Allahu Akbar...Allahu Akbar

The shaking earth sends people running for the hills. Cries of "tsunami" ring in the air- as much as in the minds of people. The smell of fear hangs clear. Will it happen again?

There are those who head for the hills. Then again, there are those who don't. They all tremble. Shivering in cold fear of murky waters.

Fear the angry earth. Fear the roiling seas. The turmoil it threatens to unleash. Can you perceive it?

When it strikes, That's when they remember Him. When the earth rumbles. That's when they call out His name. Is it the fear that invokes their thoughts of Him?

Allahu akbar. Allahu Akbar indeed.

Is this what it takes to bring them closer to God? Is this what it takes to bring us closer to God? Then perhaps it is a blessing.

Will we wake up after being slapped in the face? Will we snap out of our daydreams after being drenched?

Yet, we've been spared. Or have we? To survive a disaster and to remember it well. Though we may have been spared the full force of both the tsunami and the quake, we are the witnesses of mother nature's wrath incarnate.

So what will you do? What will you do when the watery silence comes for you?

Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar

An Angel Among Us

When asked of what a knight is, what would your answer be? How would you describe a worthy knight?

The knight, is not simply a man who fights. He is not merely a combat brute. Neither is he simply a warrior of the church or an officer of one organisation or another. No. These are not the essence of the knight that makes him a great man. A true knight, is a virtuous hero who embodies perfection. His combat prowess, compassion and noble stature elevates him from being simply a soldier, to being a holy warrior.That is what sets him apart from a normal warrior.

Courage . Mercy . Honor . Hope . Justice

Nobility . Generosity . Courtesy . Loyalty . Strength

Humility . Kindness . Wisdom . Love . Faith

These are all but some of the virtues that the knight may choose to uphold. He, is an avatar amongst men. Meant to be looked upon with great honor and respect.

An honor-bound warrior and a holder of ideals. He lives for his ideals, be these for the good of self, country or mankind.

The knight is a man willing to endanger self and die for the sake of his ideals. He will fight till the end to uphold his virtues. Defend the week. Uphold justice. Aid those in need. Submissive to his lord. He is an angel amongst men.

Is there such a man amongst us now?

The Druid - #1

The sounds of the wild assailed the sharp pointed ears of the young elf as he stood at the center of the clearing. He held a long gnarled wooden club slung across his back. His dark green tunic clung tight to his pale porcelain skin, his pale green cloak ruffled in the calm cool breeze. His hood hung over his head, covering his handsome features in shadows.

A ruffle in the bushes a dozen feet behind him caught the elf's attention. He turned around in time to see a large wolf walk out into the clearing. He tapped the staff on the grassy floor thrice, calling his faithful companion to his side. "A beautiful day it is my friend." The elf reached down and patted the soft gray fur of the wolf fondly as his eyes looked up to the clear blue sky above him. The sun shone bright and proud up in the sky, letting down rays of warmth and bringing light upon the world.

The wolf brought his muzzle up and sniffed the air. A low growl escaped its throat. "Intruders." Came the understanding exclamation of the elf. The two melted into the trees and ran through the forest, silent as shadows of the boughs above them.

The barking of dogs grew louder as the elf silently shuffled through the trees and approached the men who had intruded into his woodland grove. He drew ever closer, and the barking of the dogs grew louder with every step that he took. The dogs had caught his scent. The elf climbed up a tree, his arms and feet working with unison and skill honed by years of practice. a quarter of the way up the huge birch tree, the elf stopped his ascend upwards and started to swing from tree to tree. His arms and feet pumped with energy as he swung through the trees apelike and silent as the resident monkeys of the woodlands. He stopped right above the invading men, who unknowingly continued to swathe a way through his woods, cutting at small bushes and stomping on the grasses without a care for the woodland lives.

The handsome elven studied the men closely. Longswords hung on belts and sturdy leather jerkins protected the men from the assailing branches that hung low in the forests. Seven men, guards from the city patrol, he judged by the emblems that was clearly marked upon the shields of the men. "What are they doing here? They should know better than to invade the Woods of Vilsrough without my permission." He snarled to himself, a low mumble that was barely audible over the noise that the procession was making. He reached to his back, and pulled out a small object from his back pocket. A symbol of a unicorn head with engravings along the edge of the circular pendant.

He held the pendant close to his heart and closed his eyes in concentration. The elf’s voice filled the air, his chanting interrupting the men from their destructive advance into the heart of the forest. His voice chimed melodiously, his melody ringing in the air, more beautiful than the lovely forests and warmer than the glow of the sun. He continued the song, calling upon the power of the very woods he lived in.

The men looked around them, confused and wary. Many tales have been spun about the Woods of Vilsrough, stories of an unseen watcher who protected the woods and its inhabitants. The disembodied voice continued its melodious song, its elven words seeming to be a string of unintelligible mumbling.

Then, the words of power finally took effect as the spell ended. Vines and roots stuck out of the ground and reached for the unsuspecting men and their pets. The entire forest floor burst into motion, as the trees themselves seemed to come to life and reach for the men. Panic seized the intruders as they witnessed the very essence of the woods reach out to entangle them.

A hideous smile crept across the face of the elf as he watched the pathetic humans fight for their own puny little lives. That would teach them to have more respect for the woods that he called his home. Then, the entangling plant-life retreated from their assault and freed the men once more. It didn’t take long for the men to know that their presence was not wanted in the foreboding woods.

Ghostly laughter followed the men as they fled from the woodlands in a hurry.

>>#2

A lonely journey

Tap...Tap...Tap...

Footsteps echoed in the backdrop of silence. The scraping of gravel upon the feet. The heels clacking upon loose stones, an endless rhythmic tapping that mirrored the constant beating of the heart.

The essence of time and space itself, seems lost. Trapped somewhere within the recesses of the mind, caged in the monotonous rhythm that now permeates the empty road.

Tap...Tap...Tap...

The journey he made in silence. There was no need for words. There was noone around to listen to them. No other sound, but the beating of a heart - his heart. And of course the tapping of his feet.

His downcast gaze fell upon cold ground. A rough, cold, lifeless gravel road. An earthly silence decorated by dim twilight. All that moved, was his shadow, walking in tune to the rhythm of his feet. His only companion. Always there in the dark of night or the bright of day. His shadow, noticed or otherwise, always there. Just like the rhythm of his feet.

Tap...Tap...Tap...

How lonely he felt. Upon an empty road, traversing across a long journey to nowhere. Led by footsteps left behind by a stranger. Yet...

Tap...Tap...Tap...

He felt at peace. Under the silvery sheen of heavenly bodies, he'd never felt more at one with himself. Just like the quiet air that swum with him through his journey, so was his mind in harmony. It made a monotonous beat. A slow, deathly heavy beat that echoed his footsteps. On and on, till the end of time.

Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap...

History wrapped in my eyes

Tears are the safety valve of the heart when too much pressure is laid on it - Albert Smith

In all the traits that is of a woman
For all the strengths of a mother
And hidden amidst the beauty of a girl
Her greatest assets are her tears.

The soft quiet defenders of the eyes. Always there but never noticed.

The shield of my eye. The silent mark of compassion. Within it lies numerous marks and scars. It is my wailing cry of pain. It holds much of my sympathy. And within it, is my world of joy.

No amount of words could describe the pain hidden within a single tear. Sadness multiplied a thousand fold. Despair unimaginable in a flood of emotional turmoil. The wounds of the heart unleashed in a single tear drop.

In silence, I would cry.

Within the sufferings of others, I sense unease. Within their pain, I sense the broken pieces of peace. And for them I would shed my tears. For in their tears, I feel the weight of years. They're in pain, and for that, I am too.

In their pain, I would cry.

And when greatness is bestowed upon me, that brings elation and happiness beyond explanation, I could only answer with tears. Only with the sparkling rain of moisturous emotion.

In joy, I would cry.

Looking back upon my years, remembering my past happiness and sadness, all I could do is cry.

Criticise me...

To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing. - Elbert Hubbard

No matter where we turn, there's no hiding from the eyes of people. People and their sharp snake-like tongues. People stabbing with their accusive glares and abrasive comments. And there is nothing we can do to successfully avoid such circumstances entirely. It is a fact of life.

Take a walk down the street. Twirl a pen or flip a coin. What are the chances that a random passer-by might have a stray comment or instinctual judgement of your character as well as the way you walk?

Looking at perhaps the way you walk or twirl your pen, there may be a hundred and one different things about you that he may wish to comment and criticise. Such is the story for over a million and one things that we do in this world. We are constantly being watched and judged.

The best defense against it, lurks somewhere deep in the depths of your mind. It is what some may call, nonchalant ignorance.

You can't let praise or criticism get to you. It's a weakness to get caught up in either one. - John Wooden

People are constantly judging what we say and do. Once we learn to accept this fact and cope with it, life would be so much simpler. Words are merely words. Comments merely suggestions. If you wish to take heed, then do so. Otherwise, let it slide.

Some criticisms are made in good faith. Meant to show the path to self-betterment. These, ought to be taken gracefully. Smile and thank the critic. For perhaps, his point of view may help, rather than hinder your progress. Take his suggestions and give it some thought. Though you may not decide to follow through with his idea, at least give it some thought.

There are also those who criticise with the intention of hurting. Them, you can ignore. Words meant to hurt are nothing more than the barkings of a stray dog.

If your heart acquires strength, you will be able to remove blemishes from others without thinking evil of them - Mahatma Ghandi

The strong judge only to help, not to hurt. Remember that.

A Fool I Am...Just A Fool....

Thoughts. My thoughts. A hundred and one abstract concepts that run through my head like the gush of water from an open tap. All of them meaningless philosophies. Few of them even directly beneficial to my everyday life. So why do I think about these things?

The hidden meaning of life, reasons why things happen, words of wisdom and random bits of information that have little to do with myself. Why do I think about all these things? Trying to solve puzzles that need no solving. It's an addiction. But why do I do it?

Aren't I better off tackling the more urgent troubles in my life? Why do I not, instead, concentrate on the emotional trauma and mental distress that is really plaguing me? Am I just trying to escape from my problems by directing my attention onto other things? Am I just being a coward?

I had thought it wisdom to be asking these things. But really, am I seeking enlightenment, or behaving like the fool that I am? Wisdom is the search for knowledge to better understand and love life. Yet now, I feel absolutely no love for this life. No hatred, but no love either. Just an empty space.

Again I continue to digress my thoughts away from me. Has my insignificance made me unnoticable even to myself? Or perhaps, I'm searching for an antidote for the troubles that haunt me by looking out to my surroundings. Seeking solace in this little playground God has put me in. The very same place that has been the source of all my scars. Indeed I am a fool.

The Dead Heart

Ain, I read your blog, and I think I've figured out what you might be looking for, so here goes nothing:

When the heart suffocates in silence. When emotions run amuck. When all you feel, is darkness and pain, and all your thoughts are a-jumble. That is when you know that your heart is dead.

You could plaster a smile upon your face. Play a facade of cheery laughter to family and friends. Few people would even know, that deep down inside, your heart is dead.

It is not something you could say. Neither is it something you could describe. It is silence. Nothing. Emptiness. Void. A palatable dark hole in your heart that just eats away into your sanity. And all you could do, is suffer in silence. Nobody knows; because nobody hears it. Absolutely nobody can hear it.

You break down and cry. They would ask why. But there is no way to tell them. It is not something that can be spoken or described. There is no name for it. It can only be felt. Could they understand that there is a deep gash in your heart? Could they see the emptiness? Thus you suffer alone, screaming in the silence.

When the heart is frozen and silenced, all that's left, is a fragile mind. You mumble to fill the emptiness. You try to make some noise. But the void persists. Your heart is hollow.

You grow numb. Moments fleet past you, remaining only as blur tickings of the clock. Smudged by the invisible hands of pain and sadness, you let it slip. What is there left to do? Your heart, is dead.

Meaning of Silence

Ever wondered what life would be like without sound? What would it be like to have absolutely no sense of hearing? Pause for a minute and think. How important is your sense of hearing?

Then, slow down and listen. What do you hear? What is it that your ears are telling you? What is the world screaming out to you?

A myriad of sounds and dronings that never stop. Ever-flowing, ever-buzzing and ever-changing. Be it upon the roadside during peak hours of traffic, or under star-light, by the beach. From the droning of car engines and blaring horns to the still quiet shuffling of the waves upon the sand.

What if there was no sound? What if, all you heard, was a deathly empty silence that was beyond description? No low buzzing sound, no shrill humming, not even the beat of your heart and the soft sound of the pen writing upon the pad. What if, there was silence?

Not a spoken word. Just a silent play of images. Living a life of total, absolute silence. Seeing the world in new light. The light of a deaf man. Try reliving a single day of your life without sound. What would it be like?

Few among us appreciate the sounds we hear. A child's cries, a mother's tears, tweeting of birds and the buzzing of bees. Once it all disappears, how would you feel? Would you enjoy the silence? What will you see?

See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls.- Mother Teresa

Blood

Blood. Boiling lava coursing through my veins.

Burning red scars; Imprints of life upon sheets of reality.

The red elixir of life; The color of pain.

The messenger of life. Bringer of tranquility.
~


Red paint accompanied by blackness.

Warm streaks of lightning upon the cold.

Fissures piercing an empty canvas.

The harbinger of change.
~


Red fires of burning passion.

Purveyor of justice and wanton destruction.

The sacred ties abinding.

The primordial judge
~


You. The keeper of knowledge.

The mentor of old.

The grim wise sage.

Death bringer and life giver. The master of forms.
~


You. Surrounded by mitigating fumes of undeath.

Filled with the decaying stench of life.

A squirming ooze filled with power.

Trickling away from my hands like sand. Blood.
~



~
Within the deadly silence of the night, when all that you can hear is nothingness, you are alone. The world stops moving. Everything dies. And that you can hear,is the sound of your heart beating.

That silence, snaps you back to reality. You awaken to the sound of your blood pumping in your veins. What had once seemed to be emptiness, now exists a fog. A whirring blaze of ooze that runs through the tunnels in your veins.

The more you listen to it, the deeper you enter into this trancelike state of silence. Your heart beats. Once. Twice. Three times. It all goes into a crawl. Nothing. Everything just became nothing.

And within the empty blackness of your mind, It begins to paint a picture. The thumping mirrors your soul. Within the calm serenity of the night, your blood is the only thing that is screaming.

The silence. It accentuates nothing, and everything. As you listen to blood, pumping through your veins, you will learn. Learn from the heart that beats within you. Read upon the red scrolls that run through the tunnels of your soul. Listen to your blood, screaming from within. One. Two. Three.



Hushhhhhh......

Broken Heart

A final comfort that is small, but not cold: The heart is the only broken instrument that works. - T.E Kalem

Under the sunlit warmth of the deep blue skies
Ravaged by the coldness of your smiles
I lay in wait, I crumble in pain
There's no changing what's been written

Fate cannot be changed, destiny will be fulfilled
The bright of day shall always give way to night
In my heart, the truth is real. Too real
You were never mine to begin with. Just a dream

White clouds roll by, leaving a trail of stars
Decorating the sky with bright white scars
Impregnable beauty enslaved in worldly sight
Enstranged with ribbons, lined in fractures

The rules of the world cannot be bent
I will be broken by those words unspoken
My heart has been crippled
I have been chained by you

My life meanders onwards without you
Endless rantings of broken wishes bedeck the plains
All of them pointing, pointing back the way I came
All of them crying, crying out your name

Withered and broken by words unspoken
I yell out your name, and yet, I'm not heard
I'm just hurt, painfully hurt
I lie broken but alive, very much alive

Alone I'm left with a heart lying dead
Tears trickling from eyes burnt red
Nobody notices, nobody cares
Not even you, the one I adore

But I fear not fate
What is emptiness if not the lack of things to lose?
Mayhap one day the bitterness will leave
In the mean time, I shall nurse my broken heart with grief.



I thought when love for you died, I should die. It's dead. Alone, most strangely, I live on. - Rupert Brooke

Life in virtue

Without virtue, man can have no happiness in this world - Benjamin Franklin

Virtues. Manliness. Strength.

Virtue is a source of strength in a person. It is the preternatural instinct embedded within the human spirit, that identifies the difference between right and wrong. It is what governs the way we behave. It is the central backbone of the human conscience and morality.

It involves a code of ehtics that give rise to responsibility and kindness. It is the father to sportsmanship and good will amongst friends, family as well as rivals.

Yet, virtues can differ from one person to the next, changing according to circumstances and situations. And amidst this wide range of virtuous difference that exists in this sea of people, we are left to ask, which is the most virtuous and magnificent of all the codes of conducts which we follow? Be kindness more important than honor? Should courage be held in highest esteem as compared to humility? Is love more important than justice?

What would happen when our code of ethics is put in question? What if you are forced to make a difficult decision that challenges the very virtues that you live by? What will you do?

What is your code of ethics? What is it that gives you the strength to act on despite challenges? Have you ever wondered why you make the choices that you make in life? Are you driven by courage, strength or bravery? Do you believe in the power of humility or love? Discover yourself. Find the virtues that are instilled within you.

Live by the code
Die by the code
Find yourself in faith
Brand yourself in it

Set afire yonder heart
Shed light upon the inner self
Close away the shadows of uncertainty
Live within virtuous tenacity

Know oh child of the blind
That laws govern your heart
Find peace in them
Reach for tranquility's storm

Find your tunes of harmony
Seek for balance
Only you can find the light
For you are the one who sheds it

Shine...shine...shine...

First comes marriage, then comes love,

Be there a flower that can choose its pollen. Be there a seed that chooses where it lands?

As people, we've all wished for the freedom to choose. The freedom to decide.

Who do you want for a spouse? Who is deserving of that position of being a husband or wife to you? Who should be the one to decide that? You? The other half? Your family? Or friends?

And what should the decision be based upon? Love? Or isit background. Who he is, what you want or need. What he can give you. Or perhaps, what his family or yours, is like.

Marriage has always been a big and celebrated event. The union of two souls to become one. To forever exist together till the day when you die. Though it doesn't always turn out as lovely as it is made out to be.

But really, who does reserve the right to choose your soul mate? Would you let your parents make this difficult, life-changing decision? Or would you rather be the one to decide?

We live in a world where love is made out to be the pre-determining factor in marriage. In order for you to marry someone, you have to love him first. And as such light is shed, it is impossible for a marriage that is decided before such feelings blossom, to work. But is this a misconception?

How many of the people you know married because they wanted to do so? And were their spouses of their choosing? Do they like the life they live in now?

How many of the people you know married to people of their parents' choosing? What kind of lives do they live in? Is it any better?

Would you marry someone of your parents' choosing?

The basis of any good family's choice would most often be upon religion, background and character. That couldn't be bad, now, could it? To have your spouse picked and chosen by those whom care for you.

That prospect is one that would be gladly entertained by those whom are free from the whims of a young child touched by the tendrils of free-roaming love and affections. But those whom have felt the tugging of crushes and affections, it may appear to be more of a burden. Would a life lived in marriage to a person other than the one you love be happy one?

Would you want to live if your husband or wife, was not the one you wanted to marry? Would it be a happy marriage? Could you love him?

The question really, is why not?

Marriage proposed by parents, is a decision done on the basic thought that it would lead to good for the family, as well as the child in question. Would that the marriage bring prosperity and bright prospects to te family as a whole. As for the couple to be married, well, to love someone is to learn to live with that person.

Love is cultivated. Marriage, is a contract. Love can grow in almost any circumstance. This desert flower could plant itself within the hearts of strangers. Even those bound by the ties of marriage before it could blossom. So the question is, do You wish to choose the one you love, or would you like to leave it to the hands of your elders?

Be there a flower that can choose its pollen. Be there a seed that chooses where it lands?

My answer: We are that flower. We are that seed.

Fragmented vision.

It has always been a deterrent in our search for understanding. It is the line upon which the limits of our capabilities are drawn on. It is what makes us human.

The human mind is a gem. A multi-faceted jewel encased in glimmering starlight. It is beautiful, but its vision is flawed: Limited and refracted by the very faces that give it its beauty.

The human person's understanding of the universe is limited by what he can see or comprehend. And more often than not, what he sees is but a small fraction of the overall structure. The tip of the iceberg.

The young child who plays at the playground doesn't understand why it makes her happy. She just knows that it does.

The physicist knows of the existence of gravity. Yet he does not know exactly how or why it is there. It just is.

Likewise, the artist paints up beautiful pictures that many praise and envy. But when asked of the source of his inspirations, his answers would be vague. He does not know.

When asked question after question after question after question, we would, in the end, find ourselves baffled by one question or another. None among us could boast of infinite knowledge. Likewise, there is non among us who could see and comprehend the wholeness and the workings of the universe. The ways of the world, are hidden from us.

We only know what we see, and only see what we know. This is where our judgement is flawed. For we decide based upon an incomplete picture. How well can we decide with barely half the facts in our hands?

People are always asking "why do we have to suffer?" or "why do things have to be the way they are?". These, are signs of our ignorance and shallow insight. This shows just how far we can see into the heart of the world we live in.

There are reasons why things are the way they are. And there's a very good reason why we do not see these reasons clearly. Even though they stare upon us right in the face.

That reason, hides deep within our hearts. For the knowledge and understanding that we seek, lies not outside, but within us. We are just too blind to see. For our eyes, look upon the world with biasness. With a vision that centers, upon...us. So when you look upon the world, ask yourself, "What am I looking at?"

If you see it the way I see it, you may never find the answer to that question...