The Exploding Shadows

Royal purple bruises marked the horizon. The sun, the bulbous bulk of luminosity, strained to come out of the restraining shadows. I stood, alone with my thoughts, on a teetering ledge at the edge of a cliff. The rage of the sea pounded against the rocky terrain below. The white foam on the surface concocted pictures of a rabid dog in the dark crevices of my mind. I waited. A seemingly endless wait to experience the victory of light over darkness, a sign of freedom from the gloom and despair that enshrouded me. And then the sun was set free, its brightness brandishing a sword at the demons of the night. And I smiled, an involuntary relaxation, as I witnessed the exploding shadows.

Confessions of an Idealist

My whole life

not how it is, but how it ought to be

exists in an untroubled realm of fantasies
Locked away in a safe sanctuary

unruffled by the roughness of reality

'Tis the greatest, most satisfying escape

There is perfection of the ultimate degree

A place I want to live in forever.

Mia is....

*intelligent*
*deep*
*caring*
*understanding*
*critical*
yet sometimes hurtfully sarcastic.....

Khadeeja is....

*sweet*
*compassionate*
*trustworthy*
*honest*
*helpful*
but a bit too sensitive....

broken smile;

empty eyes,

empty minds,

empty souls.

broken dreams;

empty hearts,

empty hopes,

empty faith.

broken and empty;

loves,

lives,

humans.

ruins of mankind

restoration impossible.

Cracking The SAT: More Like Cracking Open Your Head

SAT is a nightmare. And that is an understatement. But wait, there’s a technical error in the opening sentence. SAT isn’t a nightmare, preparing for it is one. The kind where you run in circles with a four-armed Cyclops after you. The Cyclops is named SAT and the four arms are math, grammar, essay and critical reading.

A 700-page book, a DVD and online resources seem to be the only weapons in my arsenal against the mighty beast. I hesitate. Maybe I’m not ready for this, I have still got a whole year before applying for college. But then I wont have another summer with so much time at hand to master the skills needed to take the test. So I take a deep breath and plunge headfirst into a whirlpool of explanations and drills.

As I get started, it’s actually a lot of fun. The math, the only subject I detest, is surprisingly easy, requiring only basic concepts that one usually studies in eighth or ninth grade. I breeze through the arithmetic, algebra and geometry without encountering a single speed breaker. The best part about SAT math section is that a majority of the questions are multiple-choice questions. Then what’s the problem, you may ask. The problem lies in the fact that even though the answer to the question is right there on your question booklet, all the options seem equally attractive. That is where the test designers set the traps, for every right answer you gain a point but for every wrong one you lose one-fourth of a point. Daunting, eh?

It is challenging but there are ways to grab this bull by the horns and steer it your way.
And having the right resources and a lot of practice helps make it easier. But math isn’t the only thing you need to know to take SAT and gain admission in a good college. Your language skills have to be all buffed and polished too. You might write like Faulkner and Tennyson but still struggle with SAT. All you need to ace the test are a few basic concepts and some techniques to tackle the questions.

And then comes the essay. A two-page essay in just 25 minutes, and the examiners expect it to be well written, well structured and organized. That is just too much to ask. But the examiners aren’t the ones who need to go to college, you are. So you have to play by their rules. It’s tough but the guidelines are easy to understand and once you get the hang of it you will produce exactly the kind of essays the examiners want.

This is what I learned about the SAT when I first went through my guidebook and I’ve been stuck ever since. So all those of you who are about to or are planning to deal with this Cyclops better get your pencils and calculators ready, for its going to be a long and grueling battle.

The Delicate Balancing Act

A baby completes a family
and transforms a household
Happy giggles and anger tantrums
it all comes in a binding package
Sooner than you expected
you get tuned to having the baby
clinging to your hair for dear life
flopped on one arm all day
And the advice always comes in handy
but at times nothing seems to work
And that's when the baby's charming smile
carries you away to total bliss!

fast fast slow

sashaying across

the mahogany floor

gentlemen leading

left foot forward

ladies follow

right foot back

two steps forward

one to the side

fox-trotting

to the beat

of life

lemon

chilli

corriander

sauteed colours

tangy flavours

appealing to

dull senses.

mixed into salad-

a kitchen affair

gone haywire.

Crimson Love

A single rose lay on his grave. Blood red, long stemmed. At the spot where his heart would have been. It lay there, through rain and shine. Just one rose, replaced everyday by a shaking hand. Just one rose compared to the bouquets of hothouse flowers on the neighboring graves. One fresh rose, as opposed to the thousands of wilting blooms around it. Just one rose, a humble sign of undying devotion.

Prom Queen From Hell

Stephen King’s “Carrie” is one creepy read. Books don’t scare me much. Most of what makes up the horror genre is not what as bone chilling or blood curdling as the blurb at the back suggests. But “Carrie” was a unique experience all together; it did succeed in chilling my bones and getting me to check if my door’s lock was intact.

A teenager, telekinesis and hatred that’s been bubbling under the surface for far too long; havoc, wreckage and destruction; King is at his best in this un-put-down-able story of Carrie, the devil’s prom queen.

Exotic Fantasies

An exotic black rose opens its petals to kiss the gentle breeze. The advent of this wild beauty into the chaotic world brings out a new perspective, unravels a new realm of imagination, and brings about a fresh change in a world full of sordid expressions. It takes me on a journey along with a trusted friend into a galaxy of dreams and hopes, where the stars and planets, bursting with potential, wait for a golden touch to make them real. And we move on spinning a web of fantasies, each one as exotic as a black rose bursting out in full bloom.

The Fire That Tamed Itself

I
It started one twilight.
A spark ignited
on a tiny wick.
Threatening to blow off
at the slightest puff.
Many a hands shaded it
but it still flickered.
Precariously.
II
Days went by
and the tiny flame
grew strong
as it fed
on the winter air.
Blue.
Orange.
Red.
It got fiercer
with time.
Fiendish
to the extent
that it ate up
the wick
that gave it birth.
It got hotter
and hotter
and then one day
it perished altogether.
As if some curse
had been put
upon the devil himself.
Its sad demise
was talked about
in social circles
far and wide.
III
It flared again.
Brighter than ever
as if resurrected
by the gossips.
As if its death
was just an illusion.
IV
But this time
it glowed
passively.
Remitting gentle light.
Soothing to the eye.
Harmless.
Inoffensive.
Accepted by all
as a benign presence.
And forever known
as the fire that tamed itself.

My Guardian Angel

Every time I look back, there I see him right behind me, right where he promised to be. Urging me to carry on, I hear this voice, "Take the path you always yearned for".

Tragically, this isn't at all where I wanted to be. I never asked for this. But sometimes life's like that.

I search his face for signs of mock, I find nothing. Instead I find an angelic smile that never fades away. So I take this road, solely because I want to find out where it ends; how far the journey will take my to my destined place or how near to it.

A Memory

I find myself there again. In the most precious treasure in the world - the reserve of memories. I dig out for some beautiful recollection and want to relive it over and over.

Its a memory with that like dream-like quality of a fantasy. I remember fantasizing about it. Its a summer morning, a garden with fresh, crisp grass. Budding flowers of yellow orange and red catch my eye. I hear children laugh and giggle. It is a most vivid recollection. I feel cheerful even though I have never been a morning person, but I'm too into the beauty of the moment than to care for anything else. Little boys and girls are chasing each other in a game. Its a happy world. Perhaps it is, after all, a scene from a childhood storybook.

What ever it may be it, it doesn't fail to bring the same pleasure when relived. That's the best quality of a happy memory.

The Opening

Okay, so finally I'm here. Though I have always been here in my thoughts. But now truly here. I don't really know why exactly I'm here for but that's what I'd like to explore on the way. This is only a personal blog, about my thoughts, ideas, inspirations... a way to simply let out. To put out whatever is on my mind. And this is just the beginning!