Satan's revenge

Dark smoke filled the Arab sky, the smell of flesh and plastic spread all around us. Sirens of ambulances and fire engines roared, dozens of helicopters and jets flew low above us. A second explosion, this time even fierce than the primary one, it was so powerful that I could hear just a high pitch whistle. I turned behind and saw a large tower of fire ready to fall on us.

I woke up to find destruction and havoc everywhere. Dad was holding me and mom was squeezing my brother. We were around 9 and 7, the once in a lifetime pilgrimage had turned into a warzone. Mecca was covered in endless destruction, a fire broke out in the far end of the city that spread like a wild fire over the tent village, acres of tents were burning in mid air. Ten kilometers of live fire and we were lucky to be out of the blaze.

We made our way to the refuge camps at the other end of the city. Dad turned on the radio and heard that fre broke out in the devils tomb during the ritual of stoning the devil. I later heard more than 300 people died and more than thousands were seriously injured.

Eventhough, we lost our belongings, mom was still keen to complete the pilgrimage. While from that day onwards, I began to have deja vus.

Limerence

Limerence is sometimes also referred to as infatuation. In common speech, infatuation includes aspects of immaturity and extrapolating from insufficient information, and is usually short-lived. This part of my story is a bit forward in time, a bit too forward in time. I didn't want to write a yearly memo of my life, I wanted to include those that are too close to my heart.

Infatuation, chronic infatuation, propably due to intense affection that I recieved from everyone, or propably due to the fact that I am one of those people that have the god Emor in them. The ability to make someone pay attention to me or want to know me a little more. Intimidation as one of my victims called it.

Some of you might be lost, or just can't understand. I'll explain some of those moments that I can remember-

I watched her walking on the sand, the beach was lit with golden rays of the sunset. Her face was shining, illuminated by this vibrant dusk. I never felt like this before in my life, I couldn't stop looking at her. So, I approached her, and stood there numb. She smiled, my heart rose and I gained the courage to say " Hi ! ". We had a 5 year long relationship, broken only to the fact that I had to respond to the complex social question and irresponsible family relationship. 5 long year wouldn't be an infatuation. I have no explainations. Sorry

I did'nt feel down nor did I felt any heartache. Things took a different turn just a week later after the broke up. I thank democracy, respect our right to strike, to halt daily life in order to raise demand. I don't remember what the strike was for, but I knew that there were no mode of transpportation except school buses, and I was to old to sit with primary school children. So, I decided to walk, thats when I met her. One look, that was all to rise the inner Krishna in me. This time, the girl came up to me and asked me if I could walk her to school. We lasted two years.

I'll post my other infatuations later on. keep reading.

Along came a stork

I haven't included any personal information, or detailed descriptions. There is no chronology in my timeline. The gulf war had come to an end. I knew who Saddam and George Bush was, but never got to see their pictures. There was also an alert of tamil tigers in the state. I asked grandma what a tamil tiger looked like, and she said "they are half man half tiger". I wasn't happy with what she said nor did I like the idea of half things. She had betrayed me with the thread, but I still went to her when I needed anwsers, a guru of infinite ridiculus wisdom.

And then, a stork came with one of my kind but even smaller and one of the biggest eyes i've ever seen. Mom was even tired after this new household came, we had midnight panics, ofcourse he was to be blamed. This new attention wasn't really pleasant, and I rebelled only to be crushed by mom.

I wasn't Stewie Griffin or Dexter to manipulate my toys to construct a weapon. Things changed when mom's sister arrived and she was to stay with us. This was a quick relief for me as I got time with mom and grandma. Small mom, as I called her looked after my brother. She took care of him like I played with my toys. We didn't have anymore midight panics after that, nor did I plan any guerrilla tactics.

facing fear

Moving forward, 3 years later I knew who dad was and he was alive which I was very grateful for. He wasn't like mom, physically or mentally. They were the exact opposite of each other. I used to remember him carrying me on his shoulders and taking me to the street stalls buying anything that I pointed my fingers to. I was liking this a lot, especially he gets a lot fun at night when he got drunk. He was not like thos people who get drunk and cause chaos in the house. Dad became a whole new person at night, enthusiastic, optimistic, childish, less serious, endless laughter.

When his holiday leave was over and he left, our house would be dead, literally dead. Mom would miss him a lot and would often have nightmares of him in the war. This was getting out of hand, when she got a fever and we had to visit the doctor, but instead of going to a doctor, we went to a mosque. We met this priest who had the longest beard I've ever seen in my life. He gave mom a thread and another one for me but with a steel pendant in the middle.

I asked grandma who took us to this weird beard, why the thread was for and she said it was to face fear. I was amazed by the anwser, and I felt that nothing could bother me now, not even the watchman who goes by our house everyday.

I can clearly remember that day, a summer evening when this man around dads age came to our house. I was happily sitting in the verandah alone with my toys, he came up to me and snatched of my necklace and ran. I got up and went to mom who was busy in the kitchen. Mom looked at me and asked whats wrong and I replied " A man snatched my necklace and I didn't get afraid mom, the thread worked, now I don't fear anyone". I really don't like to explain the aftermath, but I'll tell you one thing, that an innocent man got the beating of his life.

Thanks Beardie.

one in billions

I have a habbit of never finishing of what I started, anyway I decided to go forward and write an autobiography. I am not famous nor will i ever be, that does not mean that it might not happen. So, someone who has nothing of an extra-ordinary in their life, might add a little bit of fiction in to their stories to add life, readable actually.

So, there was I, lying next to the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world. She looked at me, kissing me now and then. I held her finger and she kept murmuring " are you real, you are a piece of cloud, love you so much my sweetheart ". We looked into each others eyes and I felt so secure and happy.

The next thing I remember was a lady in white picking me up and placing me on a cold steel table, she took out a small sharp knife and cut my belly. The horror shocked me to sleep.

When I was returned, I saw my beautiful woman lying in bed and weeping. She took me up and held me against her heart, I could feel her beat against me and that brought me to tears. She looked into my eyes and said " your dad is in middle of a war, the Americans are bombing mercilessly ". Someone grabbed me from behind and placed me in their hands. This time, a bigger lady and she said " Stop mourning like a widow, the war is in kuwait, and he is in Saudi ".