The Cost of Vengeance

Sadness and Rage are useful things,
If you know how to transform them both
Energy is at the root of it all
And all Knowledge is Power is growth

If there is but one thing that I have learned from you,
It is that vengeance is but natural
And he who strikes, must also pay the price
All what matters is the real and actual

Well, then I hope in that moment
Before I return your dagger from my back
You give me my due credit
For acing at least your tests in diplomacy and tact.

Yes, I know I broke some precious rules,
And I understand retribution had to follow
But what you don’t know, my dear friend of old
Is that Vengeance has always been my motto

You never knew the me before this me,
Never saw past gray rags and this cloak of red
You don’t understand, dear sandbox prince
The Vengeance against my own name that I have led.

There is no forgiveness for betrayal, nor has ever been
And you can see the punishment I chose for myself
Run, little lost prince, run away somewhere far from here
When pathos turns to wrath, to pay, there will be Hell.

An Ancient Story

(Part – I)

In ancient tales

from long ago

Before the Dragons

and the endless cold

There was a flame

born in the midst of a storm

with rage serving as purpose

and chaos, the norm

She lived by the ocean

worshiping the sea

Always burning

in an unsatiable need

And each time she rode out

for hunt or for play

Her need made her stumble

in a cold too gray

And her sister of the winds

came to her in a dream

to tell her of a distant land

of freedom, strawberries and cream.

So she packed up her bags,

stood up and began to try

to reach that land so far away

Until she learnt to fly.

And then when she dreamt of a stone

at the center of the World

glowing oh-so endlessly

waiting for some angry girl

So she pulled on her gauntlets

and led out her steed

said her quick goodbyes

and ran off  to see

just what it was

that made this stone bleed

a fire so hot

even she could feel the heat.

The DMRC needs to STOP its illegal witch-hunt of teens and pre-teens and instead identify the perpetrators who have ILLEGALLY shared the information of individuals on pornographic websites

So, I’m not sure if you guys have heard about this, but footage from the Metro stations of the Indian capital, Delhi, has found its way on to porn websites. Mind you, I’m talking about teenagers, and pre-teens, filmed fooling around on empty platforms because our society is too fucked up to allow them to actually visit each others’ homes in order to even touch other, forget about intimacy!

Are you all mind-fucked yet, friends, Indian and countrymen? Well, it gets better. Now, instead of identifying the criminals who have committed the illegal act of uploading these videos, the DMRC actually has the audacity to try and identify the youngsters so that it can file FIRs against them!

What the actual FUCK? Those couples should be suing DMRC! What kind of a messed up society do we live in? Everybody’s a wannabe self-righteous jackass. Gyah! I can’t take it anymore! Flamethrowers are the only solution!!!

Though, in all seriousness, I repeat: Those couples should be suing DMRC! No self-respecting judge will allow this voyeuristic bullcrap to pass off as implementing decency. It’s only indecent because people were watching, the said people being perverted DMRC officials. Seriously, if someone wants to file a case against the DMRC, please, tell me, and I’ll get you in touch with a lawyer who can kick their privacy-violating ass all the way to hell.

The Rapist Scum of U.P., India

Find someone attractive? Just follow her home with your “friends”, barge in when she’s alone and rape her to your heart’s content. Doth the lady protest too much because you’re a ugly fucking asshole? Set her on fire and let her die.

Or are you more of an outdoors-man – oops – rapist? [You don’t get to call yourself men if you are no better than filthy, diseased cancerous cells plaguing the rest of our society.] Well, if the great weather and better escaping opportunities are your thing, then find a National-level athlete and “tease” her. If she protests? Why, run her over with your car, of course!

Or do you think all of this is too risky? Would you prefer assaulting someone who can’t fight back at all? What is all this protesting and fire and running people over? Well, in that case, be a sick, pathetic, vile little less-than-human pig, and rape an infant, the younger the better. Oh, the number of years your soul shall wander Hell. *laughs* Three thousand sons wouldn’t get you salvation, Asshole. What kind of God do you think would forgive such a thing? Just because you’re a messed up @#@&#@^ coward, doesn’t mean your God is a dirty pig too. Ha! In fact, I keep my faith in the fires of hell that are burning for you.

Moksha, it seems. Your skin should be slowly peeled off with hot iron knives, before your flayed body is dipped in tar and venom. May your screams resound endlessly, rapist-murderers. And may your death make you cry a million times before claiming you.

God, how I hate those who prey on children.

You disgust me.

I loathe you.

I Can’t Take it Anymore [said the Pied Piper]

The Murdering
The Raping
The Torturing
The Terror
The Violence
The inability to stop involving the children!

There’s this theory scientists are looking into that suggests that our Universe might just be a giant computer program. There’s another theory that says that human beings existed longgg ago, even indulging in Nuclear warfare. All over the world, unexplained, mysterious ancient artifacts have been discovered that at least point towards the fact that we don’t know everything about the past. To me, these two theories could co-exist, as could they with the theory bout aliens watching over our planet. The reason I bring this up is because I like to believe that some of our older tales and information have trickled down from these futuristic ancestors of ours.

For instance, take the story of the Pied Piper of Hamlin. Long story short, there’s a village of lazy, greedy people that get affected by a plague. Being lazy, they do nothing about the situation until it gets utterly out of hand. At which point in the story, the Pied Piper makes his entrance. He plays music for the people, but finds them super-stingy. It’s only the children that stop to listen to him. And, then too, they’re most often dragged away by their parents. Then, noticing a couple of reward-on-getting-rid-of-rats signs, the piper goes to the palace/mayor and claims that he can rid the city of the rats in 2 days (or something). The people smirk at him, and agree.

That night, the Piper gets up, and starts playing a soft tune. He plays in his room for a bit, and then steps out, his lips never leaving the pipe. As he walks through the village, slowly, rats start filing out of hidden nooks and crevices, falling into line behind him. The piper plays and plays, and the rats continue to pour out, as if in a stream, and slowly, yet surely, the piper begins to lead his absurd following towards the river. As he stands by and plays, one after the other, the rats leap off the stone bridge to their doom, and the few villagers awake to witness this, shudder and bar their doors.

The next morning, the piper goes up to the council/mayor and asks for his reward. “What reward?”, says the mayor, feigning ignorance.

The piper’s eyes grow cold. “The rats are gone.”

“Yes, and?”, asked the mayor, even as the greedy, stingy people looked on. “What had you to do with it?”

“I got rid of them, like I said I would.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” said the mayor.

“Are you sure?” asked the piper softly, head bent low so that his cap prevented anyone from looking into his eyes. “You’ll regret this.”

“Are you threatening me?!”, asked the mayor. “Guards!”

The pied piper raised in hands in a non-threatening gesture, and slowly backed out of the packed hall, which let out a collective sigh of relief. Something about that man was very unnerving.

That night, when the inhabitants of the town are fast asleep, a beautiful tune starts to sound in the night air, soft enough to not wake a soul. Except, one by one, in every house, the children start to wake up. Quietly, they drop out of their beds. Stealthily, they sneak out of their homes. One by one, every child turns around and bolts the door shut. The pied piper continues his song, and the children fall in line behind him.

By now, parents have begun to notice their children missing. At first, they worry. Upon finding themselves locked in their little houses, they begin to panic. The fear spreads through the town like wildfire. “Look! There they are!”, screams a little boy’s mother, pressed against her window and pointing out into the distance.

Faint strains of the piper’s song can still be heard by villagers.

“He’s going to drown them!”, sobs another mother, even as her husband falls into a faint.

But the piper turns away from the river where the rats had leapt to their end, and starts moving towards the nearby mountains.

By now, some of the parents have managed to free themselves. Soon, most of the town is free, and they rush up and down, collecting torches and horses to ride out after their children before the night swallowed them whole.

Meanwhile, the children hadn’t looked back once, their eyes focused on their leader with the strange hat and the musical pipe. If any of them had bothered to turn around, they would have been surprised to see how far they had come, certainly further than most of them ever previously had.

Except for one boy. The town’s only cripple, the lame child had fallen behind as the trail of children followed the pied piper up the winding mountain path.

Soon, he was the only one the search party that was sent out to find the kids could see.

The pied piper, along with all the children of the village – they just vanished into thin air. When the distraught parents finally reached the crippled boy,  they found him standing and staring at the side of a mountain, tears streaming down his face. “They didn’t wait for me.”, he finally said, sounding as if his world had shattered.

The parents of the village were inconsolable, and wished that they had done right by the pied piper, but they never saw him, nor any of heir children, ever again.

~~~ The End ~~~

Okay, so that was pretty much long story long, but, well, I like telling stories. And, since it has been forever since I last read the Pied Piper of Hamlin, it’s more like a cover than the real story. I’m sure I got a hundred things wrong. Just think of it as the modern retelling. :\

Anyhow, the reason I brought up the tale of the Pied Piper, as well as the theories about computers/aliens, is: What if this story isn’t just a metaphorical reference to the fact that children will leave you if you stifle their fresher spirits with your jaded talk of wealth while they still believe in dreams?

I personally think it’s an allegorical reference to Moses and his leading of the people into the desert in the quest for the promised land. Or the advent of Christianity after the Jewish community unfairly treated Christ, who dealt with it so well, that nearly all of their children “left” to “follow” him.

Either way, I think if Aliens are involved (or a supercomputer program, or God-like futuristic ancestors), the implications of this story would be a lot more straightforward.. and a lot more sinister.

Treat your children right, or we will take them from you.

If humanity doesn’t change its ways, the planet will either find a way to destroy us, or we, the planet. The virus will most likely affect our ability to reproduce, counting on the barbaric nature of man to ensure it’s spread across the globe.

And we will die.

Sometimes I think that is the only way to stop the screaming in my ears.

How can you stand it?

Sometimes I think that to die would be more of a relief than an adventure..
Especially when I think of the children.
Our descendants should be ashamed of us…
and if they are not, then we should be ashamed of them.

Dear Mankind (Draft 1)

You talk of shackles and bars
but, what do you really know of chains?
You talk of thunder and lightning,
but, tell me, what do you know of rains?
Of summer and winter, but have you
ever been scorched so much
to know that both fire and frost
kiss with the same cold touch?

You talk of love and romance,
but you don’t have a clue
of the feeling it always ends in
that deep burning blue
You talk of honor and shame
and things that wouldn’t mean a thing
if there was no guilt and blame,
if there was no joy in sin.

You think growing older must be the same as growing colder
You think you’ve moved on, but you’ve got chips on your shoulder
You might have a halo, but that’s only coz you’re a devil in disguise
Hungry, and wrathful, and nursing his pride.

And the wrong things make you happy,
while the right things make you sad
and you only like women
because they can be so bad
even whey seem so good
like the little mermaid, so bold
and little red riding hood
and other girls who don’t do as they’re told.

Oh, the World has it backwards
women aren’t looking to tame men
It’s men who have always been fighting the wild
And the forests are dying
Babies, orphaned and crying
But the wild’s truly alive in the woman, and child.

To all my fallen brethren,
(hush now, my darlings, gender’s just a word
and we must choose our battles
to justify this bloody sword,
but the truth shall remain ours
we fight in your name
vengeance surely isn’t
only a man’s domain)
may you not have died in vain
May your spirits find rest
even as they drive us past disdain
May you forgive our celebrations,
and bless our joy
And may we never forget
what must be destroyed.

You’re only so cruel because you’re afraid
afraid of the mirror that spilled blood has remade
Afraid of your reflection, which shall show you the monster you are
a wretched limp coward by yourself, pretending to be so hard
Well, go ahead with your friends, and bury your sins,
burn them all alive if you dare
But, we’ll keep counting, until it’s one too many
and, you know, we’ll always be there.

You talk of shackles and bars,
but what do you know of cages?
Pretty, and old, and broken, and gold
and in all shapes and sizes through the ages..
We know the insides of them all
though you may be more familiar with the keys
Tell me, what is the rain worth to you?
What of the cool autumn breeze?
We need to be free now,
not protected, just equally free
You talk of philosophy and science,
but tell me, what do you know of me?

Two Cats in the Moonlight

Once upon a time, on a moonlit night, two cats got into a fight, over humanity’s fate, and the feline race, and whether choosing sides was right. The female cat scratched the male cat’s face, and bleeding pride, he left the alley for life.

Years later, with a scratch upon his face, the same Tomcat was strutting down a street, when he ran into a collared scrawny she-cat who lay dying, barely able to meow, or speak.

“Holy Fuck, it’s you”, he exclaimed, surprised beyond belief. But, the she-cat, she just looked upon him with dimming eyes and breathed, “Be careful, they don’t like cats anymore”, her voice all shaken with grief.

And, the Tomcat, he pawed at her face, but the warning had cost her her life. And in the same moonlight, he howled like a wolf in the night, and ran back home to his plump human wife.