Voyage Of Destiny

Day 6 My Dear Darling,      There has been a change in our plan. Things are not going well and we have been forced to return to out post. The only solace I find in this is that I can write you sooner than I expected to. You might wonder why I am telling you details of our actions.  Do not worry, my dear. It is safe for me to write such vague informs that everyone already knows.      On our way back, we had to hunt some game for food. I killed a lovely deer.  We could not use our guns for a fear of being heard. So shooting it down was not an option. The amount of stealth and speed it required was tremendous. It was almost like a training exercise. It was grazing so peacefully, quite a sight to look at. I sneaked upon it from behind. I stabbed through it's neck even before I landed from my leap. The thrill ran high in my blood, until I saw it's thick red blood gushing from the deep wound. Very soon, I am going to kill people, just like ...

Day 4 My Dear Darling,      Today passed in endless travel. We are not in enemy territory yet. So it is easy to cover long distances in short time.  It is quite sad to see such beautiful places and then think about the destruction the war would bring.      One oasis we passed, I loved the most. Such greenery that makes you feel like venturing deep into the Amazon. The rare, wild flowers kept my gaze fixed on them during our respite. I watched a beautiful red flower devour a stout little bee, reminding me all too well of the purpose of my journey. Survival of fittest. Beautiful and delicate things can be deadly too. Even the savage survival of that blossom I wish to witness with you, hand in hand. As much as the relaxation such beautiful visions give me, they make me feel lonelier, even with us comrades bonding together. I even have one of my good friends from my earlier military service in my squadron here. Yet, it is your voice that I wis...

Day 3 My Dear Darling,     I am glad to hear you are well and that you're staying with your mother. I will feel comfortable also if I know that you're with familial company. Give your mother my greetings.    I am getting deployed tomorrow and I do not know when I can write you again. But tonight, I once again lay awake in my quarters thinking of you. The dark night outside feels baleful, filling me with dread for the days to come. I am supposed to be a man of valor. I ought to be your hero. But my love, I am scared. I promised you I will come back to you. I am going to do everything in a man's power to keep that promise. But my heart asks the one horrendous question. It asks, "what if?", for tomorrow, it all begins.    In the midst of the storm raging in my heart, you stand calm in its eye, smiling ever so peacefully.  You have become my strength, my line of life. Strange how a man goes to war to save his country but in truth fights hardest to...

Day 1 My Dear Darling,      I cannot believe we parted only last sunset. The hours feel like days and I miss you terribly already. I think the sight of you waving me goodbye with tears, in that beautiful blue gown we had tailored last month, is going to stay with my eyes for a long time to come. I have slept not a wink through the night and it is only the first day. I hope you manage to bear our separation better than I do.      Our train just crossed the second city. I sit here on my bunk with my fellow soldiers, writing to our loved ones. Crumpled blankets and creased pantaloons even before the fight begins. I am sure the parchments and this tiny vial of ink will become my most precious treasure through this battle.      This letter will reach you fast as I am not so far away from you. It pains my heart to think that the farther I get from you, the longer it will take for my letters to reach you, and even longer for your ...

Four years ago:    Me: Hey, wake up!    Sister: It's 6 am! Go away!    Me: No! Wake up! I really need to finish this homework.    Sister: Then finish it.    Me: I've been writing most of the night. I have more difficult diagrams to draw. You just have to copy the text I give you.    Sister: No way! Go away! I need to sleep! I came in late from work last night.    Me: I know! I won't bother you again. Please?    Sister: (Sigh and get up) Fine. Just this once. Yesterday:    Brother: Sister, I need your help.    Me: (Look warily at the clock. 11pm.) What is it?    Brother: Just copy these pages in this classwork notebook.    Me: No way!    Brother: Please! I need to finish this! I have a lot to study.    Me: It's late and I'm tired!    Brother: I know! Just this once! I won't ask again.    Me: Ugh.. fine. What is it...

It has been months. We've run out of our rations days ago. My troop of once mighty soldiers now scrawny is the only regiment left, and the enemy knows it too. While it searches for us like a wolf stalking its prey, we huddle in the dark hole, planning our last ditch effort to win the war. It was only a matter of time before we died anyway.      We were hurt, tired, hungry and scared. We had no firearms save the small throw dagger each. There wasn't much to plan either. "Infiltrate. Blow up." A fellow soldier repeated after me. Stupidest plan ever. I know. We need to pick up weapons and explosives from the enemy soldiers we kill on the way to their command center.     We set out quiet as mice, inching our way out of the hole and into the enemy camps. At least five of us had to make it to the command center with enough C-4. I signalled a final goodbye to my best friend and we spread out.     It took me four blood baths to reach the cent...

It was one of those boring days, That it would become epochal I knew not, before I saw you. For that moment, my eyes agaze, Saw our secret, far... Far away, buried deep. So out I set, to reach my treasure, To the endless desert and the mighty river, To the ruin that once was our city. In its unplumbed depths, Buried was our esoteric love, In a scratch decorated chest. Trinkets are they for the world, Treasure are they for me... The plain golden band you slid, On my fingers in the life first. Letters there were, Filled with faded symbols, But I read those words of love, Like I did the first time. I touch those lovely gifts, Concealed here by me, In all our lives numbered. All high and low in their world's worth, But richer than all in mine. I then, leave a new treasure, A picture of us when we met, To feel our love from all our lives, In our next one when I come back, Buried here once more.

Chance encounter, first day Stolen glances, second day Meeting unheralded, third day Tentative smiles, fourth day Clandestine gander, fifth day Absence thunderous, the sixth day, Seat in my heart, taken, I see. Should have sought her out, I know, Follow, to her den, must have But fool I am, abeyant went my heart. Hours long are days now, Moon clock, longer, lonely, For all but me, time-wheel rolled. Sun aft sun, pain dulled Love for you faded, I reasoned, With everything I am, but no, oh no! A quiescent volcano, I didn’t know, Simmering and flowing, dormant fire waiting, Living dead, three long years But today I see, sea blue eyes, Blinding smile, sparkling bloss. To your warmth I walk, through rain so cold, I hold on to the only truth I know, Sealing our lips, feel my heart drum, A torpid beast, awake and home.

A sight to behold she was, The day I saw her in the shining sun. Nervous as an adolescent, Ask her out for a cup of tea, I did. The porcelain in her gentle hands, Eyes looking out over the rim A mischievous little smile playing In her lips sipping the tea. Amused she was a lot, As if she could see through flesh, My heart running a mile a minute. Minutes ticked to hours In small talks and her musical laughs Bewitching me faster than fast. Like a gentleman, my car made her carriage, Leave her at the doorsteps, already dreaming Of the next cup of tea.

I used to think I was in love With music and the people those voices belonged to But then I heard you for the first time Realised what I felt before wasn't love Because I know now. I watched you from so far away You didn't even know I existed Today, I'm walking to you Thinking so far back. The world knows your voice is your lifeline They all know there's no you where there's no song But have you ever thought Your voice could become someone else's lifeline I wish you knew because your voice is my lifeline. I watched you sing Through endless hardships To grow into the man you today are Each of those days all along, It was your voice, that soared though the notes But it was my heart, drumming along, Forgetting the hard life. My days' cruelty bled into my nights Haunting my dreams, Pushing me into nightmares. But you pulled me back, every time, Through your song playing by my bed. I then open my eyes And wish you knew, Your voice is ...

    The art of teaching holds different values to different people. The results of the act depends on the nature of the receptive side as much as it does on the teacher's.  To be that person, each teacher works differently. So who is a good teacher? Someone who works day and night studying the contents they're gonna teach the next day? Someone who is very kind to the students? Someone who keeps their knowledge updated constantly? But are those who are certified as teachers the only ones who can be called that? I would say "no", because I got the experience both on and off the job.    I found it in teaching my classmates the portions for upcoming exams. I found it in training a friend to talk on stage. A guy only moderately knowledgeable in English with a lot of stage fright, he once asked me how I was able to just up and talk about things on stage. I ended up helping him. There never was much time in the class to talk about it so I extended the training to...

Every person in the world loves one sport or another. When it is a native sport, it gets more supporters and followers and one such attention grabbing sport is Jallikattu, also known as Embracing a Bull in English. Mainly practiced in Tamil Nadu state in India, it is an indigenous sport, that has enthusiastic fans all over the state. Jallikattu is essentially a bull-baiting event, where bulls are let to run freely and whoever manages to hold on to it and retrieve the prize is considered to be of great gallantry. Traditionally conducted during the Pongal festival, which falls in the mid-January, youngsters, mostly men, gather in a large open arena where the bulls are held. A piece of cloth is tied to the bull's horns along with any other prize material. The name 'Jallikattu' itself was derived from the very act practised during the ancient times, where 'jalli' or 'salli' means a gold coin and 'kattu' refers to a stack of the coins or 'tied to...