Thursday, 25 April 2019

The Curved Blades

The bland red hilt covered in dust. The inscriptions from an ancient age, the meanings of which long forgotten, mostly hidden due to the sticky grains having a reddish green tinge.

The textured feel of the hilt had a smooth but firm grip to it. It could be easily slipped from the hand just like butter? Whatever butter was? On the other side, it had the tenacity to stick to the hand. Twas as if the hilt wanted to be covered by warm hands due to the cold life its metal formation gave it.

The end of the hilt was supported by a pommel so round that it felt squarely in place. It had the right amount of concentric circles with an inscription in the middle. The pommel had a contrasting shiny yet dark red hue to it.

The opposite side of the hilt was guarded, by the guard. To be precise, it guarded the holder of the hilt more than the hilt. The guard was thinner but long having upward curved ends. Its curves helped an attacker's blade get stuck on it as if interlocking the blade and not letting it go....

It wasn't as detailed as the hilt but its steel was of a colder form more to the likeness of the blade it separated from the hilt. The ends of the guard had an alien decoration features of which felt like a gaping creature. The eyes of the creature had the same inscription as the pommels. Could it be that the pommel's inscription was a button for the gaping poisonous breaths?

The blades, emanating the coldest stare from the sword with a very artistic and curvy fuller. The fuller had the most fun of the blood the blade soaked, as it let it flow through it. Though the edges did most of the work, being the sharpened portion of the family. They with the side of the blade enjoyed the cutting and slicing. When they passed through things, it felt like they were cutting butter. What's with the butter again? Whatever butter is?

The blades were medium sized to an average alien, or maybe person. Warmer their hands better the blade felt as the hilt passed the warmth through. The tip and sides could cut even the strongest metal with a touch. Probably even the air around them, if need be.

Beside the blade, its sister blade lay, it was a twin but they had their curse. When a single one was used to strike the opponent, the other grew shorter, while the striking blade grew longer. It was a slight change but that happened steadily. If both were struck at the same moment, they stayed at the same length.

The smaller a blade grew, the warmer the hilt felt. The warmer it felt, the colder its needs grew. It formed its intent to burn the holder ever so slightly if that happened. The burn could be double-edged of nature. Slowly seeping life from the owner but also burning others through a damage attribute or a burning projectile from their hands when pushed through the air? Was it a curse then or a blessing? It still burns though.... These cursed blades.....

© Aditya Subramanian, 2019

Tuesday, 10 November 2015

The Paper Wall

The wooden board clamped to the wall was filled with colorful strips of paper. Beside it were more paper which were all stuck to the wall. The whole view looked beautiful.

The strips of paper were of varying sizes, shapes, and colours. From squares, to slender and fat rectangles, to circulars to even a penta-star. Some were shaped in itself like notebooks while others had tiny little graphs pointing from one to the other in a complex manner which seemed like an interconnected transportation system.

The wall's creamish colour gave off the contrasting colours very well. While the wooden board did the same effect for the strips of paper. Looking into the small strips the viewer observed squiggly lines forming up letters which in turn formed into words having a meaning to the person it was of and they helped her to be focused on the current situation.

The eyes turning their observation to the table on which the viewer was seated beside and writing this observation which was near the wall had lots of small and large stuff. For example, a bag, small cans, tissues, laptops, and even a "mouse". All of which were set on the table and being handled presently by the person this setup of was.

This setup with the paper wall was a delight to watch in terms of the wall art and the story it told and the person managing it the story maker.

© Aditya Subramanian, 2015

Saturday, 7 November 2015

The Skeletal Kingdom

I was sleeping in my bed and rolling around on it. While, I was having a dream where I saw a skeletal kingdom underneath my bed. I saw their massive skeletal structures and bony creatures roaming through their rectangular paths which got crooked feels due to the crookedness of the bones they were made of.

When I woke up, still half in sleep, I curious about my dream tried to look underneath the bed. What I saw scared me and made me cry of fright. My first observance was of red blooded cotton rounds dropping from the spiked teeth of one of the creatures as it was trying to eat some fluffy animal.

I shifted my gaze towards another creature which seemed silent in looks at first but then suddenly bluish lights started shining from inside its skeletal heart with the glow in its eyes becoming from a light to a dark blue glare. Unable to keep focus due to those visual sights, my gaze turned towards a skeletal tower which had lights glowing similar to the other creatures. It felt like it was trying to signal some ship lost in the sea beyond. But then suddenly a giant lizard, as skeletal as the other inhabitants, which was looming behind that tower, licked its poisonous tongue against the enormous tower and melting it to nothingness.

Whatever flesh it had inside of it was starkly visible to me and this was good enough to scare me more than I could handle. I immediately got up, eyes wide awake, and switched on my bedroom lights and looked underneath the bed to confirm as to what I had seen.

What made me surprised were the glow in the dark toys I had from long ago which had been pushed under there and got lost and forgotten.

I realized that the dream was successful in its effort to remind me of those toys by using fear as a stimulant to give back the memories of those glow in the dark skeletal toys of mine..

© Aditya Subramanian, 2015

Monday, 6 April 2015

The Heart-Breaker Kid

There was once a kid who liked to have all the experiences in the world. It was ignorant of the fact of how it affected other's feelings. It always enjoyed its time and made everyone happy but it also had an annoying habit of chatting with someone continuously. At any place and at any time it could open its mouth like some kind of a recommend-er system. It 'recommended' stuff before it knew it what is going to be talked, asked, or told about. It had quite a few friends who would ideally recommend what is to be done in a situation. It understood and still neglected it.

One day it met a sweet kid with whom it felt wanting to keep chatting, even if it meant to annoy the other kid to the extreme that the friends of that kid came to shelter it. There was also a unique relationship between that kid and one of its friends and it was one made with the heart and not the mind, or whatever the saying was.

The annoying kid got a clean and simple message that if it went ahead with its annoyance then it will be breaking many hearts including its own. It became scared and ran away from the new sweet kid who was still willing to be a good friend, which is what is needed in life, but how was it supposed to understand the way the world goes and how it needs to come out of its blind annoying world.

It, rather, chose to stay with its friends, shielded by the blinds rather than, say, yes to being a good new friend. How could it be a good friend after being an annoying pest or more of a stalker to that sweet kid?

It did not want to break someone's heart for the purpose of the experience. Although it was maybe a heart-breaker kid never to get the correct connection in a heart-full way with someone.

The experience that matters is the experience that matters or, was it, what matters is the experience of what matters? This is what it felt now. It was quite heartless in feelings it guessed. Rather be a fixer than a breaker? But how could it undo what it did?

The thoughts formed forever in that memory leaking brain of its. And so the heart-breaker kid sat pondering.....

© Aditya Subramanian, 2015

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

The Musical Flow

A huge rock formation stood beside a pool of water. Tall trees guarded it like warriors. The sunlight scattered through the leaves and the water reflected it with brilliance. On the other side of the rock was a vast water body. A stream of water flowed from it through the rocks and fell down into the pond from different areas. Some from inside the holes between the rocks and other from above.

Many birds of varying sizes and colours were perched on branches of the trees in that area. Their chirping sounds were echoing in the calm forest. Every bird's chirping was different and there were monkeys too which rested on the tree tops. A man who was trekking in that forest came upon that area and sat down to rest under a tree.

The eyes were closed but the ears stayed open and what it listened to after a while was imaginative.

At first, the ears caught hold of the sound of the falling down of the different strings of water. Each of the different sources from which the water fell made sounds that differed, be it slightly, from the other in make as well as the timing. It was quite unusual at first but the un-usuality gradually decreased as the chirping of the birds filled some of the gaps, which also varied in tones and timing.

Next to fall in place was the soft sound from the movement of the trees due to the breeze in the air. Lastly the clamour from the monkeys at random times also made it amusing.

It went on for a while as the ears kept itself alert to every sound made, high and low and fast and slow. It was the best music which had ever been recorded by these ears.

The downstream of the music was beautiful.....