Sunday, 29 July 2012

Cordelia Won't Come

Good King Lear, what is it that you fear?
Is it your kingdom or your soul that you hold most dear?
Look upon the battlefield, at the blood and the glare
At the demons and the beasts that tear asunder your lair —


Old King Lear, what is it that you fear?
There is no sorrow greater than the lost value of a tear
Your body lies frail, your muscles as weak as your mind 
As you’ve driven away all those who have tried to be kind.


Dull King Lear, what it is that you fear?
Your body’s battle is lost — as for the war, do hear!
The firmament bids you welcome to adorn it as a star
For you’re due any moment to give in to Death’s compelling power.


Craven King Lear, what is it that you fear?
Do you hope for redemption as your end draws near?
There is no forgiveness or hope awaiting you round the bend
No Cordelia around this time to nurse and mend —


You thought her mad, of course, when she spoke sour truths?
You knew her wicked, of course, when she warned you ’gainst those brutes
“No sweetness in such a wretched ungrateful child!”
No sweetness in the shroud you sewed for yourself all your life!
Well, tonight as you lie: your final night
There will be no one to watch and mourn your pitiful fight
For dearest, sweet, kind Cordelia is gone
And as much as you pray, Cordelia won’t come.

Monday, 2 July 2012

Checkmate

Half a year has whittled by
With tears left running until they're dry,
Strewn chess pieces led astray
Fallen knights among them kneel to pray
To embittered gods of chess
Who care naught but to scorn and suppress;
Fighting folly play by play
An ill-fated race for those that stay,
Before the last piece descends
Down that dark road where no more amends
Can halt the flowing of years
Into the dark abyss of my fears.

The king of Will has been slain
His subjects slaughtered across the plain,
His queen forced upon by Fate
Her Will silenced without much debate
For her cries could not have saved
A doomed kingdom from the path Fate paved.

Night has crept in silently
Encircling my heart most violently,
No more tears remain to fall
As despair is let loose from its stall
With half a year more to see
The empty chessboard that's haunting me.

Saturday, 21 April 2012

Boo

I really dislike it when people leave their incomplete stories hanging. Then again, who am I to talk? I do the same. :P

There's so much that keeps happening. Not that I am complaining really. "No effort is wasted" is something that I swear by. Still, it is nice when you get time to breathe once in a while.

I've decided that I shall be scatty today. That is, during my breaks from the work that I must get on with if I wish to get a degree and move forward with my life. So I'll be pottering around all day (hopefully) and also indulging in a bit of excitement-induced-chicken-dancing now and then.

See? I'm already scatty and I haven't even gotten started! :D In the light of all that has happened, I am hopeful that the day will be good.

Oh and I started following Nathan Fillion on Twitter! I can't believe that I waited so long! I mean, Castle! And Mal! The guy is actually hilarious. And he even likes Game of Thrones! *shakes head and mutters something about a general pact with self about not following celebrities* Ah well.

So that's it for now. Perhaps there will be some raita that I can rummage from the refrigerator, bwhahahaha! Live long and prosper!

Ciao.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Hushing Hues

Take away these purple shades
When all I feel is blue
Drink all you want to ruddy health
But let me shed this hue

I haven't the craft I once possessed
Nor the cheerful sunny crest
Instead I'm plumed in the darkest gloom
Embedded deep within my breast

Won't you kiss me once, O Sunshine dear?
Won't you bless with your caress?
Or will these storms possess my sighs
As I await your sweet address?

Do spare a thought for a tortured soul
For most wretched is She
Who is bound by stories she must weave
To abide by surrounding glee

'Tis nearing cold, as I am told
And this Winter won't recede
If it's sweetness of Spring's song you crave
There is no tasting this mead

So merry on, and carry on
But shear these colours from me
Wrench them from my sorry skin
Release me to be free!

I shan't keep you long from revelry
Just enough to form the spell
And cast it over my battered self
To ensheathe me with your shell

Glancing at your mirror now
I glide gracefully to you
Your eyes meet mine, our gazes meld,
Your reflection finally true.

Monday, 6 February 2012

Wounds of Winter

There is a reason people hide their pain. A reason why it is tucked away inside the very depths of the mind, lying almost forgotten. Because when pain surfaces and you live through it, every one of your senses burns with an unquenchable fire – a fire that ruins a part of you, a part which can never then be recovered.

And that explains why there is very little empathy all around. If you feel another's pain just as strongly as you would your own, there is nothing that can stop the numbness which creeps in after a while. This cold dread that weighs heavily upon your thoughts does nothing but paralyze your hopes and dreams. So why get caught up in a web of bleak blackness that is meant for another? Then again, if you're unfortunate enough to have empathy as a part of your nature, fighting against it will only get you so far.

Ignorance is indeed bliss, therefore, seeing how burying the hurt lets you somehow live out your daily lives. You smile in a friendly way, talk, laugh and for a moment, all is forgotten... until those tenacious torturous tendrils of torment make their presence felt and trigger a whole new wave of uncontrollable, inconsolable hysteria.

When that happens, all you can do is laugh as you shake uncontrollably, laugh as you cry out, laugh as rivers of pain flow out of you, laugh as the deathly cold enshrouds you most invitingly and laugh as you secretly revel in your own destruction.

Sunday, 5 February 2012

The Athiest


“Well it looks like you’re surprised, young man…”

“You tell me. Should I not be?”

“I suppose an ‘I should have believed my mother’ is of the order.”

“Not really. She never told me about anything of this sort.”

“Oh? That’s strange! I thought all mothers did. At least that’s what they’re supposed to do. Let me check my files…”

“Files? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Oh it’s nothing to get astounded about. Where do you think your lot got the idea from?”

“And you alliterate as well. What a surprise!”

“Tsk. Tsk. Ah yes, there they are! Why, you’re right! She never did, God bless her, if I may say so myself! She was quite the liberal, that one… My, my

“I’m sorry, but I honestly don’t see how my mother and my being here are related.”

“But my dear boy, they are! And even if I do take your poor instruction in these matters into account, the fact remains that you stayed a sceptic.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! Don’t I have a right to believe and disbelieve what I want?”

“And look where that got you. Frankly, my boy, you are, as the younger lot downstairs say, quite screwed.”

“And you’re supposedly just and fair.”

“To those who believe, my child.”

“Well that’s quite convenient, isn’t it? If you ask me, it’s just some sort of a mechanism to lionize yourself. It’s only the sycophants and yes-men that appeal to your taste.”

“Hmm. I’d never thought of it that way… perhaps I should start punishing you now.”

“Oh please! Now I see why the world runs the same way. If you’re the architect, it couldn’t have been otherwise, could it?”

“How outrageous! You should be grateful that I haven’t already packed you off to my dear friend Luci! He has a special fondness for roasting fresh meat.”

“ Threats. So utterly predictable! Tell me one thing, then… if you’ve created everything, and there’s a reason behind everything being the way it is, then why would you need to punish disbelievers? You obviously made them that way every piece of art of yours is purportedly perfect.”

“That’s enough out of you, Mister! Believe you me you will be punished for your insolence.”

“Of course. Even though my being the way I am is your doing in the first place.”

“Hey Pete! Go fetch me the meta data on this loser here! I can’t believe I even let him into the system!”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Ah, you boss around your lackeys too… That’s interesting. Know what? This place of yours is no different from where I came from.”

“Hurry Pete!”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“It’s an interesting concept actually. You’ve modelled your creations based on your own self and inadvertently incorporated all your own flaws into them. However, to still keep the upper hand, you pretend that there is such a thing as free will and get pleasure out of persecuting those who represent your own so-called shortcomings, and blatantly favour those who agree to whatever you say. Blimey, it’s good business all around!”

“Silence! Oh, right here, Pete, yes. Be off now! Right then, let me see —”

“It does make me wonder though... You are insecure, aren’t you? Was it a traumatic childhood experience? Or wait! Did you even have a childhood, or did you simply burst into being?”

“I knew that a day would come when I’d regret making Freud and his ilk.”

“But seriously, why do you constantly need praise and adoration? Is it to fulfil some deep-seated emotional need? Are you a virgin? But then again, you can’t be!”

“Aren’t you missing something here, lad? I exist. You were wrong. Period.”

“That reminds me! Why did you make women get —”

“I’m going to stop you right there, son. I see that you were a lawyer down below. Damn it, I hate lawyers!”

“You swore! That’s actually cool. But won’t the Devil get you now?”

“Who? Luci? He and I are friends, more than friends, actually. We like giving each other space.”

“Wow! Now that was something I’d never have expected.”

“Honestly, son, you really think you humans came up with everything?  What blasphemy! Besides, it’s not even like we have fixed forms... pronouns don’t apply to us, you see. So it’s all cool.”

“Ugh. Wren and Martin’s –”

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I just remembered something.”

“Now really! Do you think they call me omniscient for nothing? Don’t lie to me, son, you’ve dug quite a grave for yourself already... Oh dear me! Dug a grave! I do crack myself up, ha ha!”

“So this is why bad puns are so popular...”

“Hey! I heard that! Tsk, tsk. Such insolence! But no matter, I’m the one scanning your file at the moment – I’d watch my mouth if I were you. My my! I believe (oh dear me, I made a funny! Ehehehe!) your manner of transition was one of the funniest I have ever executed! Oh look, another one! I am on a roll tonight, ha ha ha!”

“Er, is there even night here? Seriously, you are very strange. Could you just hurry up and decide on what is to become of me?”

“Keep that up and I’m going to tie you up and spank you. I get bored so often here – the kinky stuff cheers me up!”

“Heavens!”

“Excellent! Now we’re on the same page! Since you have indeed acknowledged me (finally!) I feel that I could be a tad bit generous with you. After all, you did slip on a banana, fall flat on your cute little bottom and have a stray hammer fall five storeys upon your skull.”

“Ah. That’s certainly very kind of you.”

“Was that sarcasm, you saucy solicitor? I feel as though I may change my mind... Oi, Pete! Come here!”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“What should I do with this doddering disbelieving dodo?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Oh never mind, I forgot I was as asking a Yes-Man. No matter. Hmm, your file is rather interesting. I had almost forgotten all about you, otherwise I’m sure I’d have sent you more ‘friendly’ reminders of my existence. Still, oh dear! You’re actually a decent person, and a lawyer too, how ghastly! It is sure to egg on the other atheists, oh my! Hmm – no, I’m not liking this one bit...”

“Okay! What terrible things did I do?”

“Well, it’s more like the terrible things that you did not do, in spite of being an awfully arrogant atheist! You work for the UN too, damnations! Seems like I don’t really have cause to punish you – apart from the crime of being a disbeliever, of course. But then, sadly, it says here that in the latest Divine Conference I ruled in favour of not harassing such people should they redeem themselves otherwise. Now what would make me do such a thing? Ah! That was the day the absinthe – oh, never mind!”

Okay! So, er, what is the prognosis?”

“Hmm, as much as it pains me to say this, I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know!?”

“I don’t! There’s never been a precedent for your case. The system I designed cannot deal with such an anomaly.”

“Anomaly!”

“Of course, I could always send you back with a splitting headache or disfigured for life... Now that would be fun! And it would also give me, er, I mean, you, more chances to make mistakes. Oh yes! That’s absolutely juicy!”

“What!”

“Yes, yes, I’ll just get Pete to do the paperwork. Here – you need to bleed a drop in this space.”

“No way am I going to go back disfigured! You can’t do that!”

“Of course I can. You do realise who you’re talking to, right? I’ll just get Pete to forge, I mean, clone a copy in your stead.”

“That’s it. I’ve had enough! You’re such a dogmatic autocratic despotic –”

“I’m bored of you already. Off you go then! Bye bye”

“—overbearing –”

“See you in a few decades!”

FIN

PS: Not meant to be taken seriously, with all due respect to Mr. Kapil Sibal and his ilk.