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shyamli masksktch3

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shyamli masksktch1

bedlam completed…

Bedlam  

Fear perched precariously on his double edged sword… glinting a blinding blue gray as he held it up to the sun… breathing… each breath drawing him closer to the last… maybe.  

A heavy chant impregnated the fire laden skies… the altos swaying with the sopranos in a mad dance of death.  

Kahñer breathed out dread and glanced at his army of fifteen men and four Hengians.  

“They need you brothers. I need you. Have you not wronged for long enough? It’s not too late to purge yourselves of the sins and crimes… join me in this war brothers, and all will be forgiven…” his  words haunted the empty tug inside of him. Where had he led them?

A sudden roar brought him back to the war ground, which had fallen into a deathly silent hollow. A hundred feet away from him loomed a bovine beast of monstrous proportions, adorned with horns that would skewer a mountain itself. Disbelief cut through him as his eyes saw a hundred such beasts appear over the horizon… the King had come prepared.  

“This, my friends, is where our lives really begin.”

“This is how it was prophecised, my dear Kahñer…. Just like this.”

Kahñer turned back to look at this strange union of brave men and henges that stood unshaken at the sight of the doom that awaited them. Ŵizerah, Ċharməgh, Heletiąn and Vidέŕat… his four worst enemies, united only under the threat of the very “end”. Ŵizerah spoke again, “It is but a pity that we failed as friends before, Kahñer. I believe however that we all shall get out of this alive and victorious.”  

Heletiąn breathed in deep and laughed as he stared at the rising dust on the horizon… “You might have spoken too soon Ŵizerah… we are facing the irked wrath of Chaos herself.”  

The fifteen humans stared at Sarmēh’s army closing in on the….

“Kahñer, we’ve lived as cowards for years together… but today we shall prove that our flesh and blood is not out weakness. We will bleed for our freedom… bleed in thanks to you. We might be just twenty… but we shall fight till Eden collapses and takes us in. We shall leave for the same heaven Kahñer… you have already saved us.” Spoke Sauhun, the youngest human boy in the army.  

Kahñer smiled.

“BROTHERS… WE ARE HERE TO RAISE HELL IN THE LANDS OF STONEHENGE… brace yourselves.”

And just like that, the horn sounded and Kahñer and his small army got swallowed up  in Sarmēh’s torrential legionary waves.  

Kahñer plunged deep into the ranks with his gold sword and armour. With each blow he brought down a beast, the rider only temporarily indisposed…shocked.

Sarmēh was still out of sight.  

The dust had formed a thick fog around them, so Kahñer could hardly see the rest of his comrades. He swung around striking at everything and everyone within his reach.

He had ploughed through only five soldiers when he saw it.  

Sauhun’s severed head hanging by his hair… held towards the sky in the hands of Sarmēh. Sarmēh smiled as he cradled the floating crystal ball… as he sat there high on the beast.  

Kahñer felt an explosion of loatheful insanity in his head as he screamed and charged towards Sarmēh’s beast, the rest of the world blurred behind the first drops of tears that drowned his eyes… yes, he felt.  

Ŵizerah froze for a moment, almost hypnotized by Kahñer’s madness… then drawing a deep breath he leapt back to the throes of his own madness. The war. The long fateful war.  

7 men already dead… their heads floating in the tide of Sarmēh’s sorcery. His mind flew back to the time when Kahñer and he had fought over Sahsha… oh wasn’t she beautiful… he had lost and vowed to hate Kahñer come eternity. She had died just an year ago.  

No… they had both lost, this would be their only victory… even if they had had  to die to achieve it.  

He swung his sword to hit the hilt of the hengian sickle and the next blind blow of his brought down another hengian… only a moment later he realised it was his own son he had slayed. He choked back a cry and ran the other way… there were more to be killed… more to be punished.  

He had hardly gone five steps when a beast plunged its horns deep into his chest… only to tear him to half and step on his plundered body as it too walked away… to kill a few more… punish a few more.  

Kahñer pushed through hengian soldiers to reach Sarmēh’s beast.  

He was now the only one left… but he wouldn’t turn to ashes so soon. Mad with rage he climbed up the beast to reach Sarmēh’s thorny fortress.

“It was always just between you and I, Kahñer…. You failed them… you failed yourself. And now you dare to come here to battle with me?… have you no shame? No pride?” guffawed the King still staring at his crystal ball.  

“You’re drunk on your own powers, Sarmēh… but you forget that my powers lie not too far behind… I believe we have both been awaiting this moment since forever and now it has come, Sarmēh … what are you going to do?? Destroy your own creation and play God for one more time, Sarmēh…. The humans won’t stay still anymore, king…they have awoken to their own strength… you have already lost, destroying me will only irk them even further.”  

“Is the SAVIOUR asking to be saved?? Words have lost their meaning, Kahñer… and you’re simply aiding this somber somber loss by spewing out your garble. If you want to save ANYONE… FIGHT me Kahñer… fight your own father. I am fear Kahñer… breathe me in.

Breathe. Me. In.”

Malice smiled across Sarmēh’s face as he stared at Kahñer’s silhouette against the blinding glare of the now visible sun.

Kahñer beheld the sudden quiet that had fallen around them… and beheld the absolute emptiness that met with his eyes. No monsters… no corpses… no trampled grounds, just a clear desert sky swept by winds raising a maelstrom.

“Your face betrays your bewilderment, Kahñer. You go on forgetting that I am but the master of your mind… my whimsical fantasies destroyed your men and you thought you had put up a great FIGHT! A BATTLE?? Twenty soldiers against the imagination of the king… and yet … all you are left with are pulverized memories of your dreams of “independence”…”

A strain of a strange melody drowned the rest of king’s word’s… it took Kahñer a moment to realise that this melody was flowing only in his mind. His breaths came heavily in short spurts of complete confusion. All he could do was drop down to his knees… laughing and screaming helplessly.

“I can still fight you, Sarmēh, I can still fight you. I may not win… but I shall fight you… AAAAAARGH… FIGHT ME SARMĒH! DESTROY ME IF YOU CAN!”

“FOR SHAME! Hah! Stand up then Kahñer… I shall grant you your wish. This duel, however, I assure you… shall be your last.”

With a shudder he stood upright and regained his senses… he wasn’t there when she died… she had called his name… her last breath had whisked along his name… but he wasn’t there. Sarmēh had needed him that night… to celebrate… Him.

He shook away the memories… trying to tear the grasp of Time… why is he troubling him so now?… why remind him of his blunders now?

But Time clung on… wailing at him… LOOK!! Kahñer! LOOK WHAT HE’S DONE TO YOU!

“… what have you done to me, Sarmēh? What have you done to yourself??”

A pale silence invaded the stillness around them… a haunted Kahñer trembled with rage as he stared at Sarmēh, who stood cradling his crystal… smiling… taunting… unfeeling.  

He clenched  his rage and flung himself at Sarmēh… and seized the burning globe… and holding it in his singed palms he screamed and un-sounding scream… and that sudden instant,

Time wailed a banshee cry once again and swirled around them…. Furling and unfurling her gale like wings… plunging them into a graveyard of a past… taking even the all knowing Sarmēh by surprise as she carried them through the ethereal and the unchangeable.  

Kahñer stood stunned and silent as he stood in the silent halls of the royal gallows… and the king crouched in a dark corner… whimpering and shivering…. The stench of blood overpowered his own fears.

He watched Sarmēh losing his grasp on his mind and slipping into his, Kahñer’s, maddening memories.

He heard the silent screams that escaped the giant king as he threw himself at the doors… let me out… OUT….out.

Sarmēh fell amongst the carpet of limbs and flesh that he had  executed… Kahñer had then played the undertaker.

Another wail… another gust… Kahñer had fallen in love… fought for its keep… and lost it when Sarmēh had her poisoned.

Kahñer struggled to his feet as his watched the king on his knees sobbing… crying for forgiveness as Sahsha lay retching and dying on her bed… crying for Kahñer.

Sarmēh gasped for breath between his raking sobs… “Forgive me Kahñer… as I have sinned…”

Another flutter of Time’s wings swept them to that fateful day…

Kahñer slayed his own brother… he had loved him as his stone heart would let… and the pain that had bled through him them now sunk her fangs into Sarmēh…

A screeching wind threw them back to the battle ground, with Sarmēh lying prostate on the ground… staring blankly at the sky.

Kahñer stood clutching the crystal ball, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.  

“They said I was the saviour… but no one ever told him whom I was to have saved. It was you, Sarmēh… I had to save you…” With his he loosened his grasp from the crystal ball, watching it fall through the ever thickening fog; and in the blink of an eye a shudder engulfed all that was around me.

Nothingness had once again regained its throne swallowing the hengians and leaving only a graveyard of stones the humans that basked in the dark sunshine in this skeleton of a home that never was.…

EPILOGUE

I now curl once again in the clear glass globe and all I can see is a fiery red dust swirling and kissing the skin of this cocoon that share with billions of souls like me. Its strange… being in another universe… leaving behind what now seem like surreal memories. But I have not the time to indulge in peeping to the graves of hurtful memories… I have much too much to do… much too much to see… much too much to tell.  

shyamli panda

a new chapter

The story I shall write…:

To go down memory lane and think of how the universe was set in motion; the entire story was an overwhelming experience. But of course, a lot more happened. I decided that I shall pass on this story of mine to everyone who was born to read and preach the philosophies of life. I shall be the source of their inspiration, their spark of thought, just like I have always been.

So I took a long scroll of paper and a nice graceful looking pen. I sat down, sat down to write, write the stories of the transitory souls, the hero of the earth, the human ego and the plight of nature. What was to become of the earth, I knew. But will everyone else get the chance to know? Lest this earth be completely shattered, for these creatures have dug their grave. If there was the slightest chance of at least half a life form to survive, my tale can be passed down for the generations to come.

It was a little after dusk, when the light of the sun poured through the mesh of my little cottage. Ah, the cottage: it was a gift for me from Menseniota. He said it was important for me to understand structures and how it could function for the good. So he gave me this structure called the cottage. Menseniota was not such a bad soul after all. After this little gesture of his, he went away to take care of the other planets I think. After all, I am not aware of what else the sun has given birth to. There must be races and communities elsewhere by now. I can’t keep track of everything. Menseniota must be fighting other battles. I wonder if he could ever lose.

My thoughts always wander. It is one thing I can never have full control of. So I shift my concentration back to the story. What happened after I lost? Well… the birth of the first man and woman. The transitory souls: Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I smiled in fond memory. I began to write.

Chapter 8:
A long long time ago, after I lost to Menseniota, the first creatures of life on earth came into existence. Menseniota gave them legs and hands, very similar to what Frenpanio had, and he gave them unique drops of reflection and crescents of wisdom.
After this very special day, it was time for earth’s life to start its cycle. This special day marked the birth of the transitory souls. The transitory souls were nothing but the first creatures of mankind to have been brought to life on earth. They came directly from my hands, from the divine land of nothingness.

They were a race and community of their own. They were embraced by nature and they had the most beautiful home that any creature on earth could have asked for. The entire clan stayed in the beautiful land of Savanamaki and stayed together refining their wisdom and polishing their intellects. The clan was headed by the famous Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The clan of transitory souls respected Hiroshima and Nagasaki for their profound wisdom and use of ideas. Together, they worshipped me, every single day and night, before work and after dark. They were very faithful, and innovative. They made use of me in the best ways possible. (About how this happened I shall tell you a little later).

Some of the other ‘transcendary’ souls were Devimara, Maddox, Anitora, Sitarelia, Gehora, Hazeliara, and Pritanomia and so on. Maddox and Gehora were the brothers of Hiroshima and took care of the clan along with him. Nagasaki and her sisters Devimara and Hazeliara worked together in the betterment of the clan and the preserving of the generations to come.

The day of the Nautionus, which is a day of celebration for the transcendary souls, is celebrated to honor me. It is celebrated one day before the solar New Year, and is marked by decorating the land of the souls with long strings of suspended paper. These papers which have all the ideas and theories written by the clan, every single day of the year, are put up and respected and honored. The strings are then tied up into one large string and tied around the tree of Nautre, which was a large redwood tree in the middle of the land where all the intellects used to gather for discussions and meetings. The paper is then soaked by the rains of the monsoon and embraced by the earth in the hope of inspiring the clan in more numbers of ways than it did thus far. Thus they pray for growing intellect and innovation. The day is usually full of festivities and song and dance, and goes on from dusk till the New Year’s dawn.

When the first Nautionus day was celebrated in the land of Savanamaki, a very special event had occurred; an event that was never known to any creature on the earth. It was something I always pondered long about. It was a phenomenon that I desired should occur soon. And alas, the day had come. My soul jumped in happiness when I witnessed it with my very own sight. It was divine only because nothing of this scale and feel had ever happened in the once upon a time of nothingness. I remember having a conversation about this with Mr. Pool. When the idea of nature and man had come to me first, I discussed it with him. It was a day I have never forgotten. It is vivid still, and now I saw the idea take form. It was the divine union: The union of the first man and woman.

It was at the end of dusk when the song and dance illuminated the soul of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They gazed at each other the entire evening, appreciating the beauty of each other’s form and strong personalities. That day sparked off a feeling they had never felt before. They felt love for each other. It felt like their souls were lifted up and colored by the light of the moon. Hiroshima was not aware of what he was doing. He followed his intuition. He got up and walked to Nagasaki who was sitting across him amidst the crowd of his own clan. He offered his hand, and bent his head in respect. Nagasaki wondered about this gesture. She paused and then did what her intuition told her to. She laid her hand on his, and lifted her body. He then led her in the middle of the circle of dance, and looked her straight in the eye. He looked at her nose; her perfectly shaped lips, and in one single moment locked his lips on her lips and kissed her intensely. There was a flow of euphoria in both their souls. There came a light of love that lit up the sky and the rest of the clan stared at the light in awe, and clapped in happiness. They realized this moment as the divine union. After the light settled, Hiroshima and Nagasaki went into their shelters and continued to intertwine their bodies. They made love passionately, led by their senses, not fully knowing of what was happening. When the final act was over, Hiroshima kissed Nagasaki’s eyes and said
“Nagasaki, our souls have met. We are one. May the labor of our love be born to us soon. You have been blessed to be the first of our kind to give birth. Like all the gods of nothingness have done, the savior of our souls shall be born from you. You are special.”

Nagasaki didn’t understand fully what was said, but trusting Hiroshima’s words of wisdom, she sensed that these lines were a message from me. In a state of bliss, she nodded and looked forward to what was to come.

(All the names are temporary. They are subject to change)

-Pallavi.M

WORKSHOP TWO – MARCH 10 – MASKS TO COSTUMES

Hello Again -

Dwarki is returning to do the second workshop in the Mythologies course.

He will help you take your masks forward and help integrate them with the costumes you make.

You will all bring your masks and emblems (printed out) to class on March 10.

Dwarki will show you how to make costumes that suit your character.

This will be done using the “less is more” principle as in the Masks workshop.

Remember, the costume you will be making in this workshop must manifest your

chosen character along with your mask.

Bring along materials like last time:

1. Hand-made paper

2. Brown paper

3. Glue, scissors, paint, stapler, pins, sequins and such accessories.

4. Fabrics of your choice.

Enjoy your workshop!

Avy and Koshy

It’s Snot True Part IV

Chapter 4

Trouble was brewing.

And he let out quite the stink while doing so. He knew things were going horribly wrong. Shame lurked behind him. The time had come for them to descend upon the Earth.

Empathy was distraught. The incident on Earth had caused much pain to Her and those She held dear. Her first born, Innocence, had been burnt badly by the whole affair. After all, on Earth, Vaari had lost her innocence. Time seemed to be losing Himself in all that was happening. He would stare at Empathy with a vacant expression in His eyes, as She’d try to get Him to intervene. Nothing seemed to console Her children either. On the terrestrial front, mankind (Ouranos and Gaia’s family) were stunned. Of the lot, Neppu was broken. He tried to fight for his brother’s cause, but when the Head of the Naiads appeared, he knew all hope was lost. The sentence was softened a little. This was Gaia’s son, and Gaia was respected by all. The verdict – banishment. Prithibi was to be banished forever. No contact was allowed to be made with him at all. As for Vaari – he was never to see her again. She was to stay confined to her aqueous world for the rest of eternity.

Prithibi was like a zombie. The only part of his sentence that provoked any sort of reaction in him was the fact that he was never to see  Vaari again. He howled in anguish. He begged. He pleaded. Then he returned to silence.

Empathy was beginning to break. The pain She felt was unbearable.

Anger began to seep into him.

The last thing he ever said was to his parents and his brother.

He told them he hated them.

———————————————–

Self Pity could feel her beauty being restored to her. The devastation she had caused returned her strength. Even her babies were looking all pink and healthy, their tantrums getting louder, and more demanding. It was truly a day of celebration for them all!

———————————————-

Chapter 5

Prithibi wandered on aimlessly, in a trance. The only thing he knew was his grief. He yearned to be with Vaari. He was not aware of all that was around him, all that he passed, all that he destroyed in his passing. Finally he fell in a faint. He thrashed about, reaching out for help, but hearing no soothing words of comfort, or feeling a familiar touch. He lay there in his madness. No one coming to his aid. He yearned for water, he yearned for comfort, he yearned for a cool touch to his fevered brow. His dreams tormented him He thought he saw people – Vaari, his mother. Yet, he couldn’t reach them. They smiled at him, then laughed at him, then walked away. He struggled and fought, and finally there was peace. An inky blackness overtook him as he fell deeper into unconsciousness.

When he came through, all around him was green. It wasn’t familiar to him at all. He was on a bed of sorts, cool green leaves surrounding him. There was something on his forehead. Soporific music was playing softly in the background. He tried getting up and found it was an extremely laborious task. There was some movement and then a sound. Prithibi tried looking around but it was too much of an effort. Shortly after that, a host of People walked in to where he was. They were strange looking creatures. Brown skinned, with deep lines marking their faces. But they had soft eyes, which were filled with concerned relief. They narrated to him how they had found him on the outskirts of their home, on a patch of barren land. In fact, that was what had drawn them there in the first place. No land for miles around was barren. It was he who had caused that barrenness. They had brought him in afraid at first that he might suck away the home they had taken such care to build. But they realized it was just his sickness that had made him like this. That was 4 score days ago. He had been asleep for a very long while. They hadn’t thought he’d make it. He didn’t remember much. In fact, he had very little recollection of what was before. He only knew of his decision to remain silent. And this he did. He looked at them questioningly, and they laughed self-consciously. They had soft musical lilting voices. They had forgotten to introduce themselves. They were the constant gardeners of the Earth – the Dryads.

* * * * *
 
Prithibi lived with them. He learnt of their way of life. He learned about the trees, and how to feel their heart beat. How to cure a sick tree, and what leaves to pick for certain occasions. He sat for hours amongst the cool branches of a weeping willow, thinking, dreaming. It was peaceful with the Dryads. They looked up to him, he taught them a lot of things too, just by his behaviour. They didn’t press him to talk, which was a relief for him. He helped them till the land, grow new plants, take care of the sick ones, and make sure for every tree that died, a new one was planted. The lived together well.

Yet there was something bothering him. Something that would creep into his head at night, and torment his dreams. Flashes of words, of faces, of unknown beauty. He would wake up in a cold sweat every time. He was slowly becoming an insomniac. In the perfection he had come to know and respect, there was something missing. One such night, he decided to walk. He walked through the shades of green, the thick grass below his feet not making a sound. Everything was wet with dew, so the forest sparkled like a million jewels. The odd cicada would start to sing. And he walked on by. He tried to remember what was before. He wracked his memory, but could find nothing. There were just the flashes – shadows of his dreams. He walked on.

There was a clearing ahead of him. Something was sparkling. The breeze picked up. Prithibi walked on. There in front of him, reflecting the sad face of the moon was a lake. The surface shimmered, catching the light in places. A twig snapped somewhere, and an owl began to hoot. Prithibi’s head started to hurt. There was something familiar about this, a deja vu. He had been in this space before. The familiarity of it was jarring. He sat down at the water’s edge. Let the cool liquid trickle through his fingers. Then he heard it. A soft chant, that sounded like the wind through a hollow bamboo shoot. Instinctively, he hid, so as to not be seen. The chant became louder, as panic rose in Prithibi’s throat. Then it died out, into a watery sound. He came out of his hiding place only to see the surface of the lake broken, ripples dancing towards the edge of it. He looked into the water and he saw. He saw what had been, what had happened, the shadows becoming real. His nightmare unfolding before his eyes. And then there was Vaari, and the pain doubled inside him. He howled. The first sound he had uttered in what we would call five years. He dug his fists into the soft loamy soil of the banks, and cried for the injustice of it all. The earth around his fingers began to blacken, the plants wither and die. Hatred poured out of him, blackening the water. It had begun.

———————————————-

The Baamons sensed a disturbance in their Earth. It had happened once before, some five years ago. Of course, when they reached the spot, the cause could not be found. All they saw was burnt dead earth. The wound was terrible. It was about six feet deep. It had taken them a long time to soothe it, and restore it. Though, it must be noted, the land was still weak. Some cracks were still visible on the surface. And it was happening again. They knew the Dryads were involved somehow.

Let me explain, the Dryads and the Baamons worked hand in hand to keep the land healthy. But the Baamons were suspicious characters. They didn’t trust anyone. They truly believed they were the best at the job, and involvement from anyone else was just a pain. They believed they’d actually have to redo the work that the others did, because EVERYONE else did such a shoddy job. Very rarely would you catch a Baamon actually complimenting someone else’s work. They were grumpy sort of people, but very hard workers, completely dedicated to the land. And they were soft on the inside, despite anything they said!

But the rift between the Dryads and the Baamons had started five years ago, when they found that the cause of the Burning was residing with the Dryads. They were furious. They ruled out the Dryads as being completely incompetent, totally self-centered creatures. They had not seen eye to eye from then. They believed the cause should be terminated. But that was too harsh a treatment for the Dryads, who were gentle folk. They empathized with Prithibi. He was sick, they had said. It was the sickness. They asked for compassion, after all he was Gaia’s son. And the Baamons had had nothing to do with them ever since.

Now here, the burning had begun again. This time, it was much worse than before. Even the Dryads had felt it. They rushed to the spot, and the sight that greeted their eyes was like a slap. Prithibi, doubled over, his fists full of mud, howling into the night sky, all the earth around him was black, the plants shriveled and dead. There was no other sound except for his agony. The blackness was growing, the circumference of the circle stretching outwards by the minute. They couldn’t get to him. If the poison needed to be stopped, it could only be done so by him. One Dryad who was quite close to Prithibi ran around the lake to the water’s edge. He knew what might be able to stop the madness from consuming Prithibi forever. He beckoned the Naiads. He begged for Vaari. They refused. He showed them the poison and they turned their heads. The Dryad was getting desperate. He called upon the Sacred Rule of the Keepers. This rule applied to the keepers of the land – the Baamons, the Dryads, the Naiads, and the Zephyros -

“When the land is in desperate need, when the hour of the Damned befalls the Earth, we shall rise as one, and work as one. Protection is our foremost duty. Any one Keeper in time of need will be responded to by the rest of Us with equal fervor, or else may we be banished from the Sacred Knot of the Keepers.”

This was an oath that bound each of the Keepers to one another. The Naiads could not refuse.

And Vaari was summoned.

Prithibi looked up from his stupor to see a vision. A dream walking towards him, on the surface of the lake. It was her! His Vaari! She had returned!

She smiled at him, but her smile was that of pure sadness. He held out his arms to her, and she came to him. They held each other for the longest time possible. He cradled her, kissing every inch of her pale blue skin. Then she spoke. She told him of the last five years. Of the torment she had faced. Of how much she had missed him, and how much she loved him. She told him of his brother, and how he was with son, a boy named Bhoomi, after his uncle. She told him of how she knew of his every step, his sickness, and how she had felt his pain. She kissed his tears away. He swore to never let go of her again. To never let her out of his sight. But she told him she had to leave. Theirs was a story that would never be one. She reminded him of the night of their Union, and how she had told him that her immortality made her bound to the waters forever, and thus they could never be. But she swore to love him forever. The poison was lessening. The circle around them began to shrink. He spent eternity in that moment, knowing what she said was the truth, and finally beginning to resign himself to it. They made a Promise. Their love would be forever. He would meet her through his keeping of the Earth with the Dryads. That’s when he would be closest to her. She promised him a gift, telling him when the time was right it would appear to him, and he would know. She started to fade. He wanted to hold on. One tear, shining like a pearl, slipped down her face, and fell to the earth. Life started to grow again. A weeping willow. He sat there long after she was gone. For once, even the Baamons were struck dumb. Sadness was to prevail in that area forever.

Prithibi swore his life to the Dryads to be in their service forever.

And then he also swore revenge.

———————————————-

Empathy’s heart went out to this poor child of her creation. She begged Self Pity to release him from the pain he was in, knowing that Anger dwelt in him and fed off his pain. She begged Time to intervene. He was in a world of His own. She knew She was losing Him.

Self Pity laughed hysterically. And tightened her hold over her power on Earth. Trouble and Shame descended upon Earth, and Empathy knew the only way to end this was to fight. The war had already begun. She felt a strange sense of calm overtake Her. With a renewed strength, She went over to Time and kissed Him goodbye. For all She knew, this would be the last… well.. time, She saw Him. He was babbling about creation. And petting another blob, completely oblivious of Empathy’s presence.

She turned and left.

The blob He had been petting ceased to exist after he tried giving it a little… umm.. “hug”.

And once again, Time found himself in the company of Loneliness.

The Story Of Man-Chapter Four: Songs of freedom

The Precious Few resided in the center of the state. They led a luxurious life. Man being a social animal has the urge to entertain. They brought in poets and musicians, wine and cheese. There were courtesans and jesters, writers and women. Theatre also came into being. Politics and commerce, life and the whole were discussed at the Center.

All these privileges were limited to the Precious Few.

The common man was far removed from this side of the state.

He, who was initially blinded by his faith, no longer had a voice; and took refuge in music. The common people began to sing, as an expression of life. Of how things are and how they used to be; of how they dreamed things to be. These songs got passed down from one generation to another. This was the common mans’ soul.

There was one commoner Hephaestus, who had a sister Echo who had the most beautiful and captivating voice. For each time she sang, she had everyone around enthralled. They listened to her in pure silence. It was the most magical and enchanting voice one had ever heard.
One of Echo’s songs

You can tell by the way

the flowers sway in the wind

When the rain falls light and gentle

on the soft palette of your hands

You feel it inside

stretching across infinity

the rush of air sweeping through your soul

It lifts you up, above the blades of grass

that graze the soles of your feet

and you float into forever with no fear or despair

The world is but a small speck in the whole.

Sweet release of the self

Into the purple mist you immerse your mind

with tender words as your only companions

you are no longer alone but with the other half

that completes

the two that were meant to be

the bridge across forever, you never walk alone

in the midst of the dandelions swaying,

it is a tryst with heaven

And the stars above shine brighter

brighter than they have ever shone before

The Precious Few heard about Echo and offered her a hefty sum to come live and sing for them at the Center. She refused, for she knew it would mean that she would have to give up all that she knew and loved – the comforts of her home, her family, and Caluodius, to whom she was betrothed. She would have to dedicate her life to the Precious Few, and know nothing else.

This infuriated the Precious Few.

The streets were silenced, and music was only decreed in the courts because of the ignominious position they found themselves in due to Echo’s refusal.

Echo without her song, was like a bird without flight. She soon began to wither. Hephaestus, whose world revolved around his sister, and Caluodius, who couldn’t bear the thought of losing the woman he loved beyond life itself, knew they had to do something.

Caluodius, who was a descendent of The Hermit, knew about the way The World was supposed to be. He, along with Hephaestus roamed the streets with songs of freedom. He knew that the Precious Few could take away his song but couldn’t take away his words.

Caluodius’s Anthem

Equal is how we were created

And equal we shall remain

Truth is what we believe in

The world is ours and the world we shall claim

This land is where we were born

and in this land we shall stay

The fertile soil of the World gives us might

its purest waters make us unconquerable

We will fight, fight for the right

Our voice they may not hear

but our words will be by our side- through day and night

In our walk towards freedom, they will be our swords,

We fight for truth and with honour we shall rise.

Hephaestus’s rhyme of freedom

They can take away our wings but we shall fly

Into the wide horizon, with our words we shall rise

They may strip us of all our fortunes, but the most precious jewel

We still have.

The center will crumble, on our own two feet we shall stand

Tall and strong, with no fear in our hearts

For what we are is true

The greatest strength is our very own pride.

Initially, though, the common man was scared. He didn’t think he had the strength to fight the Supreme. He resisted Caluodius and his radical words. But soon enough found himself longing for a tune. The Common Man led by Caluodius and Hephaestus was a force to reckon with. The Precious Few had underestimated their power. Their army had the strongest men but it didn’t stand tall in comparison to the common man who had passion, determination and above all the collective strength of striving for what they believed in.

Soon the common man overthrew the Precious Few.

They marched their way to victory and fought for freedom with their songs. They found their lost voice. They knew that although they may not be listened to, they were definitely heard.

Caluodius was declared King. He restored the equality of the common man…he gave them what was rightfully theirs. He gave them the power of Speech. Hephaestus was his chief advisor .Echo and Caluodius were married soon after. The World was filled with music for years to come.

The Story Of Man-Chapter Three:The Precious Few

Once they ascended the world from the underground, The Chosen Ones were received with awe; they were revered and listened to. They were respected by most of the people in the clans. People took to them instantly and became devout followers.

They got all the clans to come together as communities. It became the custom to eat meals and celebrate together. Everyone would congregate under the old banyan tree at the end of the day, to listen to the teachings and stories of these men of wisdom. They were told tales that described valor and strength, truth and righteousness. They became living examples of the values of justice, knowledge and honour. The Chosen Ones also advocated vegetarianism, and said that Pig meat was the root cause of all evil. They preached that every grain taken from Nature has to be returned. This, according to The Chosen Ones, keeps the whole world in balance. Thus, the people were introduced to the idea of organized farming and cultivation.

 

There were a few though; the Baalamites (after the devil spoken against by the Hebrews ,the devil of avarice and greed) who did not believe in these wise men. Neither did they believe that being vegetarians was a better way of life nor did they like being told what to do; they wanted to live life on their own terms.

They conspired to get rid of the Chosen Ones and take control of the clans, for the Baalamites sensed the power and saw the control they had over the people.

They figured the best way to get close to was to become committed followers, the Chosen Ones’ Precious Few. They gained their knowledge, absorbed all they had to offer and then eventually get rid of them. They subsequently used all that they had learnt to take control of the clans. The people didn’t dispute their power for they were blinded byn their faith in the Chosen Ones and needed a head to guide them by now.

Soon the Precious Few organized a structure in the clan that benefited them the most. They declared that they were no longer equals. That they were superior and  were bestowed with the power of Knowledge.

The Precious Few would no longer farm and demanded a share of the yield. They declared that only they could drink the water from the sacred spring called Styx. Styx ran right through the center of the town. Travelers, tradesmen, workers, and peasants all drank from this sacred spring. It was regarded as holy for they believed it gave life and made the soil fertile.

 

Now being denied water from Styx, they had to get their water from wells or walk for miles to a little creek that ran on the outskirts of the town. A commoner found drinking water from the sacred spring was severely punished. It no longer was the ‘free for all’ state that this land had started out as.

 

A hierarchical system came into being. The Uppers and the Lowers. They decided how the people of the clans were to behave. They made all the decisions and made all the rules.

The Precious Few grew greedier for power and it wasn’t long before they claimed their position as the Supreme.

 

Ria Rajan