Grey skies

Mordia, Arvin Province

Ragged, starving and looking to quench his thirst, the young boy stumbled across the alley way.. three days had passed since the invasion of the Luryta.. columns of smoke dotted the city.. the crows above the city could see a pattern amongst the sea of red below.. dead bodies laid strewn across the once proud Mordia.. a picturesque summer retreat for the royal family.. now reduced to burning ruins and the stench of rotting corpses.. the crows were certainly the victors in the spoils.. the invaders had left last night.. yet the lad was not taking any chance.. chaffed and blood soaked.. the gash in his forehead was the least of his problems.. slowly dragging himself.. his chaffed and raw soles scraped the cobblestones as he made his way towards Gryndors.. rivulets of Mordian blood still streamed down.. now assailed by the stench of his dead elders, he saw his friend's body lying motionless at the West Gate.. Now was not the time to grieve, he told himself... Friends come and go.. Mavin had said.. You however... must survive young one.. he had said..
He now shook himself free of his thoughts.. as he stared at the barracks to the west of the city.. the pride of the Province and in turn Mordia rested on the red building that met the boy.. a place abuzz with new recruits lining up outside for training, veteran soldiers returning from a harsh campaign.. or the Grey Hair council members visiting from time to time.. Mordia's barracks was known to the empire as breeding some of the finest spearman for the Emperors of the Lynea Dynasty.. Now an eerie silence filled the air.. the boy slowly lifted his gaze to view a strange sight.. perched high above the barracks laid a spear.. impaled on it was a soldier.. a new recruit who'd joined a week back.. another son lost.. another brother joining the army of the dead.. his brother.. Prilo Atrius was just sixteen a week ago as he'd joined Mordian Regiment Hurta.. the most celebrated and revered.. some said to join them was to be the closest to becoming an immortal.. time immemorial had remembered the Hurtas of the days gone by.. long after their ashes had been cast to the Atrax ghosts.
As the young boy looked at his brother's motionless body, the Hurta maxim "The spear guides our path", the sight seemed a cruel joke played by the gods.. He felt no pain.. no loss.. no grief.. no sorrow.. for in that moment, the silhouette of the dead Prilo across the dark, grey sky served as evidence of the universal truth.. Flesh and bones had said Mavin.. that's all we are.. pawns for a higher cause young one.. that bastard was sure right.. but where had he run off to?

As he walked towards the ruins, he saw an arrow riddled corpse at the entrance.. Captain Ascarius of the Hurta.. a war hero to many in the city.. a life of celibacy had probably spared a woman her anguish and sorrow.. but there might probably a bastard born somewhere to carry out the Ascarius line..
All of a sudden, the boy slapped himself.. again.. and again..  and again.. strangely feeling as if someone was coercing him into this ritual.. to test whether it was real or just a phantasma.. "Alas" whispered a voice, in it all "Grey clouds again dear Atrius.. wake up now.. wake up.. lest you lose yourself in this again"..
The man awoke with a loud cry.. as he stared wildly.. the silken sheets, the quilt on his table.. the swan feathers at the helm of his bed and the sweet incense of morning sticks.. all felt out of place.. As he gazed at his heavily bandaged chest and turned towards the archway to search for the words that seemed so familiar in the days of old.. He sat in the silence.. oddly comforting yet an ideal companion.. Breathing heavily, Blydwen slowly lifted himself from his bed and gazed outside.. still dusk outside.. yet it was a grey sky that still evoked the grim feeling.. of an existence void of soul.. but for him, it was just another dream to add to his other visions of innumerable souls whose lives he had ended.. Blydwen of Atrius was not a mortal.. not when grey skies cast an eerie shadow on the land below.

This might get me killed! - the Dhakkan RaGa collection

What the fuck is wrong with Rahul Gandhi, I mean, is he really that mental? The dude was laughing at his press conference that day (not smiling in modest defeat) but laughing out loud (LOL style) literally. And in between when his mother was talking he was winking at someone in the crowd. Yes, winking, don't believe me, Youtube it. Who does that, no , why would any one do that man, seriously, what is wrong with him.

 The arrogance was quite visible (the "I don't give a fuck attitude" I mean) and we now officially know that he doesn't really care if he wins or loses the election, becomes the PM or not. Italy beckons for the silver spooned heir (not so) apparent.

Your mother hosts a farewell dinner for the outgoing PM of ten years and you go on a holiday out of the country. Seriously man, how can you do that, its like he was just waiting for the elections to get over, all tickets booked and travel plans ready, and the farewell dinner was a sudden plan for which he couldn't cancel his tickets(may be he had some special discount tickets for still in power party secretary). The worst was, poor congress low level spokesperson had to defend his quick getaway by saying, "after such a long election campaign, he deserves a break to relax" and the journalist he was talking to was almost laughing at him.
Jokes aside (not really :P) the PM was a nice guy man, everyone wants to be nice to him in his last few days, your party has already laid out plans to blame his governance of last five years for the loss (for your pathetic performance basically). The least you could do was stand next to him and his family for a photo-op. Shove a Gulab Jamun in the poor guy's mouth, whatever, just show some respect man, the guy is double your age.

And what about that interview (Yes the one with Arnab). What was he thinking man. Arnab is a guy who can blow up entire countries using just his words, and you go to him with 10th standard board exam type mugged up answers. RTI in government and Women empowerment(AIB made a nice tune out of it as well ( they are cool people man, crazy shit  they do))

And what about the election campaign(yes the har haath shakti har haath tarakki( also the one inspired by Diggi, kattar soch nahi yuva josh)) Seriously dude, not even a dumb parrot was repeating that. Get lessons from Himesh Reshamiya if you will, but come up with something catchy man.
Ok enough, my wife tells me I have ranted long enough and going further can actually get me killed(I solicit protection from the RSS).
So enough for now, someone tell him, its better to retire in some Italian village and have pizza and wine for the rest of his life. Leave the government for much able hands(Oops, I meant lotuses :P)

Screen Time

We jut can’t get enough of the screens in our lives can we. From the work computer to the home computer, the tablet to the smart-phone. We are surrounded by LCDs, LEDs, OLEDs and what not.

We have, as a people, have become information junkies and these screens are our suppliers, they keep us hooked, whenever we need our fix , we just need to look at them. We keep checking the screens, for new information, some notification from some source, and the information gets old as soon as we look at it, sometimes, without even processing it we just swipe away notifications. Our brains decide within the first few moments whether the notification is important or not, and crave for more soon after.

This obsession with keeping our eyes and minds busy looking at screens has meant, that we almost never have any idle time. The time, that our ancestors used to do the most important thing we have been born to do, think! Where is the time to think in between all this, how can our thoughts develop, how can we form opinions about issues. No, reading an editorial from a big newspaper is not forming an opinion, that’s just agreeing to someone else’s opinion because we ourselves don’t have the time to form our own. What about enjoying nature, to bask in the glorious sun, walk barefoot in the lush green fields, feel the wind in our hair, get soaking wet in the rains pouring down, in fact these days, when it rains, we are more concerned about one of our screens getting wet, rather than enjoying the rain. As the poet W.H. Davies wrote back in 1911 in his poem :

What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows.

These lines seem more relevant in today’s times than ever before. We are moving away from nature and getting trapped in these screens of ours. We drool over beautiful pictures of water falls and mountains on Instagram, but don’t take the effort to travel and see these places for ourselves. How can looking at digital pictures of a place ever match up to actually being there, its unfathomable. And worse is, when we actually do travel to a place, rather than enjoying the place itself we are more interested in taking meaningless selfies and sharing them instantaneously with everyone we know. Its almost like the purpose of our visit was to click pictures and share.

Is this what we are? information junkies, addicted to consuming information on our screens. And what will we become in the future, will we ever walk out of our homes, how many days can we go without any connection with nature? And what about human connection? Will we be able to form genuine, warm, relationships with people in such a world dominated by technology. Would we have real conversations with real people or just chats and instant messages with weird user-names.

When Television, the very first screen, was born. It was called an “Idiot box”. People ridiculed it, and terms like “couch potato” came into existence for people who obsessed with it. But it also pioneered a great information revolution that has shaped our current society. Since then, people have not dared to question the advancement of technology and its encroachment into our personal lives. And it has brought us here, in a place where we are obsessed with technology, we keep checking our phones for more notifications, we keep refreshing our mailboxes, we keep logging into facebook in the middle of a work day, staring at the same pictures again and again, the same stupid status updates that mean nothing, the ridiculous check-ins which have no relevance, it never stops, and we never want it to!

We are afraid of getting bored. We have lost the ability to keep our minds busy on our own, and we are substituting that with more useless information. And with things like smart-watches, and the Google Glass of-course, we will have these screens slapped onto our bodies as well. Imagine, a screen always on your eye, feeding you with information all the time, right from when you wake up in the morning till you sleep at night for some shut-eye. It will be like an endless supply for a helpless addict. All the time will be Screen time. And when people will stare at stars in the night sky, the screen will tell them what they are called and what constellations they belong to, how far they are from earth, and how long will it take to reach there on a spaceship. The beauty of the twinkling star will be lost, forever!!!

This post first appeared on medium

Screen Time

The thing about ART

You look at a painting, a sculpture, or any piece of art for that matter, how do you judge it? how do you decide if its good or bad. Do you have to be an expert in the field to criticise it? Or you can just go ahead and tear apart someone’s hard work just like that, someone's sweat( and blood in some cases) should be given some respect right? But what if in spite of all the hard work and skill its just not good enough, or at least you just don't like it that much to come up with something good about it?

The thing is, anything creative is a recipe for great disappointments as well as great joy. Whatever you may do, how so ever good you may be, you cannot escape criticism (I am not going to re-count all the great artists in history who have been ridiculed and then later celebrated for the same works(the list is too long and don't feel like so much research) any-who). Bottom line is, you cannot escape criticism, and its important to not let it get to you.

So the real question is not how  you as an audience respond to a piece of art(you can say whatever you want), but instead, how the artist responds to the wide range of responses he can get from a wide range of audiences. Without sounding preachy, I just want to say, as an artist, you are already doing something great by pouring your heart out onto a canvas, or a piece of paper, (or a blog post :P) you don't need to subject yourself to the pain of criticism, at least not take it too seriously. And also, not take the appreciation too seriously as well, create something only because it makes you happy, not for an ego massage from yes men. Let onlookers have their opinion and be amused by it, that's all.

I know all this is easier said than done but that doesn't mean it shouldn't  be said at all. Our eternal desire for appreciation leads us to use our creativity to sell ourselves, we can be on the top of the world one day and at the bottom of the ocean the next. The trick is, to manage to stay on the  the same surface every day. :)

Prologue

The Year of Our Emperor Maximilian

3:5240:Day 23

5 bulos to port Aldaeron

Standing over the cliff overlooking the vast expanse of the Atrax desert, the man took a deep breath.. Pondering over what he and the last of his remaining band of rebels and misfits had seen over the last week.. Parched throats and weary bodies were more of a welcome relief now.. With what had been chasing them since the Forests of Muino, the howls and screams were etched in his mind.. Piercing at his conscience with each passing moment.. Not the finest chain mail nor the swords from the skilled blacksmiths of Brathenwark could have saved the poor souls from what had befallen the now ragged remains of the 67th legion.. Magus Andarion joined the man now and looked across at the distant snow capped peaks of Armen, beyond which lay Ravenshold, the lost city now believed to be haunted by the Arcane and the unknown"Seems we should have asked for more for all this... Trouble.. Don't ya think? Wonder what's to come in Aldaeron.. We are still many bulos away from Elkaar.. That bastard better be ready.. All em rumours regarding his legion.." The raven haired man barely batted an eye lid, ignoring the words spoken by the Mage. Instead, he focused on a small speck in the sky.. Slowly growing larger as it approached the pair of men, an odd contrasts of sorts.. the sinewy frame of the man was complimented by a blood stained armour of Moinlesten steel and a large oak shield on which his fingernails seemed to play a slow rhythmic beat... As the speck grew larger, the kestrel landed on the man's left shoulder with a small roll tied to its feet.. The man now turned his attention to the roll as he reached it for one handed, without missing a beat in the oak shield.. Unfurling the scroll, he betrayed no emotion and with an almost inaudible grunt, he stroked the kestrel and folded the paper away into the folds of his woollen shirt, tucked snugly beneath the heavy chain linked armour which were stained in purple.. Andarion gazed at him, hoping to elucidate a response from his companion.. None came... Time passed and with the skies turning a heliotrope hue, the man finally looked down to see the lamps burning bright in the sleepy seaport below as the inhabitants slowly began their preparations for the festival of La'Niestro Crila.. With one hand on his infamous scimitar, the man finally lifted the oak shield with the other onto his back and turned to Andarion.. "Grim tidings. No more 68th to support us on our voyage. This town may not see another Crila, Andarion. Best we move swiftly and without attracting their attention." Andarion wasn't surprised by the man's decision. "As you wish, Lord Vorin. Isn't there a way to warn the denizens?".. Elkaar turned slowly to unsheathe his scimitar, radiant and glowing with an opal hue feeding of the magic stone in its pommel.. "Evil comes for this land, Andarion.. Fate weaves it's own thread for each of us.. For the people below, it seems the conjecture is with an untimely Death.. One whose avoidance isn't as vital as the Emperors orders." As he turned to walk away with his back to the panorama behind him, Andarion shivered inspite of the blazing heat of the desert.. It was no wonder that few men didn't pee themselves when they met the Scourge of Ashda, Lord Elkaar Vorin.

They lost a plane!!!

They did, didn't they? And now, they can't even find the debris. I mean that is so unfathomably ridiculous. They have been to the moon, they send out space ships and robots to Mars, apparently they even found traces of water there, but no, no traces of Flight MH370 on our good ol Earth.

That is so hard to believe, with all the technology in the world, they would lose an Airplane of all things. Its not like they have to find a needle in a haystack, ok maybe, you can say that the earth is so huge, and finding that plane is like a needle in a haystack, but its still not, is it? I mean, they had all the information possible, they were tracking its flight path, with all that Air Traffic Controllers, there is constant communication of the pilots with Air port ground staffs, all the safety measures that Airlines take these days.(Its not like it was a balloon on a trip around the world(Even those balloons can get tracked these days))This is the sort of situtation Airlines prepare themselves to handle, with all those measures they take, and yet, when something like this happens, they don't know how it has happened, and they don't know where the freakin' plane has gone. All this seems too fantastical, and I wouldn't be surprised if JJ Abrams gets an idea to make a TV series out of it (O wait, he already did it 10 years ago didn't he(did he do the time jumping thing and create the series from events in the future?? its too ridiculous to believe, but then again what isn't these days, end of brackets))

It sure does make flying a very scary experience now, more so for the so many already nervous fliers. And God knows what Malaysian Airlines will have to do win its credibility back (personally, I feel it should just be shutdown and all the top officials should be sent to jail (but then again, I'm the weird guy who talks in brackets! don't listen to me)). And imagine how badly this will hit Malaysian tourism(one of their formost industries), will people still want to come to Malaysia and travel Malaysian Airline?? (Malaysia-truly Asia anyone??) God only knows, but they are certainly not helping their case with the search operation. I just get the feeling someone somewhere has made a teriibly stupid mistake, and they don't have balls to admit it now, they are trying a major international  cover up.(Yes I have just watched "The Fifth Estate" and this feeling might be an effect of that, but still!!)

Efforts to find the debris are ongoing , and many nations are trying their best, while it has already been declared that all aboard are dead and family members should not expect anyone of the 238 aboard to come back, but finding the debris might be very important in bringing closure to the loved ones of the 238. It is important that the "people in power" realise this and get some concrete details about the whereabouts of the flight.

I know what I am saying has already been said many a times  before and hardly anyone of importance is ever going to read this (please don't mind but you are certainly not the Malaysian Prime Minister) but  as I said in my earlier post, we are here to unload (quite literally!!!) our minds and we shall never miss an oppurtunity to inflict this pain on the rest of the world. Shit ON.



 

Shit Hits the Fan Street!!!

No, I dont know what the title means, yes I know thats also our address right now, but I still don't know waht that means, Rahul (One of the Co-Bloggers) suggested this and we are  going ahead with it just because we like the sound of it (and until Ashay (Another Co-Blogger(O!! Bracket inside a bracket, this is really cool!!!(Can I keep doing this??(Ummm...Maybe not))) can come up with something better, he has been known to be quite experienced in matters of SHIT. I better close this bracket now, its getting really long, ok ). So, as I was saying before this never-ending bracket, I have no idea what the name means.

But I do know the feeling behind it, what it really means,  its spirit(way to get mushy, this will definitely get the girls going(ok enough with the brackets already)). It means Shit!!!

Apart from Fuck(ok F**k(don't get offended please)), perhaps Shit is the most versatile word around, you can use it almost anywhere and everywhere in every context, to every situation. And its less offensive, people don't mind it that much, its a natural thing after all (as if Fuck (ok F**k) is not).
But you get the gist. So Shits got everything going for it, nice utility, less offensive, people use it a lot so its quite popular.

We take in a lot of stuff (shit)  day in day out from a lot of people around us, and we just felt it was time now to give some of it  back to the world. So this is our way of protesting against anything shitty in the world. You may think this is a place to rant (it is indeed that). If you also want to join in on the ranting do let us know, we may have a few(a lot) vacancies here.

 So, looking forward to putting out a lot of similar shit in the future (and I'm sure getting it back as well). As they say: Shit happens (they say Love happens (depends on who is "they"(shut the brackets up))))