The Kill

How does it feel to be hunted? Does it feel like someone’s watching you all the time? Do the hairs at the back of your neck stand up, as if in reception to somebody’s cruel intentions? Does it feel like you are being drawn into a trap, where you feel powerless?
How does it feel to be constantly on the edge? That razor-sharp edge, where your whole body is taut, muscles strained, senses finely tuned to anything that is not you!

Even as I contemplate this thought, I quickly scan the woods around me and re-assure myself. The jungle is thick around me. I have been walking through the day deeper and deeper into this green maze. The canopy above is thick in places, so now the jungle floor is lit in places and dark in some, as a result casting many shadows everywhere. Shadows, the keepers of darkness, the keepers of secrets, and the jungle holds many. Beyond the splatter of green is hidden a completely different world of violence and murder. Also hidden is that killer. The one they say, who kills but not for food. Then what? Some lust?

Where are you now? Where are you waiting now, crouched to make a kill?

The sun is now high in the sky, the canopy is getting lighter and it is getting very hot down here. Rivulets of sweat are running everywhere on my body. Even that damned bird somewhere ahead must be feeling hot and has stopped singing or is it something else?
I think it is something else. Ah yes, Prints, his prints. And they seem to be leading straight through those rocks. A path through nothing but high rocks on both sides and a perfect place to setup an ambush. He must have known I would have to pass through here. Smart bastard. Well not anymore.
He wouldn’t know of the other way which goes straight above those very rocks which overlook that passage.

That route is full of dying yellow grass, which stands a foot tall. I bend down maximum and slowly start creeping my way upwards, above those rocks. He could be anywhere. I have to be very careful. My heart is thumping madly as I near the top. I am completely flat on the ground and inching slowly so as to make no sound at all. The rocks are now beneath me. I can see them; I can see the path passing through them. But where are you?
I gather courage and peer a little over the edge and get the shock of my life. He is exactly below me and looking the other way, over the path. Waiting for me.

But it is game over for him now. I wish I could ask him his exact sentiments when he sees my black and yellow striped form come down heavily upon him, paw that metal thing from his hands and my teeth go for that scrawny little neck of his beneath that hat-thing.
How does it feel to be hunted I wish to ask? I guess that answer would have to wait for now.

I miss those days

If only !

The following would be my first “serious” attempt at writing a short story.

If Only…….

“Something interesting happened today eh?” enquired the professor, seeing the Principal’s smiling face.

The Principal replied, “Well it’s just that I met this young man outside the theatre, the bohemian kind you see a lot in Vienna these days, the result of the lax and pathetic royal policies……”

“Anyways” he continued,” the lad said he had appeared for the entrance examination at our Vienna Academy of Fine Arts and failed. But he was convinced there was some mistake on part of the academy and that he was destined to be a great artist…..

Well you know, he had this tenacity about him and strong ambition and tremendous self-belief, so I asked him to show me his drawings without revealing that I was the principal at that same academy”

“Oh the humble Herr Principal” poked the professor.

Ignoring the remark the Principal continued, “Well our people were not mistaken, the drawings were strictly average”

“So you asked him try harder?”

“No, somehow I could sense that no matter what, he was not cut out to be an artist……. He must have read my mind because he immediately launched into this monologue about how he was hand-picked by mother destiny and so on and that he would try harder and harder till he got in the academy .……….”

“But I didn’t feel so and after quite a lot of discussion I was able to convince him accordingly, plus” the Principal added mockingly, “I am sure it wouldn’t have been like thousands and thousands of people would have hailed and praised me for taking that young man in and giving them a good artist as a result”

The professor joined in, “True true, ha ha, anyways who was he?”

“He said his name was Adolf Hitler, a German Catholic from Linz”



Well was it worth pondering ?

(panting, scared) *Phew...Its just a wild thought..just a wild thought...nothing else...just a wild thought...take control..breathe slowly..*phew

Expressing your feelings, getting them out of your head, through your mouth into other people's ears or free into the ether is very de-stressing.
Blogging helps too, blogging actually helps a lot. Just sign in to blogger.com or typepad.com, click new post and vent your feelings through the keyboard, and voila you are already feeling relaxed.

But hey, when I say feelings or emotions, I mean both of them. Positive et Negative.
Then why is that when i move around the Blogosphere, 9 out of 10 blogs I encounter tell sad, rather non-positive tales ?

# 1. Boohooo...My boyfriend is gay
# 2. My boss hates me. Screw that son of a bitch
# 3. My wife's been cheating on me...must have shoulder to cry on else will embrace the Magnum on my table

and so on.....

During all this, everyone seems to forget one of the basic laws of the universe.
Energy cannot be destroyed. Which reads in this context that, all the sad tales, break-up tales etc just don't vanish, they are floating around and burdening Blogger server and will soon spread all over the Internet.

Which means according to my calculations, ;-) taking into consideration all the factors like :
# 1. The number of sob-stories being posted every minute
# 2. The intensity of the sob story on the scale of 1-100( eg the world hates me is 85, my boyfriend or my girlfriend is gay is 62 etc)
# 3. The popularity of the sob-story posting blog.
# 4. The freshness of the reason ( eg. That raccoon always makes indecent gestures at me )etc...

that the Internet is going to severely depressed in another T + 236 months. Now that's real bad news.

I don't want a new message on Orkut, whenever it refuses to load my page reading : " Bad, bad server...no more psychiatric sessions for you"

Nor do I want a new message in my inbox, just after I fire off an e-mail which says:
" From: Mailer Daemon, Topic: Delivery Status Notification, Message: I am so sorry, I just was not in the mood to deliver that happy and cheerful sounding love letter to your girl-friend ;-), it so reminds me of those good old days. I am so sorry, right now all I think is about that large bottle of sleeping pills on the server stand. Sorry again"

Jeez. These sure are frightful thoughts. So people please, lets all get-together and stop the Internet from getting clinically depressed and turn in to Marvin the clinically depressed robot.
Because, we know what clinical depression leads to. *BANG*..No more Internet...No more orkutting...no more porn (*shudder)...no more emails...no more live streaming music..no more wiki..No more Nothing

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!!!!!!!

In Tyler We Trust !

"If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this is useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all who claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think everything you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told you should want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity, you will become a statistic.
You have been warned.......Tyler"

Stratophotographical

Tried but could not get a better angle. I was moving to fast to the right and downwards at an acute angle, but nonetheless a great image.

The country sure did look peaceful and calm from up there, but as soon as I landed..*poof..the hope vanished

For all you Usual Suspects fans !!

Stumbled upon this amazing and funny parody of the usual suspects, performed on SNL...and Spacey so sportingly getting ready to be the butt of the joke

Enjoy



If the movie doesn't load...follow this link--> click on me