chapter 3:The story resumes

note: till now the story was based on real events. henceforth every word is pure fiction.

the recurring dreams seemed to her to be a premonition of danger. every morning found her scared out of wits as more pictures unravelled in her dreams. she tried Derek's number but got his answering machine. the apprehension that he was giving her a cold shoulder strengthened. for two days she had been directed to his answering machine and when she called at his office he was supposedly engaged in a conference and had not cared to call back in answer to her multiple messages . well, the bad luck had begun. Derek would soon be out of the picture and she would be alone yet again. she was surprised at the extent of her affections for him which she had never before cared to express. the sensible in her soon took control and she forgot all about her dream . the day was just the same , the only difference being that Derek did not meet her for coffee as planned. How like men to forget appointments and not even care to send an explanatory note.
as night approached , she found herself getting scared. she was afraid to go to sleep , lest the dream should come again. she resolved to spend the night watching tv but the futility of it all soon descended on her. how long would she go sleepless, in fear of some dream. she switched off the tv and went to bed.
somewhere in the deep sleep, she stirred. she was dreaming again. she was at the room with the sculpted God. but this time she wasnt alone. the room was filled with people dressed in odd, flowing robes of black. as she walked down the central aisle , everyone moved apart on either side of her to let her pass.. she was stared at in awe and there was a certain amount of reverence in their gazes. someone stuck out a hand and tore a piece of fabric from her robe. she looked down to find that she wasnt wearing the odd robe. she was dressed in a golden robe that sparkled like the sun. she reached the platform that lay directly in front of the God. there stood a man who obviously adorned a greater position compared to the folk who thronged the room below. at once, something odd about the room struck her. here , there were no lights. but still it had the look of being dimly lit. she looked around for the source of light and found two large mirrors which reflected the moonlight that fell from a hole in what should be the ceiling of the room. she was escorted to a low table in front of the god and the priest turned. she gasped as she realised that the priest's face bore a curious resemblance to Derek. she was laid down on the table. the priest came close and looked at her. he had his eyes covered with a thin black veil...she wondered if he could see her. he mumbled something in a language she did not know. but her intuition told her that it was a prayer uttered in such force that she knew it was a final prayer. even before she knew a brilliant sparkle illuminated the room. the men scurried to the shadowy corners , their eyes covered with their hands in the dazzle. she got up and ran away from the room , away from the carved, silver hilted sword that would soon have worked its way into her insides........stumbling along the dark corridors she moved to a source of light that seemed to be growing larger. she soon found out the exit....the hole that would lead her out of the fort. looking from the exit, in the moonlight, she spotted shore not very far away. as she waited, the tide withdrew, exposing a cobbled pathway that led to the shore. she ran as fast as her soggy costume would allow her.
she woke up drenched in sweat and found that she was clutching a piece of fabric in her hand, a piece which she had torn from her dress just like someone had done in her dream.

The soothing tones of Sreeragam

music has always had the quality to soothen ruffled nerves. the different ragas blend together melodiously to create an atmosphere of leisure, calm and happiness. my favourite is the sreeragam. supposed to be the raaga in which the rain falls, this ragam has a special feel associated with it... the same feel associated with falling rain. going beyond the realms of classical music, i quite recently realised that most film songs i liked were composed in this raaga.
some compositions in this raaga: 1. entharo mahanubhavulu
2. etho varmukilin
3. neelaravil innu
4.ravin nila
5. oru chempaneer
6.pooncholai kiliye
7. karuna cheyvaan

The boring Seven

atlast the seventh semester is here....time does move fast. the start gave a lot to be desired. the move from the spacious, airy s5 s6 class with two doors( placed at strategic locations) to the stuffy, dark s7 s8 class was truly disheartening. this led to a considerable decline in the time we spent inside the class. we got a taste of the placement drama when thoughtworks came to campus and left without recruiting anyone. and the subjects......better left unsaid. none of them seem to be interesting and the two electives i wanted to take were cancelled( as luck would have it) due to lack of interested takers. the teachers...well a lot to be said in this regard. we have a set of new teachers this sem and except for sumam mam we dint know how the others fared. but the bubble burst soon enough. the first class found us fairly expectant ... the teacher was ambily mam. my previous acquaintance with her wasnt very encouraging. she accompanied us to 'starwars' and left us at the railway station and went home leaving us to fend for ourselves. she seemed like a frightened rabbit in a lions cage as she came to our class and taught(theoretically) a lot of unimportant stuff. neetha mam was quiet and smiling but her opening sentence was 'those who arent interested can leave the class' which disquietened the prevalent high spirits. sumam mam was her usual smiling self with her usual entrance and exit lines delivered to perfection. she told about VLSI exactly what she told about SSD and AC. the exit line was a gratifying' u r the best s7 class ever' which was delivered a bit unconvincingly.

and then the much awaited class arrived. the one of Suresh .k. he was supposedly an intellectual being with a thourough knowledge of the subject acquired through vast reading and research. we were given to believe that his class was ' the ultimate'. and when it did happen it was 'the ultimate koora'. for one thing he looked everywhere except at the class. so while he taught the tree outside the window , the door , the ceiling and the floor, we were left to follow our own pursuit of happiness. sadly it was a double hour.the first half hour i heard every word in the hope that the class would soon 'evolve'. half an hour hence, when things did not seem to be taking a turn for the better, i gave up and lost myself. after several transmission losses and returns and what seemed like an eternity of teaching i looked at the watch to find that only five minutes were past. then we engaged in the game of looking at each others faces and laughing at our own predicament. sir was droning on about probability. if david sir had killed probability for us , this man took it out of its grave and stabbed it multiple times. i watched sadly as yet another subject went down the drain in two hours time. but he left quite an impression on us. we all liked the person, approved of his wide knowledge but believed teaching wasnt quite his profession.the ritual of forming a project team followed and after multiple takes, one got fixed. then came the hunt for a seminar topic and a project guide. classes were boring and happened regularly while the applied batch NEVER had any class. my friends were getting irritable, twitchy and nervy of recent times .the same feelings would have come over me but i found refuge in food and sleep. while things arent going very well on the college side, everything was getting better in the family side and after many years , i like sitting at home better than going to college .

the end

story ends abruptly due to lack of imagination!

chapter 2: Haunting

She woke up with a start. it was the same dream again. the same place.... the tall inaccessible fort with the sea surrounding it lashing onto the shore in all its fury...the sense of foreboding that hung about the place, the odd carved faces that inhabited the stone walls speaking of a bygone era.....she broke into a sweat..... recurring dreams were bad. though she wasnt superstitious , there was something she did not like about this recurrence. This was the third time the same place had shown itself in her dream. and as she had done the twice previously, she tried to imagine every possible place where she would have seen this fort .....surely it should have got absorbed into her subconscious from somewhere... as before she drew a blank.

the first time she saw it, it was a temple. she was walking through the one of the myriad paths that branched off the main vein and came across a room from whence issued the sound of gushing water.she followed the sound and turned a corner ... and found herself one step away from a deep pool... the stagnant waters lay enticing, licking at her feet ...waiting to embalm her into its folds......the shock had woken her up then.
the next time, though , she got further. she went straight to the room and this time , as she rounded the corner , she was aware of a tny flickering light beyond the shadows ... the light disappeared as she turned the corner and before her eyes she saw a large piece of rock carved in the shape of some primitive god. She did not know what god it was and to which religion it belonged but somehow , she knew it was God and needed to be viewed with deference. there was a huge waterfall that send water spraying into all directions , forming a thick veil, a curtain of water in front of the sculpted piece of stone. she had awaken then .

chapter 1: A Dream

The fort stood tall and imposing , yet tucked away from view of many a prying eye......it lay solid and strong, a huge chunk carved out of the mountain, the world around ignorant of its magnetic presence , all except the sea whose waves crashed in onto its alluring depths , blocking the stony path that leads into its mysterious interiors.
it had been there for ages, the master work of the searing waves, polished to perfection by years of moving water, chiselling out large crevices , moulding the giant pillars and forming a maze beneath the towering columns. The walls were tall and hid the dim interiors from view, but the water rose above them and spilt over into the inner sanctum of the fort , which held the water in a deep, stagnant abyss...there was an eerie silence around with the fall of the gushing water richochetting off the massive stone walls.....
the only path that gained entrance to the fort was long buried by the waves...yet when the tide was low, the waters parted , as if torn apart by an invisible hand... and the stony path emerges into view...

Destiny

Is it my fate that the crystal holds?
or is what it holds my fate?

I look at the sun,breathing out fire,
so stern in its life, biding its time
and say ' it is destined'.

Then I look at the birds, free in their paths
not bound to the earth, flying in will,
and say 'it is we who destine'.

When things go wrong, luck deserts
I curse God for steering me so
when success shines, luck stays by
I praise myself for my deeds

Do we live out a life,crafted before
by some hand, mighty and strong.
or do we live out our life, do our deeds
and the hands of time take it down so.