimes I’m running down the hill, and all of a sudden I just fall tumbling like the Jill from nursery rhymes – Jill…tumbling down the hill. With a pounding heart I wake up to catch a breath. To me it sounds like I’m running away from a situation and I should make a decision about it or I just need to exercise…maybe I ate too much at the party.

Sometimes people of great importance from the past just come flying in my dreams. It is so hard to tell that they will be gone as soon as I open my eyes. I dream about them when I simply miss them and need their presence in my life.

The other times I dream of shopping, fighting with my sister, or shouting for no reason and sometimes I’m sleeping in my dreams, sometimes visiting my old house. I know they don’t mean anything and are just my heart’s desires or wants.

Dreams can mean a lot sometimes and sometimes they are just fragments of past memories or present situations or a dream for a better future. Dreams can be an escape from the present world to an unknown world. Therefore, I would like to believe that: “dreams are my chariots that take me to a new or a different world that is filled with adventure, mystery, sometimes misery and sometimes a pure bliss to discover. How can I miss a free ride to such a world? So I dream when I have the time and sometimes I take a break.”

But if you don’t dream then…don’t worry. This is also good. I sometimes give my mind a break and then I don’t dream at night the only difference is “I am day-dreaming”.

Little things

I know some of you’ll would take your cameras, some would take laptops, others their phones and tablets and all kinds of gadgets. It will be hard to travel to any location, big or small, without these precious tools.

However, if I were to travel without these things then what will come along with me? I would love to travel like a nomad without any gadgets in my possession. I would travel like a free soul, like a carefree bird and…wait a minute, come along… my curious pair of eyes I will show you people and places to remember. I would take my writing notepad and my personal diary along to catch every moment away from home. Although, it is a little difficult to choose between you two; I think my notepad would be a true companion to travel with me.


Famous… me… why not? Who doesn’t want to be?

No…wait a minute, but thanks. I’m happy the way I’m. I might have changed a bit because of: situations, time and people. After all change is good, not always but you get use to it and you carry on. I have always believed that if you can’t change these three things (no point hitting your head against a wall) it is better to change yourself according to them. Changing for survival is needed, however you can’t let go your true identity or your true self.

I admire the famous celebrities. Each one different and they all deserve the fame. I’m sure they would have worked hard to achieve it and therefore should enjoy it. However I don’t want to be anyone.

I know I’m one of a kind and nobody exists like me, other than me of course. So why should I abandon the original me to be a copy of someone other than me. Famous or infamous why should I care?

You may not know me and I may not be world famous… yet. But I’m famous among my friends and a star celeb to my mom. It doesn’t really matter if I’m a celebrity or not, what matters to me is : who I’m and what I’m. And only by accepting and acknowledging this will I lead to my destiny.

Art that I grew up with

Imagine if smoking could be a lost art, however, it is not. Listening, which is an innate quality in humans is a losing art and writing letters is already a lost art. Here are a few things that I consider as lost in time as I have not seen anyone follow it or do it in a very long time.

Making dolls at home

Now days we get all sorts of toys in the market, but there was a time when toys were carved of woods and dolls were made of pieces of rags. My grandfather did a lot of carving but he did not carve me a car or a flying eagle. However, I remember my grandmother used to make me dolls. I had other plastic dolls but I loved her doll the most. I don’t know how she made it but I just loved it. She would take pieces of clothes, some sketch pens and some black wool for her hair. I don’t remember if she used rags or cotton to stuff the doll or if she simply folded the pieces and stitched them together. Although I have seen some handmade dolls in the market but it is nowhere close to the one that she used to make. They either use plastic or wood for the face, hands and legs and their bodies don’t have any kind of stuffing in it. Hers used to be of clothes, pieces of clothes from top to bottom and nothing else. As I don’t remember making dolls the way she did I think it is already a lost art now.

Making a cassette of your favourite songs

We all have our favourite songs and favourite singers that we like listening to. I remember making a list of my favourite songs, and then collecting it and recording it in cassettes. It was difficult as I had to crunch the list to 10 to 12 songs only because that was how much one cassette could record. It sounds like a lost art to me as no one does it anymore.

Wrapping gifts at home

How about wrapping gifts at home? Invitations received, gifts bought, gift paper bought now the final question who will wrap the gift. After my grandmother I was the official person to wrap the gifts. I would make bows and tie it with a ribbon. It was then that I came to know that wrapping gifts was an art. It’s always good to receive gifts and an element of surprise could bring a smile not only to the face but to the heart as well. Wrapping the gifts just adds a magical touch of surprise to any gift. Now it’s easy- gifts bought, no gift paper required, no hassles, gift wrapped at the shop, arrive at the venue, gift it to the person.

Making and gifting handkerchiefs

It was very common to make handkerchiefs and gift it to your best friends or fiancés or even husbands. I remember some aunts and some girls sitting with their embroidery boxes and stitching the first letter of the names of their husbands or fiancés. The others who didn’t have any specific person to give the handkerchiefs to would make beautiful rose or any other flower on the piece of cloth.

Making handicrafts from simple things to decorate houses

Making handicrafts from simple things available at home, I think this is also a lost art. I remember making wall hangings from plastic bags, cardboard pieces, old calendars and old cards. These were mainly for school’s craft work project for the children. Old cards were used to make magazine holders and were found hanging on the walls. Making disco balls from the collected chocolate wrappers and vases, clocks from the collected ice cream sticks were also commonly found as decorative items at homes.

Making garlands and bouquet at home

We had a big garden and there were flowers of all kinds. In the evening my sister and I would collect flowers and sit at the veranda. We would collect enough to make small garlands from it. Flowers were also collected to make small bouquets to gift people during their birthdays and other special occasions. They were never huge but it was the gesture that counted. Cutting a few roses along with a few daisies, arranging them at the center with some big leaves and tying it with ordinary thread and my simple homemade bouquet was ready. I remember at school everyone tried to impress the teachers by giving a flower or a simple bouquet.

Repairing your own bike

I remember my father repairing and servicing his own scooter. He used to take care of it as if it was his own child. Saturday was its special day as it used to get its bath, then the nuts were tightened, check the tires, change the battery water and finally the engines were checked. These days it’s just convenient to drop it off at the service center.

These are the things that represent art to me. I associate them not only with love, dedication and affection but they also represent creativity and art which is now either lost or is replaced with new things.

In response to: A Lost Art