To call a King a ‘King’

Who’s a King?

Will a broad-shouldered,

heavy-hearted, rugged chested,

body be called a King.

Or a kind, merciful

and just heart be called a King.

Does the wisdom of the World

make a King?

Or does a scar on the face and

bruises on the body make a King?

Am I a King?

with the wisdom, I’ve conquered and

the scars I’ve earned.

The heaviness in the heart and

the majesty in my look.

Would golden plates and

diamond crowns with a

gleaming sword packed upon

shinning sheath make me a King?

Does a book in hand

with a pen full of words

and the will to write

with a mind to think

make me a King?

Either would not,

until the winds around my frail skin

and the sky above my wounded head

Call me King.

Photo by Pro Church Media on Unsplash

UR LOCATION – your privacy is your priority.

Hi everyone, It has been a while since I posted here and today I am happy to announce to you that I made a shortfilm named UR LOCATION, which takes place entirely on google maps.

When your privacy is not relevant anymore, keep an eye out for the uninvited guests.

UR LOCATION is a computer screen-based short film , just under 2 minutes. It deals with privacy and its concerns.

I would like to talk more about it but it is better if you could watch it.

So please spare a few minutes and watch my short film and that would be very much appreciated.

Thank you………

A Dream Come True

So here I am, ticked off another from my bucket list. I made my first short film and published it today. Yaaayy.

Everyone who had been following my blog, thank you. Do watch my first try on the bigger screen.

A short picture of what the film is about.

When a security officer commits suicide because of a wrongly filed case, his daughter, Nikhila comes to the spotlight to advocate her father’s side of the story. A representative of the people who had failed to get their voices heard among clamoring of the fouled minds.

Everyone, ones again thanking you for the support. Please watch it and give your review on it.

Rules of Jungle

There came the three,

The silent, short and troubled,

Settled down a tree,

Asking one and other

The first talked first,

About the rules and laws of jungle,

The second felt last,

While the third raised the fist.

There came the fourth,

Who cannot stand the noise,

Settling in middle,

The fourth spoke in murmers,

The third one lost the calm,

The Fist rose again.

The second found the sound,

Yet jammed it down the throat.

Day was neat and pure,

The tree was green and dry,

The rules and laws of jungle,

Stayed the same as then.

But the three of them and fourth,

Lost a teeth or two.

Burning Shadows – Chapter 2

Read Burning Shadows chapter 1 here ==>

How can someone describe things that they can’t understand? Their eyes, face and emotions tell a better story than words. Disconcerted was how I would tell mine when I saw the Space communication and research facility at the west hill countryside. A giant research facility that stood at the dead centre of a sombre village town fenced off by electric wires with three large towers and a gigantic communication dish used for satellite communication that could cover the entire facility if put upside down. Half the residents engaged in farming and fishing while the rest fled the state in fear of the facility. When the call came to me early after Christmas night telling there was news at the west hillside, there was only so much one could hope from that place. I could have turned back when the guard at the gate stopped me from entering the facility, I could have. Yet I went on arguing with the him till an officer came by and asked me my ID.

“Shirley, from The Nation daily I see,” the officer said with a wicked grin lining his face, I was sure he knew me from television but not wanted to show it on his face. “We are not letting the medias in.”

I knew very well the facility won’t let anyone in without an authorization letter from the officials and I had none, but that couldn’t stop me. As I looked around there was a crowd gathered about the gate, mostly reporters and cameramen trying to gather whatever was going on from outside. There was no way I could get in if they can’t.

“We have witnesses stating that about seven ambulances rushing out of the facility early this morning to the State general hospital,” the info I got from the call that morning. His grin remained on his face, which slowly started to show a few of the white teeth underneath.

“Nothing fatal, there was a minor accident in the facility, nothing that needs to be worried about.” He said clapping his hands together as if things were as normal as before. But I needed answers.

“My sources find that the people who were taken to the hospital, some of them suffered severe injuries,” which was utterly fake, trying to bait the officer into giving up more than he intended.

“Then your sources must have been wrong, there were no such situations. The state would officially address the event very soon and then you will know the truth,” he said but the grin he wore now disappeared. He kept his hands at the back and walked to the facility. “Looks like your charm didn’t work this time,” someone called out from the crowd and I knew who it may have been. Being sure nothing much could be acquired from standing there I turned towards the crowd to search for the familiar face.

“Look who we have here, the Great Dev if not who,” I said as I saw him standing with his video camera a little away from the rest, the eyes of the crowd turned to me, some of them smiled some scowled, I get it, being better isn’t easy. He bowed to acknowledge my praise. I knew Dev from several years back when he used to work for the Nation daily, we started almost the same time, an energetic young man who always had the thirst for more. But the boundaries of a media company could only hold him for so long that he quit his job one day out of nowhere and went on to explore carrying his video camera as a freelancer. I always appreciated his effort and dedication but never his character. So if he was there filming, there was plenty wrong at the facility.

“I see that you are early,” he said, a half burning cigarette on his lips.

“Not early enough,” I said eyeing at the crowd of journalist waiting for the moment to burst out the question rolling in their mind. “What have you got?”

“Questions have been asked,” he said. I nodded realizing that he didn’t get anything better than I did. 

“I hoped to see you here today, inside the police car for breaking into the facility,” I said with a weak smile, it was true, I honestly hoped he would do that.

“I almost did that, but gave it a second thought,” he said cracking a laugh, “you’ve got anything?” I shook my head, it was a dead-end. Every case was until it wasn’t. “What could go wrong at a facility like this?”

“Everything.” We stood there till noon hoping someone would come out of the gate, to give away anything worth the wait, I almost gave a thought about slipping in but no the security was tighter than ever, chances of getting caught were higher and I didn’t have time to spare sitting at a police station. Dev proposed an idea to get lunch as I hadn’t had breakfast I jumped into going with him, also asking around a few of the residents would shed some light about the matter.

We chose a grey and shady restaurant a little away from the facility, the giant dish at the facility was visible through the window, much of the tables were empty, a middle-aged man worked the table. “Perilous business up at the facility, isn’t it?” Dev asked the waiter who came by the table. The man nodded, he was smiling not showing any sign of awareness about what was happening, “You’ve heard anything?” he asked again. But the response came from behind, an elderly man who sat with a woman eyed us from their table.

“Wicked things going up there, these godless man bringing destruction upon us,” the man said, his face reddened at the mere sight of the giant dish through the window, “First they took our land, now our lives, soon they will be digging our bodies from the ground that is if they could find them.” The woman next to him laid her hands on his shoulders trying to calm him up, which seemed to have some effect on him.

“You working for them people?” He asked, the wrinkled forehead narrowing down in disgust.

“No, we’re reporters. We heard something happened at the facility, thought about learning it, No luck yet.” Dev said, me waiting for him to work his magic, I was fully aware of his ability to make people talk.

“They won’t tell a thing, always been that way, those demons. The last seven days, I am telling you, there were unusual things about, our animals could feel that they are restless like they are going mad.” The woman whispered to the man trying to remind him of something he forgot.

“Yes, the sound. There had been these sound at night, deadly noise, like a siren. Nothing like I’ve ever heard before, trust me when I say that, I’ve been in the army and have heard all kind of alarms and siren. That is nothing as such. I can’t sleep at night, no one here can.” His hands trembled at the thought which he now tightened to a fist. “I don’t hope the government will do anything about it. They don’t even care about us.”

“I heard there was a lot of ambulance going this way today morning, some accident up there maybe,” I said trying to make him talk more about it.

“Accident? You think they cause accidents. Its devilry that’s what they are doing there. People have been going missing for the past two weeks. I am sure they must be doing some evil tricks on them.” Missing, that was something new. On one hand, people going missing from the village and the case of ambulances running out of the facility on the other, some part of my mind wanted to bring those ideas to a conclusion. But no, without sheer evidence those were just assumptions. But I wanted to know more.

“Missing? who?” I asked. He eyed me as if I asked something I shouldn’t have. He shook his head and stood up, “I have said more than I wanted to.” He gathered his belongings and walked out followed by the woman, “If you could do something, please make them stop the sound.” And they both went out.

Dev looked at me, a sceptic stare that shared the same questions as I did. The man may be exaggerating on somethings, the facility was made for satellite communication, not for human experimentation, but if people were missing there should be some explanation. My question was if the facility and missing cases were same or two widely different ones that shared no links whatsoever. I needed firm proofs to reach either end.

“How far is riverside,” I asked Dev, he was staring at the giant dish, “six or seven kilometres, probably half an hour ride, why?” he said without taking his eyes off the window. 

“I have a case I need to look into,” I said as I started to get up from the table and made my way to the door.

“Do you want me to join you?” he asked, I knew it wasn’t because of old times sake, it was pure professional interest if the case was worth his time he would work it out, but it would only hurt my ego. Moreover, the case came to me, specifically to me.

“No,” I said, “we don’t work together anymore, remember” I smiled as I went out of the door watching him nod his head in agreement.

Burning Shadows- Chapter 1

There are times when one must choose to give up or hold on, picking the right one is important because once taken there won’t be a turning back. Even after seventeen years of working as a journalist at the Nation daily, I must admit I never thought about giving up on a story but now I must. I should have said no when my boss asked me if I could spare a minute on the Christmas evening. Expecting treats and gift I was welcomed by a ragged man at the office shivering from the cold outside, his face pale and wrinkled. My boss gestured me to the chair next to the man, I barely noticed his eyes which were tightly shut, as if he was afraid to see me.

“He asked for you,” my boss told me as I sat down next to the man, “I am Shirley,” I held my hand out, he smiled and thanked me for meeting him. He introduced himself as Janak, told me he had seen me on television, his mother was a huge follower of mine, I felt proud of myself, but the face suddenly went grave his grip on my hands tightened, I had the urge to pull it back but his voice broke my thoughts.

“My mother is missing,” his voice shaking, each sound took a struggle to come out, when it did, it barely made above a whisper, I leaned in to listen. “She had been gone for three days,” he pulled out a photo of an old woman around ninety in a wheelchair, the man solely seemed above sixty and it was not the perfect age someone went missing. I looked at my boss, who had a foolish smirk on his face, he nodded me to continue, I turned to the man and asked if there were any daughter or grandchildren she could have gone to, but his response was simple, “No, I was all there was.” He assured me that all her belongings were at home, there was no way she could have gone without him knowing. He continued after a momentary silence.

“I live at the riverside, I went to the local police station but no one seemed to have an interest in it, they said they had more important jobs in hand and will look into mine when there was time,” tears rolled through his closed eyelids, he was shaking when he rubbed it with his hand.

“My mother and I would always watch your programs, when I had lost all my hopes in the police I didn’t have any other choice but to come to you. I know you are a good person always trying to find the truth, I even remember when you went against the government itself when all others hid under the tables afraid.” His smile grew wide; I could see that he had huge admirations for me as both his hands now held mine.

“I know that this isn’t the kind of things you go after, an old woman who went missing, who knows if she couldn’t take anymore from her son, cracked up and ran away,” his smiles turning to a thin line, “But I can promise you that was none of the cases, she loved me and I loved her back more, the only friend I had, she would never leave me even if I died she would come to my grave every day”

The police would not be interested in such petty cases, I knew, even though it was their job to find her, the elections were on its way and there were duties of national importance at hand under which the missing case was one they could simply put down as a woman who cracked and ran away. Which was the reason why journalists like me thrived in the country, doing the businesses of police, no wonder the man came to me when he had given up on them.

“Would you find my mother for me?” the man asked, hope shadowing his face, I could see he almost opened his eyelids to look but chose not to. With the elections coming up I was on a very busy schedule, sparing my time on a missing case could only result in me being pushed behind others who are racing to be the first. But the man came for me, asked specifically for me, he had put all the hopes on me and I couldn’t turn down an old man on a Christmas night. I agreed to follow the case and meet up with him very soon.

“I don’t have much money, but..” he started to put his hands to the pocket but I stopped him, after all those years of running after money I knew when to say no. I had made enough to last me a lifetime, that was enough. He smiled, tear rolls running down his cheek.

“What happened to your eyes?” I asked out of curiosity which I regretted as it came so hard it may have sounded rude to the other person, but he kept the smile as if it was not the first time someone asked him.

“I am afraid of shadows since I was born, so my mother taught me to close my eyes when I am afraid. I don’t open them when she is not around.”

The wind outside was chilling, the moon at its full shedding the lights out to the streets. I asked the man if he needed a ride, but he waved off the offer.

“It is a lovely night to be walking, I will be fine,” he said as he went out of the main door to the streets, he turned back one more time.

“Merry Christmas,”

“Merry Christmas,” I said, waving goodbye to the man as he walked through the paved road. My boss waiting behind, he had his doubtful eyes hanging on me.

“You sure about that, Shirley”

“Yes, you called me in.”

“Very well then, It’s on you, I won’t let you take off any time from the office,” He said and I nodded agreeing, “Strange fellow that man, put a bit of care on where you step,” he said as he walked into the building.

“I will,” I stood outside watching the old man’s figure fading in the black of the night. Unaware of the terrors that waited for me.

Case of Dead rats

If there are moments to cherish in life, hold it, treasure it because when things go downhill they will let pull yourself up. But there is only so much one can do to keep it sane. When the brisk monsoon comes calling the name of chilling winds of midnight, make sure to stay inside underneath your warm and cosy blankets or the dead rats will find you. To all the misfortunes I may have burdened myself with, no one had the mind to tell me that, if they did I would have stayed there. When a dead rat bathed in the crimson of what I could assume was its blood was found in the porch I choked on the coffee in my throat assuring me again that walking into one’s porch isn’t the best idea to do in the morning, try the garden, that would be better. Anyway, I had put down my cup of brewed coffee, slowly turning cold.

Picking up the remains was one thing and washing away the blood another. It took a considerable time of my lovely, engaging morning to dig a grave for a garbage rat who had the misery to be torn to pieces by a rowdy cat, which I now spotted strolling around my backyard watching me do the dirty business for him. Snow white with green sharp eyes, walking to a rhythm of its own. One rat could not make me late for the office, but the traffic did and I blamed the stinking cat for that.

There will always be a rising urge to do certain things that we promised ourselves not to do ever, at the least for me I didn’t have another choice but to walk straight into the porch the next morning where I was warmly welcomed by a severed body of a garbage rat, luckily I hadn’t taken the coffee early which saved me from puking over it. I must admit this one was a bit bigger than the one I found yesterday and the rowdy cat if not, a ruthless killer was doing a good job at that. I dig the grave near to the one found last day, hoping they both belong to the same family and wouldn’t want to put them apart in their final sleep. As before the cat walked in the distance watching me with its keen eyes. I couldn’t help but throw a stone at it to save me from its dreadful stare.

Let it go was my first thoughts when I was able to catch the rowdy cat in a netted basket the next evening, I would have if he didn’t put another ugly dead rat at my doorstep to the porch early this morning, three days on a row I have seen a dead rat to start my day, which I can guarantee did no help to make the day any better but only made it worse hour after another. But its sharp eyes were calm and pleading, its soft cry was enough to melt my heart to raise the basket and let it free. It ran faster that I couldn’t spot him when he rushed through the sidewalk. Last chance.

It truly was the last chance, when I sat in the car’s driving set ready with the basket on the backseat ready at my arm’s length, waiting for the cat to jump in anytime soon at the doorstep pulling the ugly carcass for me to see when I wake up as he did early that morning. A week, seven days in a row, the menacing cat left me filthy rats torn to pieces. This time I couldn’t let it pass by. I was determined to catch it red-handed and do whatever I had to make sure it didn’t repeat it ever. So I decided to stay up all night in my car, still and silent, except for the rain that made monstrous echoing through the porch. I cursed like never before on the cat for making me stay out in the cold night. Ones or twice I drifted off to sleep but made myself wake up, there was more pressing issue than one sleepless night.

It was nearing dawn, I could tell, the rain got even stronger as the night passed. The smell of wet soil brushed through my nose, making my already drowsy eyes weigh heavier, another ten different smells came with it. One particular made me nauseated, it took me some time to place the stinking smell, the dead. I could tell that because I have been seeing dead rats at my doorstep every morning for the last seven days I was more than familiar with the smell and there it came again. I leapt over my seat to have a good look at the outside where the cat must be, there wasn’t any however the stinking arose to a level that I wasn’t even sure if it came from the outside, anyway I chose to get my basket to ready myself to leap into the ground if I find the rowdy cat.

Fear always arises from questions when one can’t find all the answers and that is when it captures us. But it can only follow until we find the unanswered a logical explanation, for my knowledge was limited to find the answers that remained, moreover I couldn’t even find the right questions in the first place. My first and foremost question was Who killed the cat? As I looked back at the basket, inside the snowy fluffy cat lay in the pool of its blood. The sharp, uneasy eyes stayed shut, letting itself sleep through all the tortures it had gone through. My second question was How did a dead cat manage to get inside my car’s backseat? I was sure that the cat was not inside before and there was no other way it could have got in unless it learned to open the door and chose to die inside by gutting itself. It was enough questions for me to get out and run into the house.

The last part of fear comprises suspicion, we always try to tie in each event that we can’t understand to our fear, which rises suspicion over anything that happens to us, the dead rat that lay at the doorstep as I made my way into the house kept on feeding the fear in me. For everything that happened on that night and seven days before, I was convinced enough to shut my porch with brick and wood and bar my door hoping it would stop whatever evil that was in play outside. And I truly agree with the fact that it did help to keep the evil at bay, to an extent. Now, I find dead cats at my kitchen sink.