Sunday, January 13, 2013

The hero

Courtsey: The Warrior ~by Nuhuup

I seriously thought that the race was over.trophies spluttered the drawing rooms of those odious clans.
All this happened when I kept on walking in the empty rows collecting scrumps of food left by viewers who had been watching the race.
This day was not any different.after my mental scribbling I folded my baricades to sanitise myself again to victory.
This was then that somehow I felt anguished on the death of heroes.and it was not heroes alone who were dead,but also dead were the romantics,the go getters and the idealists.
The gentleman I once knew who offered his seat to ladies,his smile to kids and support to the needy now acted as if grotesqued by his own appearence.

He seemed dead now.

But then why had I killed him,maimed him beyond recognition.
His sautered wounds still throbbing kept glancing those awkard silences at me.
And then I realised that this day had to be different and not only different but awesome.
Why should I think myself as a second fiddle to myself.the bromide has caught me too soon and too much.
But now it had to die and not me.

Enough is a word which when used threatningly can make one reach unimaginable proportions.
Now I had everything although with crippled limitations but even then everything.then why now I don't romance the way as the protagonist of those movies.why I don't find myself as the leader moving further in his office but as a man who would wait for instructions to be thrown at.

The time has come for me to die and for the hero to rise again,from my ashes,yes if he demands so but then he has to rise, alone.


Saturday, January 5, 2013


Courtsey:-sanity is dead by Vickie666

"What are we with the end of end.said he as he silently moved out of the room."

A disbelief froze in front of the tyrants,of those who lived on poaching ideas,succumbing to asymmetric synergies.

A bigger question now gapes through the wound.Has it to be perfection that will control happiness or is it the half satiated ego always yearning for more.

Is it the greed,the lust which has consistently pulled us off our tethers or is it the same irrevocable lust, the sneering disdain which would eventually keep us sane.

Soon it was felt that sanity was the most disillusioned word ever created.

In the garb of sanity we as a collective are promoting the lack of action.action which has been lost over the horde of thoughts.where when every night we tuck ourselves in bed with the satisfaction that we have achieved what we could have.we have belied what was ours.

The one line had spoken volumes and if even know we are proud to be sane then nothing can actually move us,from this death.




The world is a stage

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