:;'",?.<>/

The sand-dusts fly around making me blind. I just can't open my eyes.I am prespiring, I am frustrated, vague outlines of figures that doesn't make any sense swirl by my half open eyes. The dusts start to settle down but the sun beats down on my oily head making it ache. I don't care. No matter what- I know what I am here for. I open my eyes fully, put on a very low stance and Kick off. I feel men brushing my side, I hurl them out of my way. The sand below me starts to slip without warning. The naked foot complains to me of the heat. The shirt i am wearing has become transclucent. Nothing is clear before my eyes but I know that I couldn't possibly make a mistake.

I hear girlish giggles all around me. I don't care whether i am making a fool of myself. I am almost there. Any minute the destiny will be decided. I shut my eyes tight with determination and jump with my arms raised wide... as wide as an eagle could ever dream of. I feel wind flowing through my shirt and caressing my chests with speed taht I had never imagined. The pain I had felt for so long ceases to exist. Something has terribly gone wrong. i should have reached where I supposed I would. My eyelids tell me of an unspoken danger. There is no more heat and I open my eyes with diffidence. Death stares before me. A mile below lies an innocent river. The gorge I witness on the either side is spellbounding. White crystal walls stand guarding shiny water below. My head is caught off balance and I twirl but my neck hasn't broken. The distance that lies between me and Death reduces like a lightning. I will never see anyone else in my life. This majestic sight tries to console me but something is stuck inside my heart.This is the end. End of the thing called me.

A chilly shiver passes through my torso.This has to be a dream cause i am still me. I open my eyes hoping to see my mother standing before me but there is only darkness to be seen. I close and open it but to no avail. Fear grips me like nothing before. I would rather choose death than this. I can't make a step forward. I know that I still have a body. My vocal chord has stoped responding. Somewhere far, wherever far is, I feel life. I don't know why. I have been seeing too much of horror films lately. I promise not to see any of those when I wake up. Well, if the creature that is going to attack me is like those in 'JasonX' and all, I am afraid I would laugh my stocks out. I try to take this as a joke and I am succeeding. i have nothing to lose. I make each step with increasing confidence. There is no echo adding an eerie aura to it.
'I have to defeat him'. Where did that come from? I feel myself taken away. Light embraces my existence. My heart goes as cold as it had never ever had. A trillion chants, taunts, shouts, songs rip my ears. I can't open my eyes again. I had seen 'Gladiator' only a week ago. Well, if I am a hero for this gigantic imaginary audience then I am not going to disappoint them. I open my eyes the way Keanu Reeves does in Matrix. The grip on the sword tightens. There is no fear in my eyes and heart. I am not taken aback by the sight of the colloseum, a marvel by men. There is no men for me to fight and I don't see any king. I don't know whether I can use English language. Confident thuds echo fom my back. I am not turnng to look at the identity of my opponent. I take the sword as high as I can with both hands in one breath and turn behind in an almost-slowmotion style.
A familiar language is heard somewhere. There is no opponent, no colloseum.
"Commander, what should we do?" 1000 birds circle the skies attacking each other.
No, no this can't be World WarII. We haven't finished the chapter yet in our school.
"Commander?"
"Yes" I say mockingly.
"Hitlers's forces are almost here"
I should be a British, then.
"Has the french arrived?"
"Sir, they are only miles away" The sounds of muffled voice come from an old walky talky set.
Hey was that invented yet. I am growing tired of this. Why doesn't anyone wake me up?
The guy keeps on yelling at me. I don't care if the history is recreated.
A change of scene again. The clicks of curiosity reach my ears. I have my eyes opened. Something is moving at regular intervals inside a rectangular block. I just don't whether I am the one who is doing it. Somebody pushes me out of the thing I am sitting on.
"No, no I will never give you the PC. Not even if I die"
A rough person beside me raises his hands. Fear grips me as it had never done before. Will I be ever able to publish this?

STOP or NON-STOP?

Well, its been sometime, huh. Life takes me on its twists and turns........................The truth is, well I can't stand this anymore. I am tired of writing this imaginesomething or wateva! I knew that it was a matter of time before I would start thinking of dumping this whole plan into the wastebasket. this maybe my last blog.Well, maybe. I have only thought of this as a place where I could dump my thoughts so that years later I can just find out what all I had thought. But folks, let me get this straight- I started this without the fear of expressing what I thought but now [even though I don't have correspondence( who cares about that, by the by):D] I am trying to imitate, be stylish, let other people......yeah, you know what I am gonna say.

As a fifteen year old (within a month)(fifteen.. its seems quite a big age) I can always be discouraged by this lack of correspondence. No, don't think that I am pleading for correspondents. Don't think that I wrote the previous sentence to hide the fact that I want correspondents. WON'T THE WORLD EVER CHANGE!! Anyway, as I was saying, -----I am not.

Writing these diary entry sorta thing is starting to look childish.Even when I read those the second time it appears to me as if it is......sucking?nah, that word may have other implications. Well, who cares about a word anyway. Wodehouse does, I s'pose but I am not him.

A week ago, I came by one of my brother's friends ( well I don't know if he/she is his friend) blog. I was quite amused by it. There, I saw that the person had taken great pains to write an article that would make the public laugh. Well, I was amused, you see, not because the content was full of nitrous oxide but the pains the person had taken was quite........pathetic?(I suppose, I get the idea coneveyed). This font ahs changed, I dont know why. Anyway, I have only one thing to tell him/her. It is clear that she/he has...... I am not interested anymore in writing that.

I gotta finish my social project ( don't ever think that you have passed all these stages or that I am fussing over such a small thing), Record(biology, chemistry and physics). Well, I tried my best to be at home tommorow morn but you see life's not always a grand sweet song. I have to be more optimistic. You see, you can never take away the fact that going to school isn't an entertaining affair. By the by, Sourav Chandidas Ganguly is notout on 0 off 2 balls ( and thats for you, I knew you would read this)

How to write a perfect essay, Gals,Sourav's end of road and supposed facts and experiences.

AS on 14/12/05
I just hate......I mean I just hate to lean back on my chair and ponder over this as if this is gonna make a lot of difference in the world and to shake my head as if I am an expert in doing this and to take in the mucus which is not there to make myself feel cool and then to put my hands upon the keyboard and write about all the woes i have experienced and am to experience in this world. For once let me stop that. They say that for a perfect essay there has to be an introduction which when the readers read they don't feel strained. No, I am not meaning that this is one of them. What happens if I put the middle part here. What have i to say? Yeah, I really hope none reads this. Gals..... No my cheek doesn't go red at the thought. Its a reality that I don't want to hide and I don't have prob with people believing that I am a kozhi because that is the truth. Gosh, I never thought that I would have this much guts. Ya, I know this is only a small thing.Anybays, my studies are n't actually distracted but it is my favourite pastime. I have been studying in a boys' class for 2 yrs now, yet I like it more than a mixed class. To go deeper into the subject would mean other relevations too so lets take a step back and let the mind drift to other things................................................................(just drifting). The next point is the dropping of Ganguly. Seven men (five selectors, captain and coach), four walls, 20 minutes, one topic. And then the proverbial bells tolled for Sourav Ganguly. No, I am not anymore of that lot who are frustrated due to his sacking. I am a great fan of his style and will remain to be even after his days. Well, I don't rule him out..It's Ganguly that we are talking about.---A comeback is inevitable--I believe or try to.......
Change takes place in man second by second. With every ticking of the clock you asssume that you become more mature or ugly. The fact is change does take place but you don't notice it. i mean, take me for an example--who in the world would have expected me to become a movie buff within a span of 1 month or that I became an unbelievable kozhi in a years time. I suppose t0 the main reason behind writing diary entries is t know how much you changed. I can still clealry recall the moment I had stood in the sitout leaning onto the pillar and looking at the crimson dusk which is rarely seen.Exactly a year has passed after that but I often recall the thoughts that I had then. It was on eve of closing of christmas vacations and I was consoling myself with the thought that I could even have a better time during the........blah blah( sometime later, I s'pose).
Anyway, my eyes are drooping and i feel the fatigue of having studied 10 hrs straight(yesterday). Its 11 in the night and its a cool dark night right here in Palkulangara, Pettah P.O. I have gotta get up early tomorrow to have a brief look at the notes.
But I have to do this before unplugging my nervous system. As the experts say, I am to conclude what I have written. Our english teacher says that a conclusion in diary entries and that sort should end in a hopeful note and in articles- summary of what you have written.-How to write a perfect essay, Gals,Sourav's end of road and supposed facts and experiences. Anybays on a hopeful note--Good night.

An elaaaaaaaaaaaboration

"I can still clearly recall the moment I had stood in the sitout leaning onto the pillar and looking at the crimson dusk which is rarely seen.Exactly a year has passed after that but I often recall the thoughts that I had then. It was on eve of closing of christmas vacations and I was consoling myself with the thought that I could even have a better time during the........blah blah( sometime later, I s'pose)."

I would have done this after the exams but as I have a lot of free time now, I am setting upon this venture. The sole reason why I would have done this on the wrapping up of the exams is that it would add a nostalgic tinge to it.
"Exactly a year has passed after that"- That's why. The fact is you seem to recall that incident clearly because you know what all went through your mind at that spur of a second. I can distinctly recall that I had been quite sad as the christmas vacation drew to a close and that I would have to return to my old routines. Then I thought what my ma told me--"After two months the summer is going to arrive. So buck up". I was foolish enough to remember that. Now, the summer has passed, Onam has passed and here we are back to square one.
I suppose you tend to remember these incidents just like yesterday as you haven't changed much. My thought process was same exactly a year before and today. I mean, you don't remember what you did when you were a toddler as your way of thinking has changed. To elaborate, I may feel shameful when I read this a ten years from now as I would have changed then. So, I s'pose a man who doesn't change all his life can recollect things with utmost precision.
(Correct me if I am wrong)
The next point is time rolls. Some fool had once said "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may"
('Fool' because who would think of wasting precious time by gathering rosebuds. As if every human has a instinctive liking to gather rosebuds). Anyway, the point is enjoy while you can. In reality I am not enjoying this moment as I've got lots to study for tomorrow's exam and haven't had a nice nap for sometime.
i have said this much to elaborate upon the fact that a year has passed without my notice. A year is going to pass without my notice and my life is gonna come to an end without my notice. So, it is imperative that rather than hearing the clock tick, one should......do anything else enjoyable(Of course, for those who get enjoyment by hearing the clock tick can continue to do so). But at the same time--i said something 'enjoyable'. For me studying isn't enjoyable and hearing the clock tick isn't enjoyable. But in the end, sometimes you can't get everything you want b'cause I can't think of not studying today as it would have disastrous impacts on me.
So I guess the fool who wrote "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may" was after all right. I mean this moment is not meant for gathering the stuff. But tomorrow is meant for gathering those buds and you bet, I would a mountain of them.re

Match

Man, really the games I had at Medical college were superb in the sense that it made me realise that I am a nobody in cricket. One is often fooled by the flatteries. Mate, as fate would have it, I am also a victim. Let me introduce to the ocassion- After the 8th standard exams we were to have friendly matches at the Medical college ground.
black shirt, black pants at about 11 in the morning (You can imagine my condition). The sun was beating down hard. My team was to have bowling first. I was always considered a batsmen in our local area. I was welcomed into the arena with a boundary. The point is that i took a wicket with my medium fast. Coming to the batting part.
You must imagine that it was after a tiresome bit of bowling and fielding that I had come to the crease. The first bowl I faced was the best part. i saw Roshin bounding upto me. I was concentrating hard. He took a leap at the popping crease and then something went horribly wrong. i didn't quite understand what happened but all that I felt was an unexpressable pain in the You-know-where. With the Black-tight-shirt and black pants, I saw seven heavens. I was advised to retire and accepted it without delay. I came back for batting with equation thus-- some 19 runs from17 balls. I had seen enough of Roshin to know that he was near-unfaceable. in my mind the strategy read thus- survive Roshin, the rest lies with luck. I was quite successful in that I was able to survive Roshin's pacers (was even able to take 3 runs in that over). Then came the supposed-spin from Hareesh. I could see the ball clearly as it took ages to reach me. I hit 2 fours in that over along with a couple. i had got all those runs with versions of the pull, somebody provocated me from behind saying I can't hit even one on the offside. The next ball was as easy as the others. I took some room and played it onto the hands of silly-midoff.
Silly.... Got to sleep......

Before tuition

My father had once told me to enjoy that moment as it would never return. It is true, I sometimes feel that I could have done certain things better if I were given a second chance. There is stillness all around me. When I raise my head all that I can see is a white cover. I feel....artificial. It shouldn't have been like this. My thoughts drift with the caressing wind that breaks the silence of the leaves. I know I am too young to retrospect on my life but I find myself thinking about all those joyous occassions. It is as if I will never be happy again. I know that even this moment is not to return and years later I may think about all the things that I thought with a smile on my face. I may even rue the fact that I had written it out. I can feel that somewhere around a drop has fallen from the sea above. I know that soon I will hear a shout from below but the time between them is all that I live for. Nothing stirs, I mean nothing at all. I always wanted to express the coldness I experience now to the world outside. Many things in man change but I know that that want will never fade with time. I was always afraid whether the world would accept me, make fun of me but the realisation has come that I write to express my views. There is life around me, the thuds break the silence. Yet nothing else seems to live. All the leaves and trees stand as if time has stopped moving. The peace that I have been experiencing has broken with the silvery drizzles. I wait anxiously for the sun to peep through the clouds that are fading from the farthest horizon. I am to go English tution within half an hours time. I haven't done my homework. I haven't done my assignment. the moment I descend the steps I will have to run havoc. The thought makes my mind writhe in pain. The nature looks majestic as if wanting to make me stand for some more time. I am drenched but I feel satisfied for some reason. It might be because I have expressed my thoughts or I don't know.

Nothing

I ain't gonna write to write. When I write, I am gonna mean what I say and not just to exhibit that I can write. I have never understood the purpose of blogging. I never knew or don't know why people blog. But then I don't know why I have started this. I suppose it might be because my brother does or else it might be because I like men telling me "Gosh! you can write".
Anyway, I don't think this a bad step because I know that oneway or the other I am gonna benefit from this. This is not my first venture in blogging, there was one unsuccessful period last year when I misunderstood blogger.com to be an online magazine.
But still the only question that haunts me is 'what am i gonna write?'. When i publish this, I will have to start all over again. I want and always wanted all my moves to be successful. Failure is and was something that I hated. There is no subject that I am exceptionally good at. If I start writing about 'the sun, the moon and the stars' it will be rather like a pathetic young boy trying to impress everyone with his un-circumstantic pieces of decorative writing. But i suppose, you have to do what you are good at. The underlining is I won't write to write.