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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The path leading to nowhere dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: AbsolutelyLost
    ASL Info:    27/M/India
    Elite Ratio:    4.33 - 54/41/33
    Words: 2081
    Class/Type: Prose/Misc
    Total Views: 773
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 11359



    Description:
       This is something I wrote as an introduction to a story. I want to know how is it. Please go ahead and let me know


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dots The path leading to nowhere dots
    -------------------------------------------


    ďIn the hope to achieve oneís dream, one must have the spirit of the river. He must let himself flow like the stream flows through the dreaded valley.Ē

    There is always a feeling that lies within when he sees the ball of fire submerge in the crimson skies. Although, it barely gives him the same feeling as it gave when he was the ever smiling lad, it fills up his heart with the remorse of solitude. Itís as if he were defeated in the battle to survive among the zillions living in a bedazzled city. It makes him numb unparalleled to the effect of alcohol or for that matter drugs. The numbness seems to have stolen the sparkle of his eyes. Even in the dilapidated state as he sits laid back on the peak and watches the clear sky jeweled with stars, a strange tranquility sets in.

    The valley lies far away from the city. Staring at the sparkling blanket Jack lay pondering recollecting memoirs of the bloodbath. There is an odd smile here and there but none close to the spectacle once known. Itís been a while that anyone saw a wholehearted smile on his face. Nobody knows what happened to the lad with sparkling eyes and winsome murmurs. Did he set along with the ball? Or was he flown away by the gusts of wind? What happened to Jack is still a mystery. As the night grew so did his remorse. The thought deepens and makes him realize the worth of his existence. In such a situation normally a smile would be a reaction that one would find on his face. But life shows an altogether different story this time.

    Itís been a while since Jackís existence mattered. The cancer-stick burns the desires which he once had. All that he has been doing since an age seems to be stare at the green valley. As the gusts of wind blow, the black shawl floats like a kite sails at the highest altitude. The turbulence of the waters below creates a mental turmoil which is aggravated by the black shawl covering his face.

    He was born in a city known to be the city of dreams. Lurkshire was an eventful place with extraordinary people. You could find excellent charmers all around and the encyclopedia varied from abcís to alpha, beta, zetaís, from English to Latin, from Classics to Sci-fiís, name it and you would find a man with unparalleled learning of the genre.

    The memories bring back the tender touch of his angel taking him into her arms, caressing, protecting and bestowing her blessings. He finds himself crawling on the floor surrounded with toys and his very own teddy with fur coming out of the armpits, missing eyeballs and bitten arms, yet so sweet. The toy train circling round and round bringing smiles and words yet to come. Of all the things that come to his memory what did matter most to him was his cradle. It was his world, a three by two feet kingdom with the kingís men Donald, Mickey, the gi-joeís and so on. All that mattered was lying there to pick up a kings man and torment him using his mighty jaws. The animal love as they call it dominated the armor known to withstand unearthly blows.

    It isnít long as his happiness is screwed by the witch Zelda. Although it isnít Zeldaís intent to burn down his kingdom, but how does he know? All he knows is the feeling of being lifted unwanted. He is not interested in the walks of fantasy. Neither do the words make any effect on his ears nor do the antiques bring any smiles. Finally, it results into an outburst of a high pitched attack. Zelda has not yet had her share of pulling the rosy cheeks, but even she canít handle the fatal attacks. With unparallel supremacy he lands into the arms of Princess Carla. Unlike Zelda, her touch is soft and full of love. It gives him the same feeling as he gets in the arms of his angel. Eventually, after being tossed like a ball here and there, he can no more withstand and gives out a cry that only one can handle. As a result, he lands up into the arms of his angel. The sense makes him roll over the turmoil and bestow mercy for Zelda, Carla and the likes.

    There is a sense of calm, as if the sea had become silent after a storm. The seagull flies as it kisses the water. The sky is clear again and finally there is a clear thought coming back. There is a glow in his face as he recollects her face in the silence of the night. As has always been the case, the calm perishes with the midnight cry of the owl.

    It was a hot summer afternoon when Jack left Lurkshire walking the path leaving behind the past to live whatís ahead. But one can not just erase the memories of whatís engraved deep within oneís heart. Jack boots his system to play the past and realize what is that he truly seeks. As the reels start to roll, he sees himself playing with balls, toy cars, dolls and being taken into arms by unknown people. As he starts to gain control over his mind and body, he realizes the smiles that he brings around himself. Although, it isnít completely clear as to him how he does it. The reel fast forwards and he sees himself trying to handle the weight of his body with his tender feet. He falls, rises again and falls but he has a lot of nerve. Never does he allow his determination to falter. Finally with the crutches, the support offered by her he manages to take the first few steps. Unaware of the fact of why is he trying to achieve the crutch free state, he makes the effort. Itís an equally magical moment for the angel as well. Barely does she realize that she is also taking the first few steps.

    The next chapter begins as he walks dressed in blue shorts, white shirt, and a blue tie. He waves goodbye to her as tears kiss his cheeks again and again. Surrounded by blue shorts, white shirts and blue ties he is introduced to the facts of life. He does not understand two plus twoís or abcís, or is it that he does not want to. Fighting with numbers and letters he has started to identify the surroundings. Slowly but steadily he has accustomed to the oval desks. Chalks seem to be his passion and the teacher barely finds it and has to get new ones whenever she gets in. And then he watches himself chanting Ďring-a-ring-a roses, pocket full of poses, hasha busha and all fall downí. Through abcís to Gulliverís travels. From two plus two to triangles and rectangles the picture is getting clearer.

    Jack was a bright chap and could handle the burden much better than his fellow mates. Never had it happened that he was not surrounded by others for chit chat or cooperation. As the reel rolls he finds himself sailing through complex equations, digesting the facts of once known civilizations, heroes who fought valiantly to save kingdoms, the alchemy which gave birth to numerous drugs, and the enchanting world of the camera. There is a pause, and then he finds himself fighting hard on his video game set to rescue the princess, to protect the world from alien creatures, and flying on a magic carpet with Jasmine.

    The reel stops as tears roll down his cheeks. Unable to understand what had happened to the tinsel, he canít control his urge to get back. Then suddenly he faces the facts as the reel starts to roll again. He finds himself battling with books desperately to prove himself to his role model. What matters to him now is achievement. No longer can he enjoy the luxury of rescuing damsels in distress or racing through busy streets. The overshadowed realization of responsibility has set in. How could he face the times yet to come without performing impeccably to realize a modeled dream? He is pestered with the orchestra playing. The orchestraís notes remain the same. The music demands potential and performance without the understanding of why it needs to be done. Unaware of what things are going to be he has to survive and battle through the present. He has to gain command in all the fields of academics to achieve a score to make it to a so called deemed institution. No one has ever told him what would be the result of the choices he makes. What could be the possible reason for choosing calculus over baseball? Was it that he was delinquent in music or was it that he didnít have the ability to steer the Ferrari well enough? He doesnít have the choice. Pretty much is the case that even though given the choice he would not be able to make it. There is only one reason behind the inability to make the choice Ė he has been crippled since ages. All he has done so far is what he has been asked to do. Suddenly out of blue the axe of time is hanging around his neck. Taking the right decision within a flash is not something which his heart can guide him to. Once he wished to soar in the skies, another time he wished to handle magnums, yet again someday he wished smash pacers all over the stadium. He had desires to ride horses, become a physicist, and become a magician. But he never had followed the path to make his dream come true.

    The choices which he made were the choices what he was asked to make. They were willfully made because he never had any will left to decide. What could he do? Let the role modelís heart rest in pain till eternity; make the eyes of his angel wet for ages. He questions himself again and again - Why does it have to be this way? All his questions are answered in a fashion which leaves him speechless. What could he have done when his desire to become a fighter pilot got the reply of not having the heart to protect him for the oneís who love him? Could he possibly evade his passion for games because it is not sufficiently reasonable enough? Instead why doesnít he go for engineering when he already loves science and mathematics? Or may be he could become a surgeon, havenít you seen how much he cares?

    Eventually, in spite of turmoil he makes the choice. He finds himself studying varied concepts, from law of inertia to calculus, from benzene to circular motion, from Bohrís model to collision theory and so on. Hardly does he remember the conflict within himself. There is an ambition, a determination and a will to prove that he is worthy of having the luxuries which have been banned. And why, when he looks back is that he can concentrate to achieve the goal. The perennial wish to toy with the tennis racket and cricket balls seems to be unsatisfied.

    Jack canít take the flash anymore. There is a big interval before the reel unwinds again. By this time Jack tries to focus on what did he do and what he did. He understands the concern and anxiety of the oneís who love him. All they wish for is to have a secure future for there genius. They realize the dearth of ability to make the choice which he could have made, but they are governed by the facts which they have witnessed. When he was struggling with equations his angel was working hard taking care of his needs. He finds his role model maneuvering the thick books to guide him through the physical world. How could he not see the pain they were going through while he was complaining all along? Jackís eyes are numb and his heart is pricked with needles. Each and every argument, all the fights are flashing before his eyes. But he understands that it is the share of the burden which they had to take to make him what he is today. Then as a sweet punch of nectar the black carpet shadows his vision.




    Submitted on 2009-06-27 02:14:16     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      So this is really interesting. Here we have this highly educated, (with the competence of comprehension) guy who seems to lose his focus for a moment, seems to just get a little off track, he has his dreams and his ambitions, but how can they compare to the angel? The jasmine on a carpet?

    It seems like he is confident enough in who he is and just wants someone along side him to reflect.

    Natural.

    It is easy to read, a breath of fresh air when it comes to some of the senteces, they are artistic, pleasant and light.

    I do wonder what happens next, this story as it is mounts to a conclusion all on its own, as in the ending wraps up satisfyingly with the character bound for success.

    Okay. So if this is the introduction I wonder if the story itself would be quite different in tone and in structure. If the setting would dominate the scene rather than the thoughts of the character.

    Hm.

    Thanks for sharing.
    | Posted on 2011-09-29 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]
      the first quote stole my attention completely.

    the way you describe things is so unique and refreshing.

    my favorite parts:

    "ever smiling lad...living in a bedazzled city....clear sky jeweled with stars...missing eyeballs and bitten arms, yet so sweet....The seagull flies as it kisses the water...the burden which they had to take to make him what he is today."

    and the entire last paragraph ended it wonderfully.

    there was something enchanting about the beginning, the scene watching the sun, the words your used in the beginning were the sweetest kind of poetry. but in the middle i realize you were changing the mood, describing stress and conflict of decisions but i think the flow of words sort of fizzled out. it was more tiresome to read in the middle i think because the language wasnt as rich and metaphors were simple, -if i were to offer advice i would say actually add more to this piece. put more description and emotional, tense moments in the middle to make your point. maybe talk more about the guardian and why he felt the need to impress him. maybe mention the angel in the middle and how his stress and working so hard all the time effected her. was she worried, proud, encouraging..etc. just thoughts.

    and the end i loved loved loved. the realization, like a boy growing up and finally reaching adulthood not at a birthday, but at the moment he stops thinking about himself and starts to appreciate others.

    awesome.
    | Posted on 2009-10-24 00:00:00 | by Theophilus | [ Reply to This ]
      Its good, you good with discription. But, you need diogloge. If its a introduction to a story, its to long. If you are not carful, you can loose the reader on to much discripture at once of the character. Its important to be blaced. You need to have a set pattern, describe him a bit, than move on with the story, describe him a bit, than move on. If your not even, people wont be able to finish it.

    Now, if its just a peice that you wrote, off the top of your head, just to write, kinnda like a free write. well, than its another story. If thats the case, its good. I can see the pattern of wonder. Your grammer is awsome for this type of write. You did good on the beganning, the stating sentence pretty much sets the theme of this kind of story. It immedatly sets the reader into the state of mind frame that they need.

    I'm not sure which one it is. And Idon't want to offend you. you have tallent. That is for sure, clearly shown in this peice.
    | Posted on 2009-07-26 00:00:00 | by grimmreaper | [ Reply to This ]


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