Kingship

Everything happens for a reason, it gives way to another thing happening, there's no such thing as chaos or uncertainty, it all happens - slowly, silently, behind our backs, we are unaware of the consequences yet we want to be prepared for the worse, we know that we cannot prevent it yet we sharpen our swords, fuel our tanks and keep the jets flying in the air, and when the time does come, we are never ready enough.
               
The fear of the unknown has drowned empires with it, cities lost up till now that are not yet discovered, some under the sea while others in the very earth we walk over. Flesh, blood and bone is no match to what the future holds, yet we claim to be kings and conquerors. The power of a single man can free a thousand of souls from their bodies if the king is tyrant and can give a thousand bodies, souls if the king is just and kind. Kings - oh yes, they have ruled our world from centuries. What makes them the rulers? What do they have that a subject or a common man cannot have? Some are born kings but some find their ways into the palace through streets or even through the courts where plots and deceptions are given birth. One man's death is another man's life, and another man's life is some other man's reason to scheme for the life just snatched. A trade - between life and death, soul and body, loyalty and treason and between a Throne and a Tombstone!

Greed has always poisoned man's soul, it has made him do acts against his principles, his dignity, his honor and even his life. The hope of a better tomorrow kills us, makes us think we are almost there while we are going away from everything that we hold dear, hope; where gives a man life can snatch the very things he once loved, it's a light far away in a tunnel, you can walk to it as long and as much you want to, you'll always see this light far away from you. And while going towards it, you breath poison at every step you advance - Oxygen. Yes, it gets a man old, makes him forget, forget all the ills he has done while he was a young boy but time remembers everything, it is a never ending log that records everything and when the right time approaches, it confronts you with YOU; the unknown you have been preparing for all this time while you were the only creator of it. Being a king, is knowing how to create the unknown, how to control it, how to confront it and how to make it easy on yourself by the time when you will have no strength in your bones left, the muscles of your heart would be weary and you eyes dim and lifeless, wrinkles would be your only beauty you could claim and when your body trembles and creaks. The air a man breathe can do him this good, it can take him this long but the destiny of man is chosen by himself, his monsters and his allies are his choice.

Life allows you to take different paths; and these paths leads to nowhere but to a man's unknown fear. Very few "kings" can understand this, they know how this game is played, they know how to plot and scheme in the courts, how to manipulate, create and tackle their future selves. A sword needs a bearer and a bearer needs the Right, the Will and the Skill to wield a sword - so, a sword needs less than what a bearer needs. A sword can only then protect a man when the sword's needs are fulfilled otherwise a sword is not any less or any more than an ordinary steel - like an anchor to a ship.

Time; as history knows is the true king, the true conqueror of all men, when it goes by it is felt by none but it has a trick it holds secret, and the trick it does is when it slows down on a man - kills him slow and steady, his cries are useless, his struggles carry no weight, his breathes are deep and cold, almost as if "time" is laughing at him and watching him when he wears his strength out and his heart dries out of blood and turns into a dark mass of rotten flesh. Soon his memories begins to fade away, his words forgotten, his image erased, his life; as if never existed on this God's green earth, what left of him is nothing, it is the only mass on earth that can be destroyed and never created again. Everything ends, the lands, the oceans, the rivers, the beauty, the wars, the darkness, the little moments that a man holds dear. What never ends is the sword that he once wielded! The sword remembers it's bearer, it remembers the lessons learnt on it while he used to practice over it, yes; the sword remembers it's kings, the shields it went through, the skulls it cracked open, the taste of fresh blood and the zeal and courage over the battlefield, it remembers everything. Sharpen his sword for the battlefield a king should, for this is his only memento to tell the world that there lived a king who was the ruler of goodwill, an inventor of his unknown fears and who was not a slave to greed, hate and lived his life running from his unknown, he was a king of kings, the only true bearer of the sword he forged with his very own hands - it's handle made of honor and dignity that connects the man and the sword, it's steel forged with gentleness, kindness and love to take heads of the tyrant and the unloved, it's scabbard; the time and the king - the conqueror of time!

Be that King!

The Spent Hours Looking at YOU!

I really don't know what to write although I want to, I'm just looking at people's blogs and thinking what do they write all day long, all the time. Guess i'll never know, maybe i'm not a writer in a way that can write about the daily ups and downs I go through. So i design my blog, configure it here and there, added a few things and removed some, but it makes no difference in my boredom so i finally decided to write anything in here instead. So i'll just write away whatever's going through my mind right now.

                 I love weekends, i really do; but at time they get heavy on me, there are times that i don't know what to do, what to think or even when to think, this numbness in my head gets me really down. The sunlight coming through my window keeps reminding me that there's a lot yet to do. But what should I do? The question of my life! I like it when i'm on to something, i'm that sticky kinda guy who won't give up until he's through with THAT something, so i prefer challenges but they at times can be hard to find and even regretting at times. Should i fix the generator? Naaahhh! its winters, who needs fans on? nobody? oh well then i guess we're cool on this subject. Should I write something? Well Mr.Einstein you're already WRITING something! I think I should hang out with friends, but no, most of them have papers and some are sick while others gone somewhere, GOD this is so boring at times!

                Last night i was watching some show on BBC, they were showing how the art evolved in America from cubism to abstract, there's this thing about abstract that is so indulging, it's wholly based on emotions and feelings and there's no realism in it, some even went on to draw PLAIN BLACK canvases, now one thinks what can it mean? Why would an artist capable of making some beautiful colorful patterns and emotions draw something as plain as this? A black painted canvas, that was all, nothing more or less to it. It didn't matter why they were black, where they were placed is all that mattered. They were 8 or maybe 9 in number, huge, tall and black. their length was more than their width which were hanged vertically in a church, the church was a "secular" one. So as the host entered it, there was a round hall where all these paintings were hanged, black..just plain black. One could see the brush strokes over the canvas, one could see that the painter wasn't joking, was very much serious about doing this. In  churches there are usually paintings done on the windows and on the walls, paintings of Jesus, Mary or a cross maybe, you got the idea, but here there was nothing at all, the hall was just white and these black, tall canvases staring at you as you enter. There was no focus there, all the paintings were facing each other in a round hall, one could not decide where to look and what to look at when you enter. You could be spinning around in it all day. So why did the artist do it? What was the reason behind this? Well, the black paintings all over the hall were depicting equality, and they were placed in front of each other, which gave an idea of a mirror, meaning that those were actually mirrors not paintings, so one could see into them and see his/her own reflection in them. This really struck me, the thought and the intelligence that went into creating a black painted canvas is just unexplainable, this gave me a notion that its not the painting itself that explains the whole for you, its you who does it. I'm forgetting the name of the painter but he was some serious work! A sharp white line dividing a black painted canvas showed the power of an idea, the light into the dark, i really liked his work. Apart from that his paintings were all drips and splashes, he was known as "Jack the dripper", that should help you guys goggling him! A real piece of work!

                    It has always inspired me, the genius work of people, people who thinks outside the box, who looks at world from a different view, from an extraordinary eye. The paintings no matter how abstract they get, they always mean something, they are the emotions not the faces, the ideas, the real ideas, the sorrow and happiness, chaos and calm. Picasso was the inventor of "cubism", this is the type where figures are drawn and that takes you a step away from "realism" the kind which is real and looks real just like a picture. He once went to some museum where the art was sold in petty cash because it wasn't considered much of an art, it was from all around the world, it had those antique things in it which were not much of a show. he came across one of those "African masks" that were said to be an "anti-magic-and-ghosts" mask. Thats where he got an idea of making figures and discrete faces, pretty imaginative!

                     Any kind of an art is worth looking at because it explains life and the things around us so beautifully and so realistically, the artist actually takes time to draw, write or compose whatever s/he feels about it. If its the dead silent streets or the clapping, laughing, dancing or happy crowd, they all mean something and at times, they can mean a total opposite of what the artist is trying to show us, a dilemma is always there and that is the whole beauty of it, it challenges you to find out the answer yourself. And when you do find it out, things are not the same anymore because you get touched by the artist ho gave it so much time just make you realise the truth of things.
                   
                    Well i hope I didn't got you people bored just like I am at the moment, but the fact is, i really don't know what to write in here, I'll keep you updated with my latest encounters with things like these or with things I think that should be known and pondered upon. Peace.

The Eye of Beloved

I've never seen anything like it before,

Nothing so full of life and joy;

Nothing so beautiful and tempting,

Nothing so promising, so complete,

So soothing and indulging;

Than the view and sounds of nature,

All the art that went into it;

Is so powerful and awesome.

It is like a huge magnet and I’m a tiny piece of metal attached to it –

Helpless and choice less.

I’ll stick to it until I rust and fade away.

It is like a galaxy of stars shinning bright like diamonds –

And right in-between them is the end of the world,

The ultimate truth, the God of me; the black hole of mysteries,

That holds everything intact,

And pulls everything that goes near it.

A Desperate Cry for Love

Where’s the love? Where has it gone? Why are people killing each other? Terrorism - is it done by people wearing suits or is it done by the people with huge ugly beards? Anyway what is the outcome? What are we looking at here when we look at this never ending war? What has it done to an average Joe like you and me, are we gaining anything out of it? We are paying with our lives, and no I am not just talking about Pakistan. The American soldiers have lives, they have families and they are following orders. Who is the mastermind behind all this? Who is killed and by whom, does these questions really matter? Why all this apathy with any religion? I ask just one question and that is that why the hell can’t we live in peace? Why is love on such a long vacation? After when we are done with our prayers, aren't we all just the same? Don’t we feel the same? Have a mother, a father, a brother, a husband, a wife, kids and friends? Where did all this hate come from? Who is planting it in us? We humans have this thing that we love, we don’t hate, we care we don’t look away, how can a beating heart not recognize its fellow? If this is true then why all these wars and famines, all this hatred and no sign of love far far away. Who are you? Have you ever asked you this question? What answer do you get? No matter how far you go, you’re merely a human, made of flesh and blood. You feel pain, anger, sorrow and joy, ahh the joy.. the joy of being with friends and laughing out your time, being with your family and those cherishing moments. Is war going to give you this joy? Will pain do? We above everything and anything have lost humanity in the way somewhere, we pass by a poor person and nothing happens to us, we see wars and nothing happens, we see nations being destroyed and nothing happens, we see people vanish and nothing happens. We have turned into machines, machines don’t think, they don’t have emotions, they follow and obey their programmers. Think about it, who’s programming us? Who’s controlling our strings? Making us dance while we cry inside, huh! And then you say we are a free nation, any nation that goes left while it wants to go right is NOT free! And this goes for the whole world, there’s no such thing as free nations, isn't it too obvious? Don’t you see it? There are top notch people in every nation and they are all friends with each other, and then look at us, if you've seen the “predator”, that will make it easier for me to make you show, well we are their game. They decide our paths we are like the white test mice that scientists carry out their tests on. And then we kill each other and hate each other because that’s what they don’t want, no they don’t want love within us, that’s bad, very bad. Because then we’ll not be fighting each other and turn our fucking sleepy heads towards them. And you know damn well who’s them, there’s always a “them” in every so called “free” country. While we cry, they laugh, while we die of hunger, they eat our flesh. We will wake up to it, but it’s going to be too late. People like John Lennon, Malcolm X, Che Guevara and Gandhi spent their whole lives teaching idiots like us what love is and what do we do to them? Yeah! – That.

                          Think about it, what are you? A consumer? Or an investor? A consumer of all the hate that we are fed all day every day or an investor of love to this world? Questions are good, but we don’t ask them anymore, our schools have been manipulated to an extent that it has captivated the questioning mind into a slave; all it knows now is 1 and 0, yes – just like a computer program, a TV channel that they can switch anytime they don’t us speaking at them. We have lost  taste of good music, we have lost our dignity, we have lost our traditions, our culture and all we see is people killing people, shows like “Spartacus” and “Breaking Bad”, I wonder where did shows like “Mind your language” and “X-files” etc went. Its right in front of your eyes, your being in contact with it every day, every time and anywhere, they are feeding us crap and we don’t mind it anymore, then stop complaining about the teen pregnancies and the rape rates, the murders and robberies and school shootings and what not, this is a gutter, a filth which we cry about every time and never plan to clean it up. The only way to clean it up is get cleaned yourself, there’s no need to carpet they whole world, wearing shoes would do.

                    In the end, we are all the same, we are all just the same. we are humans, while we breath; we are Alexander, Hitler, Newton, Da Vinci, Nostro Damis, Gandhi, John Lennon, King Henry and Mother Teresa, Tipu Sultan and Mir Jaffer, Allama Iqbal and Sir Syed Ahmad Khan, we are the inventors, the innovators, the explorers, the murderers and the saviours, the loyal and the traitors, peace makers and war declarers, we are good and we are the bad. one thing is certain, we hold it inside ourselves, if it's love or it's hate, it both lives within us, it all comes down to what we feed the most.. 

                    History is a window into the future. A heart loves; its soft inside, it feels another beating heart… it always does. Let’s strip it off from it’s uniform that is being worn over it and find out the beating heart’s love for humanity. Let’s stop being cannon fodder against each other. Peace!

Nicotine

Its not another of those moments which i pass alone,
No its none of those in which boredom is worn.
Emerging out of the red embers into the lonely cold night,
She dances and waves at me,
Like a thought uncaught, like a flash of light,
She vanishes!
Gives me quiet a show for a while before she says goodbye.
I cant resist but see her dance to me again,
So i sing my song to the already red embers and there she comes again,
Dancing and asking me if i had missed her enough.
Like a soul into a body; i inhale her,
Make her touch my heart that beats with the rhythm of the song she sings to it.
And when she gets heavy on me, she takes me to her land,
Shows me her people, makes promises with me that only God would with a man.
Plays a violin in my heart - her this attitude,
My heart turns into a thousand strings of which she's the player,
Of which she's the only player!

Adrenaline

Jumping off a high cliff, a mountain, a tall building,
Racing in a busy road, fighting a war with bullets flying above your head,
The first kiss of your love, smoking hash, running towards a door never opened yet,
The moment when you know the unknown, see the unseen, touch the untouched,
Felt the unfelt, gasping heavy after missing a single breath, the very breath,
That keeps your lie a secret, the bridge between you and the afterlife,
You wont miss it because you're not done with life yet,
Alot of unfinished business, alot of achievements to go through and when you do
achieve them - another adrenaline!
This is all that you and I live for!
Finding out ways to race the heart.
It is a machine,
Fueled with craziness,
Runs of life,
Charged with it's obsession to beat itself ....to Death.

You Poor Creatures!

What do you know what I see,
what I see in what you call isolation and darkness and sickness and what not!
You'll never know what i see in this continuum state of mine - my world, the spirals,
the beautiful light in the dark, the music i see, the abyss of amazingness,
the water dripping from the end of the mountain into a lake, the gears of machines rattling against each other, the open wide sky and the plain white doves, the beauty of the eyes and the mazes of hair,
the sweet fragrance of wood and ink, all the promises she makes to me.
You pay for all these wonderful moments and things while I give myself to me and yet you miss a lot.
If only you'd find your world, you'll know what I mean, till then - just ignore what I say, yes I'm mad,
I'm a psycho, YES I need medical attention. You'll never know that my "isolation" and "darkness" is like you're most happiest moment lived every breath i take.
Tsk tsk tsk, you poor, poor creatures!

An Overview

Is it the money?, the house we live in?, the status we have?, the way we look at the world or the people living in it?, is it the love and affection we have for one another?, is the seconds drifting by?, the seasons strolling?, the sun rising up after the moon or the moon after the sun?, is it the religion or the endless cries of the poor being tortured and murdered or the rich sucking up on the blood of the tortured? What is it? – Life; by itself is taking breaths but there is more to it – much more. An endless cycle of feelings and desires that can never be fulfilled, not unless we are alive, not unless we keep fulfilling these petty desires. It will keep rotating and rotating, an unstoppable cycle of events unfolding – some desirable, some not. Often comes a point in my life that I don’t know what to do or what to think, I am simply “blank” at these moments, thinking what should I do best to kill the already dying time, like many others – I am also a holder of desires, petty maybe, unachievable, but it still shines my heart and makes me live on this endless cycle. We humans are stupid in thinking that by achieving something our hearts will be at rest and will hold no more desires; but it always does. We thrive and turn ourselves into dust for it with the name we are given with from our childhood not knowing that the very name will someday shine in the bright sunlight on our tombstone of a grave six feet under where it really belongs. What is it going to be in there? How is it going to feel? It is a path unknown to man, a journey he does not wants to take because of the fear of the unknown, and a journey from where no man has ever returned to tell the tale. Death really is a puzzle though; it answers a lot of questions and leaves a lot of answers to questions we are unaware of. Yet another desire of mankind – to travel the journey and come back from it to share the experience with his fellow men, the sense of association never leaves us, we always want to impress people, want to show them what we are capable of and to what heights we can reach ultimately forgetting to be our own selves just for once and ponder upon the questions to which the answers lies within ourselves. Once those answers are found, we shall be satisfied with our lives; yet again, I think that is why we really don’t want to have a look at those answers and rather be fooled and taken away with this circus and a freak show all around us. Indeed we are fools calling each other different names.

Here We Go

Kicking off my blog. Been made from quiet a while but i was maybe waiting for the right time to start putting things into it. Hope it takes you out into an imaginative journey to my world. Welcome.