Diary of the First Knight

Just wanted to jot down something from the void. Yup, it just feels like a void, empty; like all the feelings, emotions, worries, troubles are on a different plane of existence and I have no idea how to feel them. It’s like playing an open world RPG from the time I was a kid. I get to do whatever I wish without a slightest care about what is going to be the result. It’s like living through a haze. A haze that gradually seperates me from what’s real and what’s not.

I act childish. I know that. I try to be as immature as I can because I am afraid what I’d do if the mature me comes out, as it does several times. I look at others and feel pity for how insigkificant their minds are. It makes me feel like an abnormality. I don’t know why I am ahle to overlook all the different facades a person puts on, and get to the real, week thing hiding behind them. It can be said the summit of being arrogant. 

All the times a person gives in to the different kinds of emotion inside, I feel pity for them. For how how week they are. It might mean that I am a monster who doesn’t feel. I just… can’t comorehend the idea of living without thinking. And whenever I think, I have complete control over what I do. That’s why when others fail to rrstrain themselves and give into the boiling cauldron of foolishness I just… I am just forced to think what is wrong with me.

Am I too mature? Do I think too much? Have I become emotionless? Or is it simply my arrogance speaking? I would dearly like to believe the last one. But I know it’s not true.

I know I am evil. I am the worst kind that exists. Not because I am negative. It is because I simply don’t feel. This makes me try harder and harder to fight myself. I keep on acting like a child. Makng trouble for me and others. Making people laugh. Giving them something to laugh at. If I can’t feel it, I try to make others feel the way I can’t. 
I don’t know what I blabbered right now. But that’s just what I am.

From the diary of The First Knight. 

 This is an excerpt from Akshat’s personal journal, dating back to the early days of the Elemental Wars. People use to say he spread life wherever he went. This just proves that he made others have what he couldn’t have. 

I am a Zombie, or am I? 

What is Maturity? I mean, what does it mean to be Mature?  How can one decide the extent to which one’s emotional, mental and social traits are experienced enough to be called Mature? 

Well, let us do one simple task. Close your eyes, remember the last time you had a fight with someone. Remember the reason for which you fought. Now, ask yourself one question, could it have been different if you didn’t act the way you acted? Keep the answer to yourself.

The Maturity of any person is said to be found out under stress. Personally, I think it isn’t maturity that shows itself during periods of stress. It’s tolerance. . It sure does form a part of one’s overall Maturity, but that’s not all there is to it.

The best way to find out soneone’s maturity is to observe how much time of their day do they spend happy. It’s quite simple, If someone can stay happy all the time, then it means that they are Mature enough to conquer the obstacles put in their life. The more a person is happy, the greater is the depth of that happines, greater the person is Mature.

Now, Shoving all the philosophical crap aside, pick a fight with someone. If you get angry and flame up in a fit of heat & rage, then it is most likely that you are far away from being mature.

These things apply to only ‘normal’ human beings. I don’t have the luxury to feel anger or sorrow. When I shout at someone, I know exactly what should I do and what are the consequences of each word I say. I have to force myself to act against the analytical reports that my brain recieves with each word coming out of my mouth. When I hear a bad news, it pains me. But my mind instantaneously starts planning a way around the event that has caused me sorrow. I don’t fret, don’t argue, don’t whine and don’t cry (unless I go against my own mind to forcefully do so). 

I am not capble of feeling human emotions as well as others do. Perhaps I am a cripple, perhaps it’s my imagination, but the words like ‘heartless’ and ‘emotionless’ are made for me, I think.

It makes me good at dealing with sentiments because I can analyse them as good as anyone out there, perhaps better, from outside the loop. I don’t get involved, I don’t hate, I don’t crave, I don’t love, I don’t fret, I just get bored.

That also is a kind of maturity. I am a loudmouth and I shamelessly say that I am much more Mature than any person my age. 
But what does this article has to do with it? It’s simply an outlet for me. All the crappy sentiments I can’t feel, I let it out here. Perhaps I am a Zombie, perhaps I am  not a whole human. Looks like I can’t find out the truth until I die and rise again, can I?   😉

Why do I write?

That’s the first question I’ve ever heard from everyone whom I told that I write. I am a Mechanical Engineering student, and my attempts at going all out at writing have caused me a lot of trouble. (Still causing) According to people, since I have chosen to be an engineering student, I must spend my pastime in stuff like fixing bikes or setting up pulley systems. A lot of them look at me from top to bottom and ask “Huh, another Chetan Bhagat wannabe? Kid, get a little serious in your life. Don’t throw your time away like that.”

That’s the average response I get from people. At first I tried to show people what I’d written. They’d take a look at the pages, toss it aside and tell me to “Go Study”. No matter how hard I tried I was unable to convince people that I like writing as much as I like engineering. These are the times where technology and literature are considered to be mutually exclusive. So like other failed writers without an audience, I decided to quit.

Don’t tell me that was weak of me. I dare you to go for JEE and do creative writing at the same time. It isn’t possible. I had quit writing but there was a big gap in my time. Imagine a big patch of scabs on your arm with ants crawling all over it. That’s how the itch to write feels. I had urges, I had emotional highs and lows, and I had nightmares about engineering. Then one day, MIRACLE! I read about blogging somewhere and gave it a try.

It was perfect. Know I had the chance to show off my writing, my imagination, my creativity to all who care and who don’t. But, among all these things, I still haven’t come to my point. Why do I write?

That is a lot personal for me. Everyone has some sort of emotional outlet built in their system. Some people have boyfriends/girlfriends, few have friends, few have family and few let their emotions rot inside them. For me, writing is the expressway through which I clear out all excessive emotions present inside me. It works like an overflow system in a water tank and helps in balancing my inner turmoil out.

That’s why I write. I know my writing isn’t superb or excellent. Yet I compare myself with the best of them. Because I have the will, need and passion to write

.

Sneak peek into the Last Army

Let me give you a sneak peek into the Last Army.

Man is hollow,
Life is a shell,
Don’t you dare say,
that All is Well.

-the Prophet Joshua

3017, The arrival

Joshua was hiding beneath the rubble. He was holding his breath, body tensed for the moment they discover him. It was his ill luck to fall asleep in a basement while foraging. Fires from the last battle were still hot when he had risked himself to get a fortune of weapons and armor; and now he was trapped. It was one of the bigger battles he had seen in his 473 years. A god and a very dillapilated group of defenders had assembled to waylay a contingent of foot, to find themselves trapped within two flanks of cavalry. The battle was short & brutal. Not even a single one of the defenders had been able to escape. And when they killed the god, even a mere mortal like him had been able to feel it from miles away & he had immediately departed to arrive at the massacre scene as soon as possible.

But a box full of canned food had found its way into hia hands and he didn’t try to save for later. So he ate and ate, and finally settled into the basement to sleep. But when he woke up, he discovered that an even larger army of darklings was camped over him, and the basement was right beneath the command centre.

He heard the footsteps recede as a voice called out. “All clear. Bring him in.” Joshua sagged with relief at these words and thanked the gods; if any of them was left.

He stiffened at the sound of more feet and a raspy voice called out “Good Evening, lord. I see that you have….” The voice was interrupted with a bang of flesh on wood. A heavy male voice called out “Don’t try my patience, slave. Tell me why have you abandoned your post, and begone.” His words were followed by silence and Joshua heard someone shuffle. “As you wish, Lord. Their army is divided into 6 legions and the fourth is about to appear in the mortal realm within the hour, at exactly where we are. I took the liberty of making them believe that no more than 5000 darklings are stationed here. They will find a surprise when they arri…” This time the voice was interrupted by a swish, a thud, a swish, bang and a groan. Then silence.

Seconds passed by. Then the heavy male voice called out, with a definite hint of fear. “W-who a-are you? ” A swish and a thunk sounded and a voice called out. “I am Akshat, scout of the 47th legion.” It paused then continued “Remember this Joshua,” Joshua became still as a rock. “We are thousands, and when you will look at what happened up here, do not forget that I was only one. Hope is not yet lost. the Last Army survives” Then there were sounds of receding footsteps. How had that person known Joshua was beneath the floor? And what had he done to the others? Joshua was just thinking about creeping out for a look when he saw & heard; rather felt the biggest explosion he had seen in his life. Of pure Golden light, it made the earth shake like a thresher and Joshua thought of only one thing before the rubble hit him on his head. Akshat was not someone to mess with.

Stories about the prophet had many beginings. Most of them are quite close to the truth. The Prophet Joshua emmerged from the ground with blood smeared on his face and saw around him in every direction he could see – heaps and heaps of dead bodies; darkling bodies. He remembered even then, “The Last Army survives.”

The Legacy of Kalki Vol. 1 – The Last Army

The Last Army

Hello to all the readers of the great world of Science Fiction & Fantasy. I have a good news to share and I am (almost) sure you are going to like it as well.

When the current, fully edited draft of The Legacy of Kalki crossed the (holy) mammoth number of 500000 words, I decided to split it among a few volumes. The initial plan was to publish 3 volumes with each relating to 4 parts of Kalki’s soul. But now I plan on releasing 3 volumes with 3 parts of Kalki’s soul in each and 3 short novellas which would narrate the other 3 parts from a different person’s POV (Yet to be disclosed).

I am planning to bring in the novellas between the major volumes with a parallel timeline (A brilliant suggestion by one of my beta readers) & to give them away for free to whoever will buy the previous volume.

The Last Army

Coming to title of my first volume, I can give you all a sneak peek into the story.

The Mortal Realm has become a battlefield for the Gods & pawns of Chaos while the Earth crawls with horrendous creatures born of true evil. Mankind is on the verge of World War 3 and humans are simple “cannon fodder” for the superior powers busy in their war. Everyone awaits the good guys to make things right but they have vanished without a trace and everything seems lost…

Lost in the ashes,
In a world that dies,
From the depths of the blue,
The first of them rise.

Doomed to be dead,
Everyone of them thrives,
Facing annihilation,
The Last Army arrives.

ब्लॉगिंग का बिहारी अंदाज़ – The Bihari way of Blogging

A crazy thing – petty nonsense turned into a post.

The Raw Bihari

किस्सा कुछ ऐसा हुआ कि शाम होते ही बारिश आ गई। गर्मी से छुटकारा तो मिला, पर मेरे गाँव के ‘जनेटर’ वाले के तारों में वो बात कहाँ जो हवा के थपेड़ों को झेल सके! बस… लटक गयी हमारे घर की रोशनी। अब ससुरा बिजली भी ऐसे मौकों पर धोखा देने से तो चूकती नहीं। तो मेरे इस अपरिपक्व बिहारी दिमाग को यही तरीका सूझा कीबोर्ड पर ऊँगलियों को नचता हुआ देख सकने का :-

image

नाऊ आई कैन टाइप एण्ड कीप एन आई ऑन थिंग्स। देयर इज़ नो सैटिसफ़ैक्शन इन टाइपिंग विदाउट सीइंग द मैजिक ऑफ़ माय फ़िंगर्स विद माय ओन आइज़।

; -)

PS. राजनीति वाले लोगों को पहले ही क्लियर कर दें – आई डोन्ट सपोर्ट RJD

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Sheila’s Slumber – Sailor Saga

Something slithered silently. Sheila sat suddenly since she saw someone sneaking. She spotted sails, stretched since sun-up. Something spooked Sheila since she saw sails shoved slowly. She shivered, standing stupified. She saw shadows shimmering, surrounding Sheila. Someone spoke softly “Sheila…”. She staggered, slamming someone’s shin. She screamed, scaring someone special. Suddenly, Sam stiffened, slightly sleepy. […]

Bhagatai (भगतई) – Rural Indian Sorcery

Sorcery

Sorcery is an art of souls, magic, devotion and power. You can find no distinct definition of the word ‘sorcerer’ which shall be accepted worldwide. But despite of the various ways of defining it, sorcery is generally considered a negative aspect of magic. You might know it to be the polar opposite of Wizardry or it might be a different word to define the same thing – magic for you.

What is a Sorcerer?

Do me a favor and close your eyes. (Actually… Close them after reading the whole thing, or how would you be able to read?   😉 ) Imagine that you visit a village in Bihar, India. The streets are deserted, the houses are quiet and a shrowd of stillness engulfs the village. You move forwards, hoping to meet someone but find not a single soul in sight. Then you catch a movement in your peripheral vision and jerk to look at it. You see a bright piece of clothing just beyond the corner and instinctively move forward to look at it. After a couple of steps you stagger to a stop. Finally you discover the people of the village. Every single one of them is there in the village square. You move towards them as you notice every single person present is rock-still, holding his/her breath. You look for a vantage point and perch on a bullock-cart. Now the whole scene lies before your eyes. The whole populace is surrounding the village suquare, where an old man sways squatted on a mat. He is engulfed by incense, & platters of food and delicacies are laid out before him.

Suddenly his swaying stops and the old man goes rigid. He stays frozen for a moment then turns abruptly – to stare you straight in your eyes. You go still, trying but unable to escape the old man’s gaze. Then the most freakish/amazing thing happens. The mans speaks your grandfather’s name. And says to you. “Welcome, grandson of ……….”

 

 

That my friends, is sorcery. Pure and absolute. The art still thrives in the rural areas of India like Bihar, Odisha & Jharkhand; and is widely renown. Basically the sorcerer invites a spirit to reside in his/her body for a period of time and enjoy material pleasure like food. The spirit grants the sorcerer knowledge in exchange of the few moments of enjoying life. The sorcerer meanwhile answers questions and solves people’s problem with the knowledge gifted by the spirit.

How does Sorcery work?

1) For a thing like sorcery to work, the first requirement is a crowd of people. The ‘spirit’ doesn’t visit the sorcerer (भगता – Bhagata in Hindi) unless there is a sufficient audience.

2) The sorcerer sits on ground with all the food & incense around him and closes his eyes to meditate. Then there comes a moment when he goes into a trance and starts to sway, shake & wobble. When the trance fades and the sorcerer opens his eyes, they become the eyes of the spirit.

3) After talking with such a sorcerer ‘Bhagata’ in person, I asked him the secret behind it. He smiled and replied that there wasn’t one. He just makes his mind & body ready to accept the spirit and the spirit arrives. According to him, it was like swimming with closed eyes. You swim and swim, and suddenly BAM! The opposite shore is there & the spirit is ready to ‘move in’.

4) The incense & crowded surroundings helps the sorcerer to ‘reach out’ and contact the spirit. When the spirit inhibits his body, the sorcerer only remembers a partial consciousness.

5) When the spirit has finally arrived, music is played in a steady rythm. The sorcerers claim it to help the spirit ‘attune’ to the alien body.

6) Sorcery is a talent of blood. It can’t be learned unless you are born with it.

What are the uses of Sorcery?

The most prominent use of sorcery is curing diseases. It may be noted that most incidents of sorcery are recorded in rural areas of incidents.

1) The act of Sorcery ‘Bhagatai’ is often celebrated as a minor festival. A ‘Bhagata’ is usually related to a particular cast and only they participate in the gatherings. They ask the spirit the solutions of their day to day problems, cures of diseases which they can’t afford to get treated by a doctor and such minor things.

2) A sorcerer is also a holy thing for the people and they seek blessings for family and friends. He is considered a thing of marvel since there are claims that the spirit which visits a sorcerer is the essence of their God.

3) The act of sorcery is also a thing of entertainment for the people. The sorcerer performs various tricks to entertain the people such as eating fire or holding embers.

4) Then there are negative aspects too. Some Sorcerers claim to cause harm to others for money. They call upon malignant spirits which can cause a subtle, gradual and substantial harm to a specific person of family. It appears as bad health, ill luck, accidents and other seemingly natural phenomena.

 

Sorcery – Real or Fraud?

Just like other supernatural activities, sorcery is also considered a trick of eyes or some detailed play or act. Our science doesn’t allow anything not natural to exist and hence sorcery is often under suspicion.

Real

1) Sorcerers perform acts like holding glowing pieces of coals, and it doesn’t harm them. I am not talking about momentarily holding and then throwing it but holding them for extended periods of time like half an hour.

2) There are many incidents where patients actually get better after being blessed by a Sorcerer. Whether it is purely psychological or the blessings really work, can’t be decided. It is a fact no one can ignore.

3) Sorcerers tend to know much more than their ‘inert’ forms. When a spirit inhibits them, they simply know the names of strangers come to see them, or ancestors of the people around them. This is a fact not to be taken lightly. Sorcerers aren’t vagabonds roaming around gathering information about patients. They are day to day farmers and labors who act as a vessel to the spirit.

The extraordinary knowledge gained by the Sorcerers cannot be ignored.

Fraud

1) Every single act of sorcery is recorded in only rural areas. 99% of the incidents occur in the poorest and most backward states of India, where only 10% of the population ever passes high schools. This points towards a huge question.

Why do spirits only inhibit illiterate & uneducated village folk?

2) The spirit refuses to arrive in the vessel if there are media personnel or any other official presence around.

3) Not a single Sorcerer is an educated person. Do you smell something fishy too?

 

 

Whether they are real or not. Sorcerers are a common thing in rural areas of India and Sorcery still lives in this age of Science.