The King’s Gambit

Sacrifice not always is selfless
A pawn suicide, few steps taken back
Destroyed an army of whites

Please bear with this post as this is my first attempt with Haiku (5-7-5). The idea came when today, my younger brother, who will be 13 this month, defeated me in chess. However, this is not something to be ashamed of as the computer too seldom wins against him. But the fact that he did that blindfolded left me dumbstruck and a little proud 😀

This was the Day 5 and the last day of the amazing Five Photos, Five stories challenge that I truly enjoyed. Once again, thank you Prajakta for nominating me!

My last nomination for this challenge would be Ayushi – who expresses with so much dexterity that you would be able to relate to her even if she’s talking about dinosaurs.

The challenge is – “Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge”

The hyena’s laughter

Years ago, I saw an interesting incident on Discovery Channel. A group of leopards, going hungry for several days finally hunted a bison and were all ready for the feast. They had hardly started when a few laughing hyenas (Kudoz to the person who coined the term ‘laughing’ for hyenas’ sounds) arrived from nowhere, scared the leopards off, took the food with them. The relatives of the so called King of the jungle, the fastest runners must have become the laughing stocks in their neighbourhood in the jungle.

The motive of the story was to know whether any of you have felt like those leopards? (Do tell me in the comments. I like comments. I laugh like hyenas when you do that) You can see how excited I become after seeing your comments here (00:30).

Coming back, I did feel like those leopards. My college ended a few days back and it was time to return to my hometown as fortunately, that is the place where I’ll be doing my first permanent job (Yayy). So in order to travel this journey of 1500 km from Kharagpur (West Bengal) to Delhi with loads and loads of luggage, I needed a train ticket which has to be booked by the most notorious website made in the world history – IRCTC. This website is like a relationship between two very possessive people. The presence of a third individual ‘crashes’ the relationship.

Since the normal tickets had already been booked till I became sure of my date of travel, I had to rely on the Tatkal (emergency) service. To give a little introduction to those who are unaware, this is a service which allows you to book the tickets 24 hours before the train departs. But this ‘allowing’ is as believable as your girlfriend’s “I am fine”. The train which I wanted has 132 tickets for Tatkal booking every day, the journey is of 18 hours, all coaches are air-conditioned and most importantly they give free food. But the most beautiful girl in the college never has just one admirer. The booking starts at 10am and I used to be ready with everything since 6am. Still, somehow I was proved to be late for two days. At 10:00 I fill my details, pay by internet banking at 10:01, the transaction becomes successful at 10:02 and I realize the 132 tickets were booked at 10:01. India would have been a superpower if the same dexterity was shown by people in every sphere. It was like you are thinking to have sex and the doctor comes shouting, “It’s a girl ! Congratulations !”

Anyways, the same thing continued for two days with being ticketless and five thousand bucks down. Fortunately I got an RAC (Reservation against cancellation) ticket in a train that takes 26 hours, in a coach without air-conditioning with a ticket that guarantees travel, but the berth has to be shared with another person, who somehow is never a cute girl 😦

But the God was with me (as the leopards thought) and just 4 hours before the departure, my ticket got upgraded to ‘confirmed’ which guaranteed me a shitty but complete berth in the shitty coach of the shitty train in a shitty weather (>40 degree Celsius).

Finally going home, happily I do my final packing and enter the train which was scheduled to depart at the comfortable hour of 4:15am and is never ever late. I go to my top berth and lie down with the fan taking all the heat from the ceiling and showering me with its love. Still, determined to sleep I close my eyes only to wake up by a ticklish feeling at my toes. Startled, I see that my topless overweight neighbour cannot be contained by his small berth and his hands are awkwardly trying to play with my toes. I fold my legs and spend the day reading a book.

As the night approached, I gladly welcome it because it was time to bid the scorching heat goodbye. Then, it was time for the hyenas to enter the scene. An elderly man came to me and said, “It is very difficult to travel without ticket”.
I : “Yes uncle, you are absolutely right” (How about, illegal ? )
He : I am glad you understand. Would you mind? (and he pointed at my berth)
I thought he needed a place to sit which I couldn’t refuse because of his age and the fact that every berth around me had two people sharing it. Yes, the lack of strictness in non-ac coaches makes the travel for those without tickets very easy.

I gave him the place to sit but the naughty fellow craved for more. When I closed my eyes he tapped on my legs and signaled me to move aside. Before I could react, he lied down with me with his feet near my  face and vice versa. It was a berth that was probably 6 feet long and ONE FEET WIDE and two people and my laptop bag were on it. Needless to say, only that much portion of my body was lying on the berth which was necessary to keep me from falling. All the rest were hanging or taking support from other hanging things. The laughter of the hyena echoed in my ears. Yes he started snoring. Loudly. Louder than I ever heard. Woke up a child. The child started crying. Loudly. Louder than I ever heard. And that is how my confirmed ticket proved to be that bison who died in vain. Finally at 6 in the morning I ran towards my home to give some solid support to my ass and rest to my eyes.

The Blindness

I stand in a valley surrounded
By hills and trees mounted
The sun shines on the opposite hemisphere
And the moon can be seen nowhere

In an ocean of dark
I see things pointed like a shark
The rustling leaves make a sound so shrill
My spine shivers with the stormy wind’s chill

The pupil is maximized but still
Unable to get the light to fill
Black shapes appear on canvas black
A cricket chirps and animates the pack

Slowly the dawn breaks and
The black canvas gets a red band
The black sharks now lush green
The misty mountains so serene

The fear of unknown scared
Of knowledge making it impaired
The cool winds kiss the ears and whisper
The blindness, not the scene, is the one to whimper

The Rage

Crushed by the world above
The choking pressure built
Slowly, steadily,
Violently

The magma within
Began to move
Controlled, Compressed
Boiling

It fumbled, then grumbled
Then rumbled to warn
Igonored, mocked
Stepped on.

Enough it cried
Born from the dazzling flames
Rose the golden smoke
Venting it out

One last try
To get the struggle acknowledged
Failed to happen
Erupted the furious heart

The words like lava
From the mouth they leaked
People like grass
Destroyed, they shrieked

Still the rage continued
For long it’d waited
Until the damage done
Too difficult to be reverted

Finally the dawn broke
The golden smoke now looked black
The beautiful fire,
Now converted to ash.

Inspired from a rough day and this awesome short-film made by some very cool people. http://www.sciencealert.com/watch-this-short-film-shows-just-how-terrifyingly-powerful-lava-is

The Beast

Mighty and ferocious
He challenged the king
The Earth shivered
Birds stopped to sing

The skies struggled
To look through trees
Who stood still
Like the snow freeze

One dash
A violent blow
From King to pawn
The throne to go

Undoubtedly he won
But glory lasts for little
Time, which brought
A beast disgusting as spittle

Freedom lost
Might in vain
A world destroyed
For some petty gain

The picture of the lion was taken many years ago at the Delhi zoo (India) and the mighty Asian elephant shown is in Coorg Elephant Camp (India) where elephants are kept for days before they are transformed from wild to trained ones.

Faith

Like rain drops brutally fall on the window pane…
Together who once were in the clouds free from pain.
Racing with peers to reach their respective grounds…
With soothing pitter-patter cheering sounds.

Seldom two of them collide…
Stop for a moment then together they glide.
Reminded of the time spent in sky…
I wonder do they ever cry.

With final days remaining of a lovely phase…
Friends eager to find their pane to race.
Get-togethers will sometimes be planned…
Will however be different from those where plans were made.

Eventually the drops do meet…
After bearing the unbearable heat.
This journey from clouds to the oceans…
Teach us to move having faith in relations.

Suffocation of the suffocation

Of it goes, to break away. . .

From everyday chores, to wander stray.

Suffocated by the trap, burning from the heat. . .

It is now free, living a treat.

The journey however, was not so sweet. . .

Air and blood, were the people to greet.

Though death it causes, they say. . .

Smoke from the pipe ascends away.

The Void

Remember that crush from school? Of course you do. The one for whom you did so many silly things and were so sure that he or she will understand and appreciate your true and selfless love. Years pass and so does the pain of those heartbreaks of true loves. Yes plural. But still, even then whenever you come across that first one, there rises a void somewhere deep down, carved so beautifully and with so much dexterity as if it is the work of the finest craftsmen.

So what is this void? And with so many rules made by the people who probably never experienced it, is this unique creation of one’s childhood justifiable? It is like that pit trap made by poachers for elephants which can be very easily hidden by hay or grass. None but the Earth realizes the depth and might of the hole. We all cover the pit, and move on in our hunt, initially waiting, but soon forgetting about it in the prolonged absence of the unfortunate elephant and in the presence of plethora of wildlife.

A lot of imaginative thoughts come and go during this period. Maybe the elephant couldn’t have come because it was in a bigger trouble than us? What if the elephant knew about its co-ordinates all along and just used you (the poacher) for free food kept on the pit? Whatever the case maybe, the trap always grows deeper and deeper. You tell the jungle that there was never any pit, and even if it was, it is as full-house as Mumbai’s footpath. Only that it isn’t. And one day we accept. It cannot be.

The humming wind blows and whispers something in the ears of that hay and suddenly the whole hole is now lying in the ground. Naked. Open for all to see. You try desperate attempts to distract the unwanted seers. All in vain. You are judged, you are hurt, but most of all, you are confused. For all those years you convinced yourself that the jungle is much more than just an elephant-trap. For all those years you convinced the jungle that you are no less than an ideal poacher who hunts, sells, repeats. Then how in the world (jungle) can this huge blackhole be present here, sucking everything that tries to cover it into nothingness, you wonder.

I like to think that like a blackhole creates havoc in its surroundings, the universe as a whole is always unaffected by it. Similarly this void, like a distant supernova, erupts violently, regularly, but still can be easily accepted but can never be seen as a reality to the naked eyes of star-gazers.

It is something that reminds you of absence, a crucial ingredient in the synthesis of content and happiness. And eventually, a new star is always born at the place where once the blackhole had been. So who knows, while we are so engrossed in witnessing the rhythmic violent explosions, a new star might be forming; or beneath the displaced soil, a young tree might be sprouting. Who knows.