25 November 2012

A"THEIST"

In the hall of great Zeus, everyone was summoned by name and seated in their positions, and was served with the fat of oxen and a glass of honey wine each. It was the appraisal hour and the grey eyed Athena was reading out the appraisal in the name of gods. The appraisal was from a young guy, to whom fate had been ruthless for long, until a few days ago, when he had acted with bravery and optimism to be in a pleasant position now. The young man deeply delighted by the fair life he was enjoying, poured out a cup of wine and burnt healthy fat sheep on the coast of Potra, and spelled out the appraisal, deep from his heart.

Thus, the fair skinned goddess read out,
"Zeus, o ruler of the clouds and storms, the one to decide favors and harms, I bow to you for you rule the world, I bow in respect to your greatness, the being eternal. My life was torn a hundred pieces, and my tears tumbled off my eyes, until I found the harmony in your rule, the being eternal. Zeus, I thank you for all that..."
And would have she continued in the soothing tone, had not Olympus been shaken to its roots. "Hades" shrieked some voice trembling. "Octapatehia" hushed another. And as everyone panicked, Zeus stood fiercely on his throne, legs apart, closed eyes, clutching his sparkling thunder weapon tight in his fist, with tingling senses, he spoke frowning, "ATHESSE".

Fear crept along the spines of many, even the wise Athena dropped her jaw bewildered, and Poseidon shivered in horror. Athesse was the step brother of Zeus. Every time he visited the hall, came along with him were deadly threats and stranger warnings. He ran to Olympus, as the great rocks trembled under his stamping feet. The last time he visited the great mountain claiming that Zeus' power over the human race is just a chance; Zeus had to strike him with a bolt throwing him lonely on an unknown island.

"Zeus" he growled, "hath come your end today. The highest throne on the Olympus shall not be owned by the chance taker. Your imaginary rule shall come to an end. There is no being of a power of god. Your power hath always lied in the belief of man. Nature has never been your creation. Nature evolved out of its own sense. You are nay unique." he gasped breathing deeply, "why this offerings from the greatest kings? Why from those kingdoms where many die hungry? Thou art cruel. Aren't you driving them mad out of the wits of humanity, in the name of these senseless rituals?" cut his words, he stamped again and everyone else trembled in terror. Zeus alone stood firm, as if he was glued the marble and spoke, " O Athesse, it is true that I am not the creator, our father Cronos the great ruled the vast world before us, and above him stood a many. I never claimed the power, nor did any god over here, nor shall you and your Scientia. It was they who entitled Zeus to be the ruler of worlds. It was they who, fascinated by the vast knowledge of Athena, crowned her as the master of all skills. And similarly, the rest all of us too. The ritual was similar to us being the rulers. We never prescribed any ritual to the humans. The offering of honey, wine and meat was a custom the mankind had built over ages. In sacrifice of their share of food, and in the earnest holy devotion they show to me, I bless them; say more effectively, I wish them betterment in every task. And it is the same trust of theirs in my name that I abide by their side that helps them be unintentionally stronger and sharper than many other competitors. For the similar reason, my devotees die, and are immortal like any other. Hath I had a divine power over them, all those whom I would favor would have ruled the world. It has never been so. Mankind follows the laws of nature. I am what I am, just because they trust that this is what I am."

Everyone was startled at the words of Zeus, and so was Athesse. He spoke further, "why then you stand by this cloud rocker? You know that the truth is you are not someone unique. Yet, you apart, what about those thousands of saints out there, who speak virtuously of good deeds in the name of god, god Zeus, and yet not following them? Have you not witnessed many a preachers speaking that they were god, the god equivalent to you yourself? Why, in no summit ever held on the greatest mountain of earth had not been the false preachers' preaching been discussed? What about the thousands of priests who make money performing these rituals? And of those astrologers who predict strange happenings? And what about all those business makers around your name, the name of god? Why has . . . . "

"Evil", Zeus growled, interrupting the questionnaire, “evil, evil it is, o master of logic. God is he who has done good deeds. God was born to direct people into betterment. God is him when he shows how an ideal person ought to be. God is no ruler of human races my sibling. And if it is someone claiming them to be the god, he always is fooling around. Rituals were man-made and so were priests and astrologers. If it is the same trust as they have in me, yes, my competitors shall be the god too. And such god whose intentions are evil shall suffer the effect."

Thus listening, Athesse questioned back, "Trust, trust, trust. If being god is always about trust, why Zeus, had you not been unique? Why did Poseidon, cupid, Athena, Hercules, and a thousand more come into the scenario? Why are gods, the ones prayed by the mankind so many? Religions apart, why in the followers of just one epic of the Ilium, are so many gods? And for each god are a thousand statues, each carved in its own way? Why had so many gods evolved out of just belief?"

Athena, the daughter and of Zeus, fair in attire, sharp in word, stood up as if to answer, and looked for all her colleagues, as if were representing them, and spoke in a melodious tone, "sir Athesse, why question the nature? Was nature not made of the sea and cloud? Was love and anger the same emotion? Did wind blow the way one wished? Or did grass grow as someone wanted it to? Had the entire world been the same? Had the cold night been alike in May and November? Nay, nay. The nature is made of an infinite variety. The trust in each of such existence and the control of a power higher than humane and out of reach of mankind had been assigned to one god. And so are a thousand gods. Never had they seen me in my true existence, and so had they ever seen my father, or the sun god. The residents of the divine rock had the power to assume the image they wished to, the priests say. My father would say, and so would I that the image one wishes a god to be in, shall be the attire in which that one would see god.
And every great king who had been victorious in the trust of the wave maker had a smooth and safe journey had built his own temple for Poseidon. In each of this temple, is a sculpture carved as the king saw him or the sculptor imagined him to be. And so, a thousand of a thousand idols for a thousand gods, as you said. An idol had to be carved, to make a record of the memory. For the mankind believes, in the idol shall rest the story, and a look at it shall remind of you all the great and the deadly happenings of the past. The wrecked ships they remind you of, and the victorious ones too. The jealous in laws they remind you of, and the honest soldiers." everyone was drawn deep into memories of their idols and temples as the fair goddess spoke and a chatter rose as her speech ended. Zeus and Athesse shot into each other’s eyes fiercely and the crowd's chatter apparently fell, if not for a giggle.

The annoying giggle came from low behind Hercules. Athesse snarled in anger, "who is it?" everyone was terrified by this act of Cupid who slowly slides out from behind the chair, shutting his giggle in fear.


(To be continued...)

15 November 2012

A love'th night

Along with that roses waiting for dawn, is a guy waiting in her lawn,
like a moon for her to come, over the balcony walls as he starts to hum,
and stand like a princess in the moonlight, as to shine over her the stars fight.
And the prince stands midst the roses, and he kneels and for her, poses,
his arms wide open for her, to keep her warm like a coat of fur,
Ladder he points to her beside, she can climb down and be by his abide.

And in the moonlight, she comes dressed in white,
around her waist passes his hand, as she stands for his magic wand.
Into her other his fingers embrace, and they rise high showing heaven's ways.
The opera plays cool and slow, and on toes they dance the bella bow.
He holds her index high, and she goes round as the violins cry,
and the prince and his girl, go in dance to sway and swirl.

They dance in a rhythmic go, they dance at the nature's show.
They dance in a love divine, in moonlight like a star they do shine.

12 November 2012

Where there is love, there is a way.

For all pigeons have died, I send this letter through vultures.
They have never been spied, no one knows where mine ventures.
In worlds high above all these mails, and the rockets that crackle,
Here they come to set fire, for cutest smile to sparkle.

In tears we spent our lives, in tears we ought to end them,
Our love was always hurt by knives, death yet not, now or then.
Our candle of hope won't blow out, may winds of whatever blow.
On roots of trust were they sprout, it shall never fall low.

I know you feel guilty and bad, I don't want you to,
I know you are gloomy and sad, tell me what I should do.
I wait for you to decide and tell, for I don't know what happened.
Tell it you, tell me the spell, for I don't want me to, again offend.

I know what your forever meant, I know how confused you are,
I wish not you ask where you went, I was not in worlds far.
My promises I will stand by, I wont leave you in gloomy grave,
I will be the sun to clear your sky, You are my princess and me thy slave.

To order is all your part, and to execute it is mine,
Just know it to your heart, you and me are always fine.
The dark roads were moonlit, it's hard for me to see the way.
Yet our locked fingers won't split, I shall never ever go away.

I wish you read this and know me, for all other pigeons went away,
I wish happy and fearless you be, I won't let your rainbow be grey.

4 November 2012

Little poems (3)

The flame licks all the wood, the clock ticks the time of food,
hungry rats knock my walls, like sleepy pats do'th they calls.
I want to eat and drink, is someone to feed at my blink?
Come here o prey, come near I pray,
fill my mouth and go deep in, nay uncouth nor nay sin.

O girl, I have a wish to make, I know you'll make it real someday.
Over a coffee and a chocolate cake, all our time will make its way.
That day I'll think this one year of care, be it by word be it by touch, 
that day I'll make you better aware, that I love you a lot so much.

1 November 2012

Moon is a story too.


New moon- The state of a guy's mind before a girl comes into his life. None is the one, but stars a many, are hearts to be own, choose of them any.

Waxing crescent- As he falls in love, is this crescent his smile. Her crescent he loves, and his one lights, to her beauty he bows, and flies his hopes' kites.

Waxing gibbous- It is that story of promises and proposals. The oaths are taken, and a world is woven, of dreams forsaken, glass walls are broken.

Full moon- The days of pure and divine feelings. The full moon is her to him, the full moon is the , across the purest channel they swim, into the grave waning ahead.

Waning gibbous - A season of jealousies and feelings. The love is now past, its a ship on a calm sea, no wind shall kiss the mast, it is so for it has to be.

Waning crescent- It is when the pessimist in you speaks.Every story has to end, for routine shall bore, Every twig has a lot to bend, as the egos show the core.

New moon- The end of a story, sweet memories and bitter tears. It is the end and was a story, hearts cry and tears flow, it shall be penned in history, tears dry and hearts glow.