Kryptik's dreams

The Black in the Grey- Our Story

2009-12-24T01:49:00.000-08:00

Its been a while since I did grasp

This old pen that belongs to me

And fumbled, just as with your clasp,

Attempting to spew poetry.

Oh yes, nubile, prospective love,

In order to extract pity

I wrote line past line just reeking of

Teenage sentimentality

I pour out my heart ,I rave and rant

Pen what I think appeals to you

And borrow phrases from Nietzsche and Kant

Oh, hell, why not, I'll use 'em too!

And thus I hope to replicate

Fruition formulaic you see

But going at your snailpace rate,

You’re already but boring me.

Shall I sink now like ne’er before

To deplorable planes of contempt

To despair, should I now resort?

Describe my suicide attempt?

The warning bells do hint alarm

Don’t talk about your fucking ex!

Succumb to my apparent charm!

Reward me with gratuitous sex!

So are you then just dumb as hell,

Or perspicacious beyond belief?

To see past my beguiling, complex shell,

Oh end my misery and grief!

Don’t make me say that I love you

I’m a commitmentphobic sociopath.

Oh wait, Success! Third base will do,

Time now for the disappearing act.

Prologue

2007-05-08T11:15:00.000-07:00

"......riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.".... The opening sentence of James Joyce's Finnigan's wake, which completes the last sentence of the same book.The device is a grammatical representation of the cyclic theory of history Joyce proclaimed in his masterpiece.We never change;.The same story, with different names,nationalities and beliefs, but same nonetheless,History repeats in altered settings;caste attrocities with a role reversal become affirmative action,still settling for the provided minimum,still proud of a 2000 year old culture that is somehow prone to being corrupted by violence and sex on screen,still getting Math Board papers checked by Hindi professors,Don gets a pair of oakleys and a Saville Row suit,"Kaliyon ka Chaman" gets a gyrating babe lip syncing through the dhinchak beats...Don't get me wrong....I'm not complaining;All of this inspires me.Really.I love this place.I love this smell,the redolence of freedom, I love the tearspassiondespairhope of life. And make no mistake; my generation is a cynical one, and i'm not a leader or the official scribe; I'm just a representative.But isn't it time to break away from convention?Just like history repeats itself like a record player playing backwards;in greater diameter...Things get larger, more exaggerated, more profane with every successive generation.Elvis's polemical gyrations caused just as much ado in the 60s as Eminem's lyrics did in the 21st century.Evolution, you may call it.The world needs a large, violent explosion to snap out of its reverie, and this time, the effectors of that explosion shouldbe YOU! YOU godforsaken little miserable souls living out your miserable little lives, slaves to consumerism.Thats right, I MYSELF am not the ticking bomb;I'm just the alarm clock.-Bhavivakta P.

A TRIBUTE

2007-03-03T12:06:00.000-08:00

"You know, I think that if i hadn't confronted you today, and if I hadn't accosted you despite you blatantly ignoring me, this idiotic fight may never have got resolved. Both of us would have gone on to lead our respective lives, and i think we'd have done just fine.But maybe someday, ten years down the line, you'd actually remember me and maybe feel a twinge of regret, but you'd say, whatthehellitwassolongago, and THAT, Neeru Chauhan, is the biggest tradegy in your life."

I spoke these words to her on the 22nd of 'february, 2007.That evening, I got a message from her:
A wish in a corner, deep in my heart,to be friends forever, and never be apart,Hope this bond has a long life to live,trust is the only thing that i can give....Dont worry meri zindagi me ek tradegy nahi hogi aur wo ye hai 10 yrslater mein pachtaongi nahee....galtee ek baar hui par ab nahi...I'll never lose you...I'm sorry nikhil! :-,(

On the 24th of February, at about six P.M, ,we spoke again.I remember the conversation, not because it was the longest or the most pleasant one we had, but because it was the last.she was in a hurry, and promised she would call later.

Dearest :-,) [My pal Neeru],
I honeslty don't know what to write.There are so many things left unspoken, so many things left undone. I never thought i would lose my best friend.I can't believe this is happening. Even when I first heard about the accident, i was so sure thatyou just had minor injuries or something. I was making plans to come look you up on Sunday and when Rama told me about it later,I prayed to God.I tried to calm down.I tried calling up everybody I knew.
I can;t believe you're gone , and i don't want to.I have few friends, and you know much you mean to me. I reallycan't imagine life without you. It feels incomplete and jaded. I don't want to come back here ever again.It's too painful.I can't even begin to imagine the pain your parents feel right now, and I'm really sorry for them. I'm sorry for every stupid thing I said, and everytime I made fun of you.I'm sorry for telling you that you stood no chance against me in the lecture competition. I was joking( and you knew that then too). I'm so happy thati got the chance to make up with you and be friends again. I can't imagine what I would have felt like had we partedon sour terms or not made up.
I miss you every waking moment. Are you in heaven, or have you disintegrated into oblivion? I don't know, but either ways, you ARE with me.All the time. I feel your presence. I don't know if I'm imagining it, and I don't care how insanely stupid I sound.There is still one thing that needs to be completed. You know what it is.And I promise you that I will do it.Be talking to u......
Your best friend,
NP.

DIGRESSION:THE RAPE OF INTEGRITY.

2007-02-10T11:01:00.000-08:00

You think up a novel idea, one that can help people, and run into a wall of corporate bureaucracy .
You project a certain result for a research, say 'chalk', but you end up making cheese.
You are taught to celebrate Alexander Fleming and William H Perkins as models of Scientific excellence, when their discoveries(Penicillin and Mauve, the worlds first synthetic dye respectively) were accidental.
You read an Ayn Rand novel, and are overwhelmed by the integrity of the protagonist.
You list her among your favourite authors on Orkut.
You think you know what integrity is.
You actually think you possess it.
You don't.
You have no idea.
You probably don't what the world does to people with unadulterated integrity.It rapes them.
You probably have at some point in your life surrendered to the world,ignored your integrity.
You probably don't even remember it.
IT IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR ANYONE TODAY TO HAVE TOTAL INTEGRITY.
You want to do research, and so to get into a decent MSc program, you must study 12th Standard material.Yes, nothing on the kind of research you want to do, but 12th standard material.
You score 1510 on the GRE but theres another bureaucratic hurdle to cross; ur too young.
You think about doing a Roark, going to Remotesavia and working there, but they wont finance you, or pay you,and they'll make you write a research proposal on Stem Cell biology and make you develop Biofertilizers instead.
Your SOP was so good, somebody else did the same thing 8 years back, and actually made 15 million blings off it. Now there is no way for TIFR recruiters to distinguish between you and some halfwit Shudra who copy pasted the same article off the internet.
You start to have a superiority complex over people from the reserved category, which is sad because that is an insult to some of the smart people who happen to fall into the same . But on the other hand, you cant help noticing that 99% of them are truly dumb and intellectually challenged. You then begin to ponder upon a genetic reason for this .
You start out writing an article on integrity, but end up writing on the reservation system.

OUR POEM.

2007-02-10T10:40:00.000-08:00

The fuzzy silhouette of a cloud
upon a sky so blue
Assumes a familiar shape,
And makes me think of you,

Just like one sanctimonious,
wont admit what may be true,
You know I hate to say this but,
This poems overdue.

Our friendship is all gone now,
Drifts further every day,
It could've gone out in blinding flash
But it chose to fade away.

The way you supported me,
Through every loss and gain,
I'll never trust another friend
THAT same way again..

City Lights.

2006-11-16T19:41:00.000-08:00

He lay back on the backseat of the car, as it sped along the highway. The bright street lamps formed two long, flowing streams of orange that moved in the opposite direction."Lookit that," he said.Even to himself, he sounded intoxicated, even though he knew he wasn't.
There is something comforting about the night in a big city. The dullhotlifelessness of the day gives way to the cool, bright city spirit; something born out of the nothingness of the souls she contains within, but alive with feeling nonetheless.
"Janaki's getting married, said Harsh, the driver,nonchalantly, but he couldnt smooth the edge off his tone, Jit looked away from the orange light-serpents, and said ,"Oh.Its hardly been any time,hasn't it?" and felt stupid immediately as the words left his mouth."Too, bad,",he thought, "I guess she never belonged to you in the first place." His thoughts wandered to the office, the hot chick in the lift,the crack cocaine that could have had him intoxicated at that very instant.Harsh was silent, and had begun to accelerate, gently weaving through the traffic. They reached The Main Square, and the lights of the shops alluringly beckoned the passerbys to buy THEIR tvs,THEIR clothes,THEIR condoms."Fuck you,thought Jit,"All of you,I love each and every fuckin one of you!"Giant Mickey Mouse smiled and unsmiled periodically.
"I'm putting on too much weight, thought Harsh I'd make a God Damned workout schedule, but God knows I'm not going to follow it.So whats the point? "I guess Janaki and her boyfriend are celebrating with champagne....Chardonnay or Pinot Noir, I wonder...?"A Fiat Uno sped past them."If you ain't got no money, honey I got your disease.."Axl Rose trailed off.
"If I asked you to kill me, would you do it?"
Jit looked up."What did you say?", all trace of intoxication gone."Nothing,Jit,just nothing..."said Harsh.
Jit lay back down, and kept glancing at Harsh periodically,unsure of what to say.
"This is my life",thought Harsh, and drove on.

Aneurism

2006-11-13T13:06:00.000-08:00

Aneurism, in my head,
Pounding rythhm, kills me dead.
Kill my pain,it wont end,
Not again,it wont mend.
Cut went deep,broke my heart,
I can't sleep,fell apart.
God help me,so confused,
Feel so angry, and so used.
Dont stand there;just observe
i'm laid bare, don't deserve.
Blood is warm, flows in spurts,
Does me harm, does me hurt.
Aneurism,in my head,
Pounding rythm,kills me dead.

Kryptik's dreams

2006-09-11T08:55:00.000-07:00

Kryptik's dreams Note: All posts have no connection with whats happening in my life.They are all products of my imagination.

Don't look back.

2006-09-11T06:28:00.000-07:00

The room was artificially heated.It was the kind of winter night that makes one feel cold, yet comfortable.He, however felt all the blood rush to his face,making him flush."I must say,letting go of you has been like swallowing a vanilla essence bottle seal, and just like the bottle seal, i couldn't do it."
He looked up, and couldn't decipher her expression."I'm happy that you're happy, thats all that matters.....Do you know,when my mother dropped me off at the hostel for the forst time,she was pretty sad,I mean, ive never seen her cry before...It was pretty shocking, and as I begun to ask what was wrong,she said,"Go,don't look back."Thats all.As I turned to walk away to my room,I saw out of the corner of my eye that she was still weeping silently.But I walked on, and I never looked back.."
"Why are you telling me all this?", she said.
"I mean I know its the only way to get rid of the pain, but I'd rather live with it.....I have to,its all about the choices we make, isn't it?",he continued,sounding dazed and distant,yet loud."I have enloyed the best times of my life with you, and the happiest, but then you fell out of love with me.. just like that.But when you left , and the dust had cleared, i realised that the happiness was still there!Surprising? I then realised that my happiness was MY response to you; not what you brought into my life.I was responsible for it, not you.But I must thank you for introducing me to it.Thank you so much.I shall forever be indebted to you."
He produced a bundle of letters,carefully encased in bubble wrapping."These are your letters and photos.I don't own them anymore.He put the packet down on the table.He held out his hand.She took it, and he gave it a firm and warm shake."Goodbye, goodluck, and Godbless", he stated in a monotone, got up, and walked out.He didn't wait to look back at her.
Thw wind was cold outside.It bit into his skin, and made it easy for the tears to flow out.Barely able to control them, he walked on,oblivious to the world,disconsolate but upright,miserable but resolute, and didn't look back.

What I am........

2006-09-05T11:59:00.000-07:00

The wound may heal, but the scar will remain,a scar that disfigures my heart and erodes awaymy sanctity,my soul,my peace of mind.Yet, i shall not seek revenge,for revenge is for those who hold grudges, and after the dust settles, and all the bitterness bubbbles out,all i have left is love;vociferous,stinging,caustic,burning,passionate,overconcentrated,pure,unadulterated,love.And i think its a crying shame to let it all go unreciprocated and unattended, but so it shall,down the drain where it now belongs,down the gutterpipes of my soul, begone with you,harbinger of my downfall,until i am left in solitude,alone.Alone in the resounding hollowness of the memories, those fucking unforgettable vestigeal shards of my broken life that refuse to lodge from my wound.......

THE PHOENIX.

2006-07-29T15:23:00.000-07:00

"Its not your fault.... My descision totally", he wrote, mirroring the immortal thoughts of Freddy Prinze Sr..He nervously looked over the three letters he had written;one to each of his parents, and the other to that fictional yet ever enduring entity they called God(A letter denouncing him, and his existence).This was it; the end,where he would discontinue to live,where the pain would all end,along with the memories,the suffering,the bloodsweattearslovehatemusic and all the other miscellaneous constituents of his wasted,essentially purposeless life.The internet,useful as it always is in such circumstances, provided him with a sure fire method; A simple,everyday, easy to use vanilla essence bottle seal.(Swallow it.If you dont choke on it and die immediately, itll rip your intestinal tract out and you'll be digested from the inside! Unbelievably simple! Guaranteed effective!! Completely infallible!!!).He pondered for a moment, why people would create sites like these with so much apparent enthusiasm.He chortled for a second, and suddenly admonished himself for letting his mind stray from the serious task at hand.He ran the innocous looking seal over his palm.
They say depression is the result of irregularities in the brain chemical level.They have no idea.No person can actually understand or explain manic depression, until he has gone through it himself..Its like a physics professor trying to explain why people find rainbows beautiful.Experience gives you insight into a situation that books will never be able to.True perspicuity can never come from the theoretical confines of written material.Brain chemicals my ass.
His hands were shaking as he placed the seal into his mouth, and a torrent of thoughts burst forth from his brain, pulsating and hitting him like digitized trucks,tearing him apart from the seams...
pain......
kill......
life.....
end.....
love....
please....
mom....
love...
pain.....
kill.......
die......
now......
must.....
force....
pain...
burst....
love....
mom....
pain.....
kill.....
He forced the seal down, and let out an angiushed wail, he could push no further...A sudden wave of self hate streamed through him,and he swallowed till he felt flesh tear... He spat the seal out, and it rolled over the floor. leaving behind a thin trail of blood.He felt the warm, steady, salty trickle gently flowing from the inside of his throat..He had done it.He lay down and waited for it to end.He had finally done it.He never thought he'd have the guts to pull it off,but he did! He had never felt so calm,and as he quietly waited for it to end,he visuallized his mother.Two tears gently rolled down his cheeks, and suddenly, everything had become clear.."I hope i dont die" were the words he kept thinking as the tears and the blood streamed on.He drifted off, slowly.
He woke the next morning,when the early morning sunlight hit his face.He didnt remember what had happened for a second,and suddenly he sat, up,recalling what had happened the previous night.He had survived.The previous night's letters and the bloody seal were the only reminders of what had happened."Did it really happen?", he thought, and just then he coughed out dried blood,His throat was still very sore, and it ached terribly, but he smiled nonetheless, for he knew that everything was going to br allright.The sunlight shone through the clouds in narrow beams of light,and they seemed to gently touch him.."God's fingers", he thought,"They call them God's fingers."

NOTE

2006-03-24T08:27:00.000-08:00

Hey just to inform readers, the posts that appear twice have flaws in them.I am working towards correcting that.And btw,I am NOT based in New York either .

COME ON DEATH.

2006-03-24T07:43:00.000-08:00

Come on Death,
You know I'm waiting,
Waiting for you to take me away.

Come on Death,
You know I'm hating,
Hating each and every day.

Come on Death,
You know my life is
My life is full of debts I cant pay.

Come on Death,
Swoop down and take me,
Take me away to hell today.

The Prisoner

2006-03-01T21:18:00.000-08:00

THE PRISONER
He waited, silently for his punishment to begin.The cell was dark, damp, and reeked of blood, sweat and excrement.He shifted about, uncomfortable but determined.He was filthy, having been detained and chained for weeks,wearing only a loincloth, matted with blood and grime.
Even he was prepared for it, the loud noisy creak of the rusty door opening startled him.His body cringed, but his eyes shone in anticipation.The jailer, a portly, filthy man, walked in.Even though he was free, his clothes seemed almost as grubby as the prisoners he tortured.Smiling insanely, the sadistic gaoler walked about with obvious glee, brandishing his torture device for the day, a huge, curled whip.He made a great show of displaying it to the prisoner, and carefully explained what he was going to do with it in a language the prisoner didn't understand.He then paused theatrically, for it was the anticipatory fright in his prisoners that brought him orgasmic pleasure, that made him feel satisfied.
The prisoner looked up at the jailer, and the jailer was nearly blinded for a second.The prisoner's eyes seemed to shine, they emitted a hatred and a strength so powerful that the he was momentarily shocked, taken aback,unsure in his own playground.Angered by this show f rebellion, and seething at his own response, he raised the whip and drew it back.
The Prisoner looked at the gaoler.As the whip came crashing down. it made a resounding, violent sound as it struck flesh.The sheer force of caused his mind to explode with pain, but he made no sound, and his eyes were as intense, if not brighter.The whip came down again, and the image of his wife and son waiting beck home for him.He ground his teeth, and continued staring.The gaoler drew the whip back full length, and brought it crashing down with all his force.The prisoner's nerves begged him to cry out, his body shivered with sheer pain, and droplets of blood spattered on the floor, on the jailer , and on the whip.But his mind was set.He continued, relentlessly, to stare, with unrelenting, luminous,denuding intensity at the gaoler.
The gaoler, now worried, drew more desperate.He slapped the prisoner, and strained his muscles to strike even harder.The prisoner was stunned by the sheer power of the blow, but something in him told him that the only weapon he had was defiance, insolence, and his body bled. his eyes laughed at the gaoler, a silent but deafening laugh that unnerved the gaoler.The next strike was even harder, and his pain momentarily triumphed .A tear trickled down his eye, and he groaned shrilly in the throbbing pain.
This was the moment the gaoler had been waiting for. Hugely relieved, and assured of his superiority, he stepped back, panting furiously, looking exhausted but exultant.He looked into the once luminous eyes, now shameful in defeat. He spat at the prisoner, and left.
The Prisoner was disconsolate and heartbroken, and he dissolved into tears, but no sooner had he begun weeping, that he let out an anguished yell.He had long learned to give up self pity.He grit his teeth and prepared himself to be stronger for the next time.Body bleeding and head throbbing and eyes luminescent again,he lay down, and waited.

Welcome to the Jungle

2005-11-16T20:41:00.000-08:00

The oval, heavy, constant raindrops pounded the dark street.The bright red neon sign momentarily turned them into blood as they continued,unrelenting, to hit the pavement.Smith stood at the side and watched the silent people, scurrying about,uncaring.Even to the untrained eye, he looked like an outsider; with his neatly pressed clothes and his quietous demeanour,he looked insecure;gullible even.And he was apprehensive.For this was where dreams and lives were made, where fortunes were earned,where people were moulded into movie stars ,industrialists and Rock Gods and millionaires;but this was also the place where dreams were shattered into dust, where hearts were broken and people desensitized beyond recognition.Where if you happened to be unlucky,ambition, no matter how great, would be exiled into obscurity.But still.he had the feeling that this was his kind of place.And that he actually might survive here.With a deep breath, he fortified himself,readying for the struggle to come.He stepped down and walked on.
As he moved on , a beggar on the street, sprawled out on the street, entirely oblivious to the rain, saw his figure approaching.Even through his drunken eyes, he , being a wise old hand, could perceive the newness in the unsteadybuthopeful gait of the young man. With the generosity of the truly drunk. he offered him some of the drink in his bottle."Welcome to the jungle,punk", he said

Love

2005-11-16T20:38:00.000-08:00

Love was memorable.Love was unconditional.Love was unadulterated happiness.Love was sight to the blind soul, food to the starving mind,a balm to the aching heart.Love was blind faith, Love was true belief,Love was nirvana, bliss, an incomparable high,ridiculously easy, unexpectedly satisfying. Love was pain.Love was anguish.Love was heartache.Love was unachievable,unendurable,torturous, stressful ,sad, and inexplicably addictive. Love was unfortunately not reciprocated………………

Bane-9

2005-10-07T20:46:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER 9:MATCH 22
In his four month stint in the boxing world,Bane had had become something
of a legend.The man with no friends,no support,the loner with a terrifying
punch and a leer that would terrify the most seasoned of boxers.His reputation
preceded him, and only the stupid and the brave wanted to face him one on
one in the ring.
He was in the opening match of the of the fifth contest he had entered.
His opponent was small, but had tremendous heart.Bane punished him severely,
but the kid kept coming back for more, and at several moments in the match,
Bane was surprised by his sheer resilience.By the end of the fifth round,the
kid was nearing his limit.His mother ,standing in the crowd, could not bear to
look,tears streaming down her face.Bane allowed his mind to wander for a bit
and wondered why idiots actually got their families along with them to matches
to watch them get beaten up.The kid surprised him with a sharp jab.Infuriated,
Bane struck back with tremendous force and broke the kid's nose.A young woman
in the crowd screamed and rushed over to the ring,as the kid ambled back to
his end.She tried to convince the kid to giveup,teling nim that she was still
proud of him,but he woudnt listen.From the diagonally opposite end,Bane looked
into her eyes.saw the tears mingled with hate as she screamed abuses at him,
and was shocked.His heart cried out,and he realised what he had to do.He would
go back to Esha,and beg for a second chance. He would love her again,and
would ensure that things would return to exactly as they were,if not better.
He would build up his life from scratch again.He was focussed and determined.
Thirty seconds into round 6, Bane was knocked flat out.

Bane-8

2005-10-07T20:45:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER 8:CONTEST ONE

Entering a boxing competition was not difficult.He just signed on the dotted
line,and showed up fot counting.This was amateur level,all the boxers knew
each other and were overly friendly.They all got along,and agreed to meet
up for practice together,to hold mock sparring contests against each other
before the real matches commenced.Bane stayed out.He sparred against ghosts,
against his imagination,a much more powerful opponent than any man would
ever prove to be.He punched the huge,heavy punching bag till his hands
bled.till he couldnt move anymore,and then he punched some more.However,
every puinch he threw had direction,every punch was an improvement over the
previous one.He was the heaviest boxer among the motley amateur group,
and his first opponent was a seedy looking juvenile,about 3/4ths of
his size,a thin reedy kid with an army haircut.A milisecond after the
customary handshake,Bane struck with his right into the kids cheek,
and then followed up with punches to the nose,and two huge hooks just
above the corner of the kid's eye.The kid was knocked out in 11.7 seconds.
Bane didnt have to play another match in the tournament;he won purely on
forfeits.

Bane-7

2005-10-07T20:43:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER-7:THE DISCOVERY

Quiet and reticent,he had always exhibited an impression of being the strong,
silent type.However, in reality ,Dhruv had always been scared of a confrontation.
Bane begun his day at 4 am,with ten push ups,a number whitch he gradually increased to
120 after five months.He ran rounds,ate a diet comprising almost entirely of protein,
and prepared himself for the storm he was about to endure.He honed his body till it
became a machine.His cheeks sunk in,and he developed dark circles under his eyes.
His hair grew long and stormy,and he became more prone to fights and confrontations.
One day.while returning home from college,he got into an argument with a motorist on
the road.Mistaking his silence as weakness.the yuppie biker pressed on and screamed
appropriately insulting abuses.He stopped immediately when Bane smiled,for this was no
ordinary smile.The lopsided,maniacal smeer frightened the living daylights out of him.
He took a step back,but was a little too late.Bane's right hand suddenly smashed into
his teeth,breaking some of them.Wildly strong arms lifted him up and slammed him into
his bike with brutal violence.The crowd,which during the duration of their argument had
collected around them ,quickly dispersed.In their eyes,Bane saw fear and respect.
Fresh from the discovery of his instinctive knack for violence,Bane stood back and
surveyed his work with some interest.

Bane-Part 6

2005-10-02T00:44:00.001-07:00

CHAPTER 6:REBIRTH

What do you do when you have nothing to live for anymore?
Some people spend their time in mourning,with friends and family for support.
Others drown their sorrow in a bottle of the hardest booze available.
And there are others that dont survive a strong tumult in their lives.To his credit,
Dhruv didnt fall into this category.But after the prophetic dream of hell,Dhruv died.
He didnt die physically,but slowly,as his mind healed,his soul didnt,and in essence,
his heart and soul perished.And what hellish creature did the dying soul leave behind
in its wake?Dhruv didnt know,and his rage had not yet found an outlet,until one day,
on tv,he saw a boxing match taking place.Fascinated by this display of pure passion and
unimaginable grit,he had an epiphany.At several points in your life,defining moments
come along.Moments you use to divide your life-before and after.Moments that shape you
as a person and highlight your life.This was one such moment in his life.At that instant,
he decided to take up boxing as a career,and alternate one apart from his normal
studies.And he decided to rename himself,a more suitable one to signify what he had
become.He thought hard,but not long, and came up with an appropriate one.He called himself
Bane,because he now,truly,represented the bane of society;the soulless, heartless ,and
emotionless.

Bane-Part 6

2005-10-02T00:44:00.000-07:00

Bane-Part 5

2005-10-02T00:42:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER 5-HELL

Nothing hits as hard as betrayal.Esha called up a day later to call off the
relationship.but the damage had already been done.Pain,his only friend,came
back with a vengeance,and his world was shattered.He couldnt sleep for a week,
and with each preceding day,became more cynical,erratic,and depression prone.
People tried to console him, but he shunned company,and sought solitude once
again.He was alone,and every orifice reeked of negativity.He revelled in his
loneliness.
Do you believe in hell?Dhruv didnt,not even in the afterlife;but two days after
Esha's betrayal,possessed by insomnia,Dhruv developed a terrible fever.
That night as he slept,he,like people do when they have high fever,hallucinated.
In his dreams ,Dhruv visited hell.He walked alone,in an arid desert at dusk,
his surroundings dark.He was garbed in a black cloak,freezing to the bone,but
walking on .This was hell,where emotions froze over.where he felt no remorse,
no love,no empathy,on hatred even.He was soulless and heartless.
The ground was arid and parched,eerily lit by the twilight.Huge nuclear explosions
lit up the sky and rocked the place,but he couldnt hear them because he was surrounded
by vaccum.He woke up sweating to see it was a dream.
Later on ,after recovering,he realized he liked the place.

Bane-Part 4

2005-10-02T00:39:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER 4:HEARTBREAK

They dated for six months.In that span of time,Dhruv was convinced(although he didnt
mention this to Esha) that Esha was the only girl he would ever be involved with.
He now was planning his career accordingly and figuring out how he would end up
with her ,and he began,before graduating,to search for post grad courses in
their city.He matured as a person,opening up to many people,and finally finding some friends.
He naturally attracted people when he was in a good mood,and found a new ally;popularity.
To a certain extent,he loved the attention,though constanstly maintaining the facade of being
the happy funny guy was getting to him a little bit.But the most startling change came in
his peace of mind.He felt genuinely,completely,unadulteratedly happy.
His depression was almost completely gone,and he radiated happiness.
And when /esha told him she had a friend from another state visiting,he didnt suspect
anything.Having being born and brought up in the more traditional region,and having
beind educated in the more upstate camp area,Dhruv had developed several contacts on
both sides,aquaintances who yielded gossip of all kind into Dhruv's penetrating
personality.And it was through one of them that he heard that prettyboy Karan,big
man on campus in one of Pune's more prestigious colleges,was going out with
Esha.
The next time Esha said she had to meet her out of state friend,he followed her
discretely .
through the transparent door of the coffee shop,he could see it all.The shock
of unfaithfulness hits hard.Was it Esha sitting with a dreamy expression on
her face?were her hands interlinked with Karan's?was she smiling at Karan as
happily as she once did at him?
Well,it was,they were.she was.

Bane-Part 3

2005-09-16T23:55:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER 3:SOULMATES

Do you believe in the existence of a soulmate?
A single person with ypu can connect with to an almost supernatural level?
Someone who can read your thoughts,predict with uncanny accuracy,your emotions and
feelings,someone who will stand by you,backing you even if you are right or
wrong and remain loyal to his dying breath?
I suppose Dhruv was Esha's soulmate.
He first met her through mutual aquaintances at a coffee shop,and Dhruv,
introverted,shy Dhruv,fell head in love for the first and last time in his life.
It wasnt love at first sight,but with every preceding meeting,Dhruv got further and further,till there was
no stopping him.
Esha,of the confident smile,and her easy,outgoing nature,captured his heart.
They seemed opposites at first.He,tall and underconfident,stammering and shy,couldn't
believe how every man on the face
of the Earth didnt see his vision;thay Esha was ,without a shadow of doubt,
the most beautiful girl in the world.
Dhruv,like most people who lead a troubled life or a life of
solitude, possessed,the natural gift of looking into people's hearts,and he
saw in Esha,the most pure,natural,exquisite beauty.

Esha opened up to Dhruv,and his quiet ,shy ,charm was inexplicably magnetic,
because she had always valued confidence in a man;and this one was obviously
scarred by life.stumbling and stuttering through his sentences,
She also liked men who could make her laugh, and as it often is
with men whodont lik to get into fights and confrontations,Dhruv possessed a
good sense of humor,whitch seemed to blossom whanever she was around.
They shared an amazing chemistry,obviating their close friendship.

She told Dhruv everything there was to know sbout her life,and he was
possibly the only man with whom she could be so open,and this caused Dhruv to fall
even more helplessly in love with her.

Bane-Part 2

2005-09-16T23:53:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER 2: RAGE

Religion compells us to believe in the existence of a soul;the source of
our conscience and our love,the immortal,unbreakable, unimpurifiable,and
perhaps our true reason for existence.
Sometimes, by a freak of nature,or more often a freak of humanity,
a soul can break.And a soul breaking is perhaps the most brutal punishments
any man can suffer.People with broken souls exist among us, and surely
at some point in our lives we have seen first hand ,the dull,shattered
eyes of a man of a broken soul,a man with no true reason to live.
So what shatters souls?sticks and stones may break my bones....
comes to mind ,and the old adage is almost entirely true.corporal
sufferings rarely result in a broken soul,for a soul is quite resilient
to sticks and stones.but is the soul in any way vunerable?
That varies from person to person,but let me get to the point.
The most efficient and ruthless soul-breaker is love.or rather the loss of love.
A broken soul inspires many reactions ,such as disbelief,heartache,
and inevitably,pain.
And what does pain inspire?here ,readers,the story begins, for in Bane,
it inspired rage.

Bane-Part 1

2005-09-16T23:50:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER 1:MATCH 21,ROUND 4

An unseen left hook smashed into the region just above his eyesocket,
breaking bone.Bane went down,and was momentarily blinded by the intense pain
that shot through his forehead.The audience outside the dingy
boxing ring hooted it's approval.
1...."No movement folks,Cutter just gutted him like a fish! i believe he's out
for good this time!" 2....3....."Oh yessiree,Cutter smells victory here,the crowd is going nuts"
4...5....Bane opens his eyelids......6......."For the first time in twenty fights,with 18 knockouts,
the animals finally down,It sure took a while,though,eh?" 7.....Bane remembers. 8....He springs up,
nonchalantly,with the grace of a tiger,and smiles.

There are two kinds of stares;one used by cowboys to stare down their counterparts,
thereby asserting their superiority and the other one,possesed by psychopaths and
shattered human beings,one that doesnt look AT, but right through you,
a blank stare that is impossible to reciprocate and Jonathan"Cutter"Carey at that moment,
expirienced first hand the disconcerting feeling one gets when one is
subjected to glare of such intensity.

Round 5:The fight lasted 30 more seconds.

The Lost Prophet

2005-09-11T06:01:00.000-07:00

The Lost Prophet

Once there was a lost prophet, a soothsayer of doom, a harbinger of destruction, a source of pain, a mislead soul,who didnt believe in religion, God, relationships and karma. A self pitying creature capable of wallowing for hours in his depression .A disctinctively shady character,someone who sould be charming and personable when it suited him , someone who was used to extracting details from people and using them against the very same people.He had unusual gifts; a unique brain, and a way of manipulating people that came so naturally to him that he had made it his way of life.But he was not evil,Like all criminals, life had hardened the simple boy and had converted him into what he was.He was capable of love, and his faliure to find a soulmate or a confidante had made him volatile and moody, and not as self controlled as he would have liked to be.
One day, the prophet met a woman, and he thought she would make an interesting subject, but something went terribly wrong;he talked too much, like a conscience stricken criminal at a confessional, but the woman didnt leave his side.She heard him out, and the prophet discovereda new facet to life.He partially became his old self again,but the shadow of the prophet lingered on, showing its face occasionally.He believed thay his injured soul was recovering,and she really seemed to care.Then one day, the woman found a smart,sensitive,intelligent medical student and the prophet was replaced,and so was the misery in his life.