Akane?

She looked out of the window of her majestic emerald green palace, sipping a goblet filled with the kingdom drink, Yakult, while she pondered over the fate of Steven Taylor’s infamous locks. The ones on his head, that is. Cursing in Japanese as her Yakult gave up its last few drops, she turned on her heel and walked, painfully slowly, swinging her arms erratically as she went. Lost in her own world, she started humming the words to some unheard of band called Air-o-Smeeth, dancing her signature dance with lots of slow motion head banging and arms moving in some strange circular motion. She went along this way, that is, until she turned the corner and bumped into a tour guide, along with twenty other people who’d come to visit the palace ground. Frozen in mid-action for a second, she blinked twice, mumbled something incoherent, and ran off.

Thirsty from her escapade, she went in search of more Yakult. The servants, not daring to meet her eyes, announced that the kitchens had run out of stock, but they could offer her some sushi if she so desired. Harrumphing at their incompetence, she returned to her room. Turning the lock, she opened her cupboard and, out of a secret compartment, took out another box of Yakult which she kept for emergencies. And if anything, this evening definitely required the drink.

For someone was coming. Someone special. Someone who’d enchanted her with his first sadistic smile. With his first maniacal laugh. With his long, lanky, sallow and pale figure. Those seemingly heartless eyes had caught her heart. And she alone knew that he was misunderstood. All he was looking for was a compassionate soul. Who would understand his true genius, his love for the audio-visual art. He was looking for her. He just didn’t realize.

Neither did his betrothed.

Sighing melodramatically, she plonked down on her bed. She picked up a book , but threw it away in frustration as the anxiety wouldn’t let her concentrate. Stomach in knots already, she tries meditation. Realizing the futility of it in about five seconds, she gets up and yells in release, calling for the savage hound that roams the grounds, Oregano. The huge beast leaped towards her, growling, knocking her off her feet, yet she seemed unperturbed by his ferocious behaviour. “Aww, aren’t you adorable?” she cooed.

To the normal eye, the answer would be no. Quite the opposite.

Her sibling strolled in, holding the latest version of castle security and ninja training software. Puzzled for a second by her sprawled position on the floor, the giant hound bounding at her feet, he dismissed this event as another normal. Reminding her of the official meet in five minutes, he walked out.

She picked herself up, starting to get ready in a frenzy. How she hated these formal dressed up meetings. Yet she remembered, he would be here.

Walking the fastest she could, which could still be called a slow ambling by most people, she reached the banquet hall where all the guests were mingling. Grabbing a glass of Smeernov, she sipped quietly in the corner, searching for her most awaited. She felt claustrophobic with so many smiling, chirpy people around. How she wanted to just grab a goblet of coffee and sit in the palace library.

But ah, there he was! Standing, signaturely, with one hand in his pocket, and another in some weirdly dramatic position placed on his face, he was like a myth. Too good to be true.

She sighed, blissful in simple observation when suddenly, she caught his eye! He was coming towards her! What was this! Hyperventilating yet supremely excited, she walked extended her hand towards him. But then, there was a loud ringing! What was happening?

Her eyes opened! She opened her phone, and checked the time. Groaning at the lateness of it all, and the unfortunate timing, she yelled across the room. “We’re lateeee!!!” The sound of a muffled “Five more minutes” came from across the room.

She got up in a panic. “Wake up, wake up!” As she started getting ready for another usual day, she remembered her dream. Then she realized.

First lecture.

Him.

This would be interesting.

This one goes out to you. We began as strangers and now we’re…well we're pretty much family. Happy birthday.

Caution: Random Shit Ahead. Tread Carefully

Be gentle, young paduan. For the waters that take you along with them are swift, unwavering, unswerving, and harsh. They will shape you. They will shape you to be cruel and unrelenting as they are. They will storm around you, beat you, break you down. But you must not let them break your spirit. For it is your spirit that guides the heavens. Your spirit that will, one day, cause a break in the clouds, and let the mellow sunlight filter through to light the world again. The waters shall curse you for breaking their rule. They will try to drown you with their strong currents.

I almost didn't wanna post this. What might people think? But then, this is my blog.
And I couldn't possibly deprive the world of such a gem of a rambling.
So I thought, let's post! Let's post like no one's ever posted before! Let's....

Erm. Never mind.

Incessant Buzzzzzz

Everything seems plastic.

All the "love yous" and the hearts and the "I miss you!"s. And then all the "You don't love me anymore, you didn't comment on my new status!" Somehow it all seems fake. Too much of a utopian-Barney-the-purple-dinosaur type of society. I don't know why, all this love seems like a desperate plea for attention, for acceptance. Like, underneath all the glitter and sparkles, you're saying "Please, remember me too!"

Humankind is thirsty for love. Fact. We hunt for it, beg for it, cry for it, fight for it, steal for it, kill for it. Why? Because as humans, we want to feel assured of our social....likeability. (Yeah, no, I'm not sure that's a word.) Is it that suddenly, having tons of "friends" on Facebook denotes how popular you are? Is the red notification sign comforting somehow?

Yeah, actually, it kinda is. Makes you feel wanted, in the loop. In some strange way. Yeah, I know it's stupid. But I always thought humans were not the smartest of primates anyway, contrary to popular (not to mention misguided) belief. So what does it matter.

Social interaction is a necessity, for the most part. If you disagree, you wouldn't be reading this blog in the first place. But. Butbutbutbutbutbut. There comes a point when social interaction becomes obsessive. When you can no longer function without your phone without getting twitchy in a matter of seconds. When you refresh your homepage every few seconds to catch up with the latest "happenings." It's a sad state of affairs, and we're already hurtling deep into they abyss that is social networking. Which has a no-return policy, by the way.

Mental Retardation

Who do you turn to when you realize everything's collapsing around you? Like you're Caesar, and the pillars of Rome are going timber... alright so Caesar was killed before Rome collapsed, but imagine if it had happened in front of his eyes. With such pride he saw Rome prosper, and then one day, everything just...fell. In slow motion too, like a feather falling from a great height. You try to blow and keep it afloat, but in the end gravity will have its way. And you can do nothing about it except watch it go down.

Down.

Down.

Who would Caesar have turned to? Who cares about Caesar, who do I turn to? Some friends wouldn't understand. Others I can't burden. Yet others would judge. And some are the cause of the problems themselves. Why is it so hard to remain happy? With depressing souls I just want to grab them by the collar and slap them, like they do with white gloves in those funny movies. "Get over yourself!" I'd declare. "Learn to smell the roses! Learn to smile! No one gives a shit about how your life sucks!"

Alas. Some of us remain incorrigible.

Getting back to the issue here. When someone who doesn't usually complain about their feelings, suddenly gets an overload, who would she unload on? Not on her unsuspecting friends, oh no, but on this anonymous blog. Well, as anonymous as it gets. (Yeah, hi, I know you know who I am.) When someone who prides herself on her diction can't seem to get out a coherent thought in explanation of they way she feels...well, there's a paradox. I've got it all figured out of course, with the amazing analytical skills that I have.

Ahem.

The conclusion is that such a person cannot divulge weaknesses without the disgust of being thought of as weak. What a superbly abhorrent thought, being deemed weak, defenceless. How dare they. Don't they know what I've been through? Don't they know what I can do? Do I?

The fact is, maybe such a person is not infallible, indestructible. Fuck 'maybe,' no one is immune to the casual downfall. Even Rome succumbed. We all do.

I forgot the point I was making. Oh yeah, so without feeling uneasy about revealing weaknesses, I freely regurgitate, if you excuse the slightly icky image, my thoughts online. The Internet is truly a wondrous invention.

But don't get me started.

Countdown

What if you were faced with the realization of your own mediocrity? What would you do if you realized your lack of worth? What would you do if I told you that your life was meaningless?

I give you three seconds to think about it. Till then I'll go back to pondering over the fate of a lone pine cone.

Three seconds.

Muse

The verb. Not the band.

I can't sleep. Too restless. Therefore, I have decided to write another rambling post about the many random ramblings in my mind. For example, why, as a media student, am i so blissfully unaware of what's happening in the world? It's like a paradox really...I wonder if doctors keep updated with the latest House MD episodes, although its not quite the same thing. Speaking of which, why isn't thunk a word? Doesn't it make more logical sense than "thought"? Who makes all these annoying rules about how we should talk? To that group of elderly crackpots sitting at a round table (or maybe rectangular) discussing more arbitrary rules of grammar, I say, stuff it. Freedom of speech is a human right, after all. Although incorrect grammar is jarring on the senses...hmm. The power these old folk have, the exhilaration of...wait for it...inventing grammar.

Power is a funny topic. (As a sidenote, just recently I was cured of the impression I'd always been under that Atilla had been woman. All these years, I'd imagined a nun (hun, nun, same difference) charging, sword drawn, yelling "This is Spartaaaaa!" End of sidenote.) Back to Power. Yes, personified. No one knows why, upon attaining Her (yes, it's feminine) people suddenly lose their sense of self. Become overly pragmatic. Delusional. Sadistic. Egoistic. Tainted. Corrupted. Maybe Machiavelli would know. And God. And AS (what do you mean, you've never heard of him?) But besides these three legendary entities, the rest of us are just pawns to our our mind games. And why, exactly, do humans think so much? Which genetic glitch made us fall prey to our own musings? I ask you, yes YOU, weren't we happier eating fruits, swinging from trees and picking bugs off each other?

Bah, evolution. Christmas is 9 months away. Sigh.

Imperfect

Come walk in silence. Through rain or shine. Through thunder or sunsets. Come walk, and maybe let's talk about mundane things, simple things, like ketchup with paranthas. Or coffee shops. Let's talk about dreams, about ambitions, about desires. Let's learn through each other. Let's cry together, laugh together. Maybe we'll hum a tuneful song. Maybe we can sing off-key. Maybe we'll dance through puddles. We can look up and smile at the streaks of sunlight streaming through clouds. We can smile at the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.

Please don't shut your doors. Please don't suffer alone. Please, sense me beside you.

Let's rejoice in silence, in our footsteps.

Let's rejoice in ourselves.

Let's rejoice.