Thursday, June 17, 2010
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Well I know I haven't blogged in a while. It doesn't mean I haven't been writing. My latest was the online creative writing for Saarang 2009. I didn't win, but I'm still pretty proud of my work, after all its been ages since I've done anything of the sort.
My entry for "Three Phase" - you are supposed to write a poem, a one act play, and a short story on the same topic. The topics were 1. Love By Numbers 2. A is A and 3. Epiphany. The topics are really quite amazing if you think about it; they give you a lot of scope for abstract thought. I chose the first topic, seemingly the easiest. Well here's my weeks work. They aren't my best, but on the watch and a topic constraint, here's what I did: (Comments and criticisms are more than welcome :) )
LOVE BY NUMBERS
Tell me, young one, of the land from which you come,
Where is your mother? Where is your home?
Abandoned, a poisoned derelict; your tears I see,
Mar a once wishful face, jubilant and carefree.
A heap upon my arms, you lay, turning me into a scoffer.
Are you the crème de la crème that society would proffer?
Weakened limbs and a scarred soul, distrust beckoning,
The more of your kind, the numbers I’d be reckoning.
Remember the times, when humankind was at its peak,
Its downfall, a mighty fall it was; the cause of which I seek,
A ludicrous leap of faith, an enervating provocation,
Hatred and corruption in enormous magnification.
I call out to the all the people left on this ravaged planet,
To forgo their narcissistic notions, to release their gauntlet.
Fighting has only brought tears and fears in victory,
Why testify time after time that we can’t learn from history?
I urge them to love not merely their kith and kin,
But to love by numbers, all the people and all within,
To love the differences and the reasons to be alive.
For when you close your hearts, you will not survive.
LOVE BY NUMBERS
The following piece is a controversial work. I apologize if any derogatory statements have indirectly been derived. I have nothing with or against you.
(Curtains open. Stage lights up. The stage remains dark except for spotlights on the characters in conversation.)
Narrator: It is evening at a particular beach at a particular city. The sun would still hover around for a few more hours before it departs. There is a bench facing the sea, on which a young man is sitting, thinking and wondering. Another man is walking briskly on the pavement, taking in the smell of the ocean, and enjoying the breeze. He passes by the man on the bench.
Antony: Melvin! It’s been so long since I last met you. Five years is it? How have you been?
Melvin: Antony! Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve been better.
Antony: Really? On the contrary, my life has been splendid. Come on tell me what’s been on your mind.
Melvin: The unpredictability of life. I cannot take it anymore. I never know why I’m doing the things I’m doing and if it has any consequences.
Antony: It’s that unpredictability that makes living life worthwhile.
Melvin: I guess you should take a seat. This might be a long story.
Antony: I have all the time in the world my friend.
(The stage goes dark. Spotlight falls on a young woman sitting on a stool at the left side of the stage. She is dressed in an attractive sparkling red dress. Melvin gets up and points towards her.)
Melvin: Silipina Mendoza. Exhibit A.
(Spotlight falls on another young woman sitting on a stool at the right side of the stage. Melvin points towards her.)
Melvin: Nina Bellina. Exhibit B.
Antony: (rises; confounded) Who are these two women?
Melvin: They were both my wives, once.
Melvin: (jestingly) Now they are each others.
Antony: (a slight grin on his face) Sorry, did I hear that right? Did you just say...
Melvin: (breaking off Antony) Yes. (pause) Or at least I think so. You see, I believe in the stars. I believe in the numbers to set my life in place. But it had brought me into a totally unheralded predicament.
The astrologer I’d met showed me towards the constellation Gemini. He said I’d have two people in my life. The numerologist told me a pick a card out of a set of random cards. The number behind it was 9. And even he said I’d have two people in my life.
Antony: (mockingly) Constellations? There are trillions of stars in the universe. Every point in the sky leads to star. You might as well draw Marilyn Monroe on the skies and write observations on which direction her skirt blows.
Melvin: l picked the number 9 fifteen times in a row! Fifteen!
Antony: Wow! Incredible coincidence!
Melvin: Of course. One would think that. I tried hard not to trust their words. Maybe it was my good fortune, or maybe not, buy they both turned out to be right. I did have two people in my life. And now, I have none.
(Silipina gets up and walks down the stage towards Melvin.)
Melvin: Silipina. It was love at first sight for me. I’d met her at a bar. Her face was clear as a sunny day. She had such a charismatic demeanour and a splendiferous native simplicity, that I instantly struck chords with her. The night I asked her hand, she was wearing a glistening red dress, her brown hair tied up in a resplendent coiffure. I remember her red dress very well. It sparkled in the lights; left me dumbfounded.
Antony: (interrupting jestingly) found yourself dumb did you?
Melvin: (continued as though he hadn’t heard the remark) I was quite capricious those days. The numbers led the way. And once we’d been talking for a while, I chanced upon the opportunity to ask her about her birth date.
Silipina: Isn’t it wonderful that we happened to come here today? The sky is crystal clear. (pointed at the sky) Look at the stars Melvin, aren’t they beautiful?
Melvin: They sure are. It’s impossible to count all of them, I suppose. I believe that destiny is shaped by them. I mean, look at them, wide-eyed, watching our every move.
Silipina: Melvin, they are just stars. The Universe’s endowment to brighten a dark night. Stop wondering about all the things that they could be. You lose sight of the simple essence in their presence.
Melvin: True. But all I can do when I see them is wonder. Do you believe in fate, Silipina?
Silipina: I believe in serendipity. It’s not that our future is written down, we just chance upon the future that’d keep us going. It’s really up to us to write our own future.
Melvin: When is your birth date?
Silipina: November seventeenth.
Melvin: The year?
Silipina: 1979. Why?
Melvin: (muttering to himself, adding up the numbers, 1+1+1+7+1+9+7+9 = 36 = 3 + 6 = 9!!)
Melvin: Oh sorry! Silipina, I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time now. Today, beneath the starry skies, I see your eyes, and I know that I want to look into those eyes forever. (He bends down on one knee and takes her right hand). Will you take my hand in marriage?
Silipina: (enthusiastically) Oh! You are the sweetest. Yes. YES! I will marry you.
Melvin: It was a grand wedding. We lived happily together for two years. I was still wondering if the numerologist I’d met was right; I’d have two women in my life, he’d said. She’d caught me one day asking the date of birth of another woman. Our relationship ended there.
(Silipina makes a melodramatic gesture, and flees)
Antony: You didn’t! Were you out of you damned mind Melvin? I thought you said happily married! Oh my! I’m really beginning to enjoy this story.
(Nina gets up and walks down the stages towards Melvin.)
Melvin: One fine morning, I was taking a stroll, when I saw this woman. (reciting as if he was reliving the moment) Her skirt, a vibrant mix of carmine and ochre matching the autumn around us, danced in the wind, and her shawl rolled seductively behind her, as she walked towards me. Her black hair, flowed as graciously as her walk, its soft curls whispering subtle secrets, entrancing the air around her, as it did me. Her eyes, the colour of caramel, intoxicated me and her impeccable smile left me delirious. She was carrying a little basket of fruits. She was Nina.
Nina: Excuse me sir. You look so perplexed. It is the beauty of autumn isn’t it?
Melvin: Yes, I’m sure that’s what it is. Hi! I’m Melvin Wendorg. I haven’t seen you around here. I take a stroll here every morning.
Nina: I’m Nina. Nina Bellina. It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.
Melvin: The pleasure is mine, Nina.
Nina: I come from the North Country, bad business this time of year. Would you like to buy some apples?
Melvin: Sure, (searching around his pockets for his wallet) How much are they?
Nina: A dollar fifty a piece sir.
Melvin: Pretty expensive, I must say.
Nina: Just not the season sir.
(She hands him 2 apples)
Melvin: By the bye, what’s your date of birth?
Nina: My, my. Sir, is that really a question to ask a lady? (laughs)
Melvin: I’m so sorry. I did not mean to be so direct. Pardon me madam.
Nina: (looks at Melvin for a while, clearly flummoxed) If you must know sir, eleventh of the fifth month, nineteen eighty two.
Melvin: (muttering to himself as he added up the numbers)
Nina: Sir? Sir, are you alright?
Melvin: (shouts) Nine! (Coming back to his so called senses) oh! I’m sorry. Nina, I can see you are an unmarried woman. You are almost at your prime. A pretty woman such as you shouldn’t remain unmarried for long. I ask for your hand in marriage. (He bends down on one knee and takes Nina’s hand).
Nina: (frightened) Sir, this is out of the blue! You do not even know me. And I don’t know who you are. Right now, you are really scaring the bejesus out of me. What makes you so sure about me, Mr. Impulsive?
Melvin: (laughs) It’s already been written. It’s in the numbers.
Nina: Sorry? Sir, I really need to go. (She turns around and runs).
Antony: (claps thrice mockingly) Very romantic I must say.
Melvin: Oh but she did come back. The next day she was waiting for me. She came up to me and said that she accepted my proposal. I do not know what changed her mind. But she was fickle minded, I tell you.
Antony: Fickle-minded? Her? (laughs)
Melvin: It didn’t last.
Antony: You were surprised? (laughs) Classic conflict twixt sentiments distinct, my friend.
Melvin: Well, one day, Nina and I chanced upon my ex-wife.
(Nina stands with Melvin. Silipina, in a more regular attire, walks towards them)
Silipina: Found another one did you Melvin? You seem to be quite adept at this sort of thing. What are her numbers?
Melvin: Nina, come let’s go.
Nina: Wait, who is this woman?
Silipina: Silipina Mendoza, your husband’s ex-wife. It is a pleasure to meet you Nina.
Nina: Really? Melvin’s never talked about you. I know he was divorced, yes, but he would always evade the topic every time it comes up.
Silipina: You must certainly come with me then.
Melvin: (angry) What is this? This is absolute madness. Nina and I are living a happy life now, thank you.
(Silipina wasn’t listening. She had pulled Nina along with her, and they were busily chatting. Melvin, throws his arms in the air, and walks back to the bench)
Antony: (in a teasing tone) I’m sorry Melvin. I didn’t see that coming. Even though you married this woman in a most peculiar turn of events, at least you were happy with her.
Melvin: A week later, she, Nina, comes up to me with divorce papers in her hand. She tells me directly, that she’d met someone else. I did not want to ask any questions. I gave her what she wanted. Now, here we are.
Narrator: The sun is setting. The sky is a dull orange. An old man is walking on the pavement. He holds a wooden stick on his left hand and set of cards on his right. He is a numerologist.
Numerologist: My, would any of you young men want their future to be shown to them?
Antony: No, please don’t disturb us.
(The numerologist walks away, indifferent)
Melvin: (calls out) ... wait a minute.
Numerologist: (a twinkle in his eye) Yes sir. Do you want see what the numbers hold for you?
Antony: Melvin? What are you doing? You just told me how much this had affected your life.
Melvin: Sometimes, you’ve just got to see for yourself, if what you believe in is really true.
Numerologist: He is right you know, sir?
Antony: I did not ask for your opinion. (towards Melvin) Do as you wish. I’m afraid I can’t convince a man with such strong beliefs. What next? The Earth is really flat?
Numerologist: Here in my hand are a set of cards. Each has a number behind them.
Melvin: I know how this works. (He picks up a card and places it face down on the bench)
Numerologist: I see you are a man of faith. Turn the card over and show me, and I will show you your destiny.
(The stage goes dark. A spotlight falls on Melvin .)
Antony: Let me ask you, would you trust the numbers more than the people around you?
Narrator: Melvin closes his eyes and thinks hard. He slowly turns the card over and looks at it. The card is blank.
(Melvin looks up. The stage lights up. Antony and the numerologist are nowhere to be seen.)
Melvin: Guess I’ll be writing my own destiny this time.
LOVE BY NUMBERS
The Short Story
Music, to me, is the language of the emotions. It is the lingua franca of passion and desire, of happiness and sorrow, of hatred and fear, and of love and hope. Twelve magical notes convolved in a myriad of mesmerizing sequences beguiling the hearts of millions who lend their ears. The beats, the octaves, and the diverse instruments orchestrate a feeling of what life is meant to be.
I was fortunate to find a person who shared the same passion as me. Her name was Talitha. The only thing she couldn’t do was ‘see’.
One fine evening, after my usual practice routine, I was making my way out from the band room on the terrace. The sky was a naive blue without a cloud in sight and a slight breeze kept the atmosphere lucid. I heard a faint voice, singing. Impressed, I moved towards it. That was when I first saw her. Her back was turned towards me. The dark blue shawl of her salwaar contrasted the sky, as it danced in the breeze, along with her satiny black hair. She was singing to the wind.
I quickly ran back to the band room and brought out my acoustic guitar. Catching her melody, I strummed the chords behind her. She was startled at first, but continued singing without turning around. Probably she wanted to amuse me and my pertinacity.
“Who is this?” she asked after she finished her song.
I kept strumming a vague tune. I wanted her to turn towards me, but she didn’t.
“You play beautifully”, she said.
“You sing beautifully”, I replied.
“Why, thank you!” she turned around and smiled. The first time I saw her smile; it took my breath away. She was wearing round black sunglasses, and I felt that behind those were the most amazing eyes a person could be endowed with.
I remember that day very well. She sang and I played through the evening, till the sky turned pink and orange. I never knew at that point of time that she couldn’t revel in the colours of nature as I did.
Over the next few days, we met everyday on the terrace. We sang, we danced and talked through the night. Talitha had lost her eyesight at the age of three in a gas explosion. She was a smart girl, however, and she learnt quickly how to live with and overcome her disability. All she remembered from the world of sight were hazy memories of her parent’s faces. She got along with life just fine. Her prime quality was that she refused to give up, and one day wished to make it big and maybe even secure the means the regain her eyesight.
As time went by, we grew closer. We shared our memories, our happiness, and our sorrow. I followed her home every night just to make sure she got there safe because she wouldn’t let me come along with her. Best of all, we made music together, and that was what kept us eternally bound.
I taught her how to play the guitar. Her lissom fingers found it hard to press the strings initially, but like I said, she learnt quickly. She wasn’t able to grasp the notes of the music readily, so I taught her the numbers and the tabs.
“This is such an amazing instrument!”
“It really is. Every time I play it, I feel as if I’ve lost a part of me in it.”
Soon we were writing our own tunes and she came up with the most beautiful lyrics. I was in love, and so was she and every thing was perfect.
Everything was perfect till I received the letter from the Army. I was to be drafted. I did not have a choice and I had to leave for at least two years. I told her that I would be safe and I would come home soon, but she knew as well as I did that the truth to that statement was as much as a tear drop in a flood of grief. I kissed her for the first time, and I left.
For three years, I didn’t hear from Rohit. My life became weary and hebetudinous. All I had was hope, that some day he would walk in, and I could hear his voice again, and feel his breath, and that our music would live on. Hope is a lie.
On one particular day, the atmosphere felt more oppressive than usual. I heard a set of three coarse knocks on the door. Apprehensive, I slowly walked towards the door, and called out.
“Who is this? What do you want?”
A deep, rough voice replied “Ms. Talitha. Ma’m I’m from the Army,” he paused, “I’m afraid I have some bad news. Rohit...”
He didn’t have to say anymore. My world was already spinning. After all these years, I feared this moment would come, I refused to believe it. Rohit, who taught me how to see a life beyond myself, who taught me the meaning of love, the only person I’d ever wanted to see...
“He has left a package for you,” the man outside continued, “he wished that it would reach you under any circumstance.”
I braved my tears and opened the door. I stumbled as I picked up the package from the man. It was a bit heavy.
“I’m deeply sorry for your loss. He was a good man and a courageous man. He loved you very much.”
I didn’t say anything. I was transfixed. And after a while, I heard his footsteps die as he walked away. Hasn’t he seen a blind woman’s tears? I went back inside, and ripped open the package hastily. A set of light plates fell onto the floor. I fumbled as I picked them up and I felt my fingers all over them. The all too familiar dots; It was Braille. They were numbers written in sequences of six arranged linearly.
I was confused. “Is this a game? He sends me a bunch of numbers? A code?” I did not understand the cause for my anger; maybe it was out of fear of acceptance.
Right then, I remembered all the times we’d spent together. I remembered the music. I pulled out his guitar and I pressed my fingers on the strings. I felt a slight pain. I must’ve pressed too hard; I didn’t care. I felt the numbers on the plate again, located them on the fret board, and I played and I played the last song he wrote for me.
Posted by Barath at 9:17 AM
Saturday, November 15, 2008
I havn't blogged much this year ! College is just too much work... but now I'm back,
and this is the post that you've all been waiting for.
The sequel to Copperman!
Check that out before you read ahead :) just in case you've lost track of the story
I've introduced a new character in this sequel, The Protector (made of wood and cloth)
The newer props include a thick necklace and toothpicks..
COPPERMAN VS THE PROTECTOR
Copperman flew through the galaxy searching for ultimate power. When he did find it, however, it overpowered him, and he became a slave to the power. The reaction turned him evil, an unstoppable evil.
He found a silver stone on a deserted planet. It showed him that there was only one other person almost as powerful as him. If he beat him, he would rule the universe.
The Protector, the all powerful lord of the Universe was meditating peacefully.
He sensed a disturbance in the Universe, an evil disturbance.
He threw the stones of fate and tried to pinpoint the location of the menace.
He saw through the light in his mind....
Something was very wrong with the time waves... but what was it... He was missing something...
Little did he know, the evil Copperman had warped the space time and found his location. Copperman thought if he took him out by suprise, there would be no fight... and he approached The Protector from behind...
And threw his metal hands over his neck and strangled him...
His new found power was amazing... He defeated The Protector in mere seconds and reveled in his victory... but the fight was not over...
The Protector was stupefied... how could he not have sensed him !
The Protector was angry...
The stage for the battle of the Universe was set...
Copperman smiled, as he had weakened the Protector... It would be all too easy...
The Protector sprang at Copperman and unleashed his fury...
Both opponents seemed to be equal in strength...
The Protector could not lose to this evil... the whole Universe was dependent on him.
He decided to use his special powers and fired a FusionRope at Copperman.
Copperman never had seen this power before, he was flabbergasted...
and was overwhelmed quickly..
Copperman found his powers being drained... It can't be..." I was the most powerful "!
The Protector used the Destiny Spears to end the battle.
He pulled in all the Spears in the Universe together and shot at Copperman.... the final blow
Copperman never saw it coming....
and he was sparred down...
The end was near...
The Destiny Spears sucked out the rest of the evil power residing in Copperman...
"Destiny is strange", thought Copperman as the spears started to suck out his life... "I was so close"...
The reaction was so powerful that Copperman was destroyed......
The Protector had accomplished his duty
and the Universe was safe once again :)
Well I hope you liked that one !! Do leave your comments, its been long since i've heard from my readers!
I'll try to update more this coming year !
Till l8r !
Posted by Barath at 3:00 AM
Saturday, May 31, 2008
The sky, intoxicating as the blue-eyed gypsy
Dancing, bewitched, in a psychedelic trance,
Is just as seductive, as alluring, as tipsy,
As her, when summer wields its lance.
The cherry flavoured Popsicle melts, delights,
A mouth eager to scream into the distance,
The joy that summer showers, the love it gifts,
To resuscitate the rapturous rhapsody of existence.
Within moments, the tunes change; a storm is brewing
The little girl drops her stick, and runs for cover,
Her soft curls whispering subtle secrets, enticing
the now, leaden sky, seemingly lacklustre,
From beneath the verdant foliage, she looks upon
As the sky shrieks and bellows, whistles and thunders.
Then it falls, the rain; hugging the tree, she looks on.
A chef-d’oeuvre of electric fury crossing the heavens
Drop by drop, the drizzle, and the downpours,
Creating frenzied fractals in turbulent pools,
A ghostly dance, the rain sways and shivers,
for a dreamy nocturne beguiling the merry moods,
The little girl, in awe, with the salacious sanguinity
of summer, takes a step into the watery whirlwinds,
She spreads her wings, embracing her destiny,
And flies through, disappearing into the enchanted showers.
Posted by Barath at 8:22 AM
Friday, December 7, 2007
With nothing but my gritty heart?
I do not remember to what price I sold,
My dignity, my verve, my love, hence lost.
As I trod on, inexorably, intrepid to find,
A future, that seems bleak, stark,
I rediscover that buried deep in my mind,
These hopes, dreams - remnant muck.
I venture into stories untold,
I stumble upon souls battered,
I fumble for schlocky gold,
I chance upon diamonds shattered.
I have grown to ignore them,
Grown to accept things the way they are,
As they always will be. A gem,
They say, is not to be found here.
But, for that one priceless piece of wonder,
That one entrancing creation,
A demigod to whom I can surrender,
All what's left of my passion, emotion.
I'll search for eternity ...
- brath 6/12/07
Posted by Barath at 9:20 PM
Sunday, August 12, 2007
u mitve all been wonderin why i havent posted lately
well news: im in college, psg tech, coimbatore
havin quite a rough time settling down... as u can see by this haphazard post.. i aint even supposed to be doin this
well classes are good and borin... and hostel life is definitly sumthin u shld try to experience...
boot camp.. remember those..!? ahh jus the same... lol.. yea well... new ways of livin and adjustin.. teaches us new things about our own selves.. nd we can do things we wuldve never even dreamed of doing otherwise... everything has its own pros and cons.. more cons here than pros... but still.. this is my apparent home for the next 4 years.. :)
hmm... now im kinda gettin late for my nxt class...
so ill try to post more updates on my seemingly uninteresting life.. as time permits..
till then chao !
Posted by Barath at 8:41 PM
Friday, June 29, 2007
Icara saw herself on the polished walls of the ship. She was tall with a tanned complexion. She had deep brown hair today, with streaks of blonde and fluorescent highlights, here and there. She had tied it up in such a way it looked like she had a basket of flowers on her head. The blue jumpsuit she was wearing had been modified with extra lapels and more frizz, with some torn ends and cuts which matched the upcoming fashion.
Her face was indeed unique one, compared to rest of the members of the colony. Perfectly arched eyebrows, with striking eyes, a softly pointed nose, with broad lips, a deep fuchsia, formed her young face. The most arresting part of her visage was her eyes, a distinctive color of caramel, which had melted the hearts of many young men she studied with. They seemed to twinkle now, under the changing neons. She removed a speck on her cheeks with her fingers and smiled at herself.
A saddening thought passed through her mind. She was the last of her race, of a pure line of beings from the planet Earth. She was seventeen and was born on a private tropical isle on this planet. Before she was five, an apocalyptic war broke out, a cataclysm, which ended her up here, in this space colony. It was no ordinary war fought with guns and rockets, nor with fusion bombs and bioagents.
The League of Nations found out that the Orientals had been rising in power, swiftly and stealthily, behind their backs. They had stolen the resources after the Great Floods and obtained monopoly over the rest of the nations. The Supreme Chancellor decided to end their domination, and gave word to unleash the galaxy’s most powerful weapon, which led to the ultimate demise of life on that lonely planet.
The weapon’s existence was a mystery till it broke out of the ground. Something went wrong during its execution and a million geysers from the deep abysses of the planet, spewed out a dense deadly metallic gas around the world. These geysers reached phenomenal heights, and some fumes were even released into space. Everything and everything was vaporized in an instant. There were no broken buildings, no fired forests, no blackened oceans; indeed there was no evidence of anything that existed and ruled over the planet for countless eons. Simply said, there was nothing.
Icara had been on the planets satellite, the Moon, on a vacation with her family, when she witnessed the world’s end. As she saw, the planet looked peaceful, with lush greens and browns, and enchanting bright blues. Then, there was a golden glow, which appeared as cracks swiftly covering the globe, as if the Earth was about to hatch. In a few seconds, when the gases spilled out, the entire globe turned black, and almost seemed to vanish in the darkness of space. Only flashes of white kept shooting out. There were exactly 100 human beings on the Moon that day, and all of them stared into space, and watched the Earth disappear in front of their eyes.
Icara remembers that day clear as crystal. She witnessed her mother faint, and fall onto the dust dead. Her father hadn’t done anything; he just knelt down and wept to himself. She was only five, and had found the incidence absolutely exciting. She ran towards the horizon, trying to catch that bygone planet. She jumped up as high as she could; but she could never reach it.
That past, she couldn’t dwell on it any longer. Whenever she thought about it, she broke down in tears, as if she felt that she had played some vital part in its cause. Not today. She couldn’t risk getting her makeup undone, not on this special occasion. It was the last dance of the school year, and her date was waiting on the other side of the corridor.
“Icara, you look divinely gorgeous today”
“Aren’t I always, Cyan? However, I think the meaning of that word, divine, has been lost for ages.”
“Divine…yes, quite unfortunate, for I don’t think there is any other better word to describe you.”
She smiled, “That’s sweet of you Cyan. Thank you.” She kissed him on his cheek. “Well I guess we better hurry up, I think the dance must have started by now. I don’t want to miss my dad’s speech either. Come on.”
They entered the Observatory Dome. It was at the most extreme part of the spaceship, consisting of a huge 5 storey fiber dome, which was clear to the outside vacuum. It offered a breathtaking view of the starry space, every line of sight leading to a star. More than half the inhabitants had a lucky star of their own, which they came to see everyday. The largest reflecting telescope in the galaxy was centered beneath the dome, boasting a whopping 25 meter diameter. The rest of the enormous place was used to host the various functions of the community.
“It’s brilliantly decorated! Magnificent!” exclaimed Icara. Indeed, being the last dance for the senior students, every detail was carefully attended to. The theme this season was Earth’s Elegance. There were wall posters of some of the greatest accomplishments of human existence. There were pictures of tetrahedral structures made of stone, a brilliant marble construction, iron structures, statues and memorials.
The replica of the Oriental Orgy Complex was impressive and was made more dramatic with the lighting. The Complex was the largest enclosed single city, a place called Dcomsistai. The Great Floods were devastating floods caused by melting of the ice sheets from the opposite sides of the planet. The people indeed believed that they caused it, but it’s now been proven that it was a natural climatic phenomenon of Earth. To protect the Oriental’s capital, they decided to harbor the city in its own casket, and subsequently built this Complex. It was made entirely of a diamond modification, all harvested from the Sun’s interior. The Sun, thought to be a gaseous hot ball of gases did in fact have a solid core, a core of diamond. Initially, a special probe made of exofrincium, which managed to bear the heat of the Sun, formed a gaseous tunnel through which the diamonds were extracted. The city literally did sparkle.
There was a virtual model of the Earth at the far end of the hall. It was a multicolor laser hologram, which enabled the viewers to see any place on the planet, before its destruction, with considerable resolution.
“Cyan! Cyan!” Icara tugged on his shoulder, “Let’s go see that,” she pointed enthusiastically. “I’ll show you the private isle where I was brought up.”
“Yea, I’d love to see it.”
She went up to the console, and pressed a few buttons. The hologram surrounded her, and teleported her to her birthplace. The sands were as white as ivory and the sea, an entrancing beguilingly blue shade. A small exotic hut was perched on the shoreline, with a metallic bridge, leading towards the forests. She tried to feel the sand, but her hand just passed through the hologram. She knelt down and closed her eyes.
“Hey, come on! Let’s do something else,” Cyan put his arm around her shoulder for support. “Where we’re going for the initiation, I’m sure it’d be something like this, and you can play in all the soft sands.”
“It’s wouldn’t be the same,” Icara replied, “It will never be the same.”
Marcus Kingsley, walked up the stairs to the stage. He was acknowledged by a thunderous applause from the crowd below. A position he had achieved for himself was no doubt a scintillating affair. People believed every word he said, as he held the highest authority in the Galaxy. In an immaculate black suit, he had a handsome and noble appearance as any formidable politician. He was made larger–than–life by a giant screen behind him, which focused on his seemingly veracious visage.
“Welcome, welcome, my friends, my fellow inspirers, my future trailblazers. I invite you to this grand ceremony of induction of our first batch of prodigious young aspirants. I feel it was just yesterday, that these students joined the training school, and now they are to be inducted as an integral member of our galaxy. This day is even more special to me, as my daughter, Icara, is part of this batch.”
He smiled at her, where she sat in the front row with Cyan. She grinned back. “It has been very difficult for these students. A hardening effect nevertheless needs to be instilled in our young men and women, if they are to take over the galaxy in the coming years. They have flown the fighter pods, have had physical defense training, and have played innumerable games of Shock-tag. I am to understand, that they know the rules of the society and that of the galaxy. They should be knowing at least eighteen of the conversing languages, the proper use of their special powers and of course, the dangers of faith. Tomorrow, each one of you is to be sent to your allotted planets for your Initiation…...”
Icara fell onto her bed. She loved the texture of the covers, cool and almost soothing in fact. It was 0:05 by her watch, and she had a big day tomorrow. This place had been her home for more than a decade. Her new destination seemed scary, but she knew she’d have her friends with her. Anxiousness made her weep, but at times like these, she did what she loved; she sang. Slowly the sleep overtook her and she smiled; somewhere in the back of her head she remembered "...smiling in sleep relaxes the mind, calms emotions and induces restful sleep."
Posted by Barath at 7:05 AM