Friday, 30 May 2014 11 comments

The One Who'd Save The Day




"The great gift of human beings is that we have the power of empathy..."
 - Meryl Streep


 Superheroes. Wow!

Aren’t they something? When we were kids, we were all fascinated by superheroes. I know I was. Still am. Mention one person who isn’t. There was a time when I even gave some serious thought to how I could turn into Batman.

Or Batgirl in my case.

If I was to be made into a superhero, I’d love to be a mixture of so many superpowers. Like Milo Ventimiglia’s character on Heroes.

Then I would snuggle close to all the X-Men characters that I’ve cherished ever since I was a kid and absorb their powers too. Can you imagine what it would be like to be able to change your form like Mystique, possess telekinetic powers like Jean Grey, be a telepath like Professor Xavier, and rip bad guys apart like Wolverine, all at once? Or I could just chat up Spiderman or Superman, befriend The Invisible Woman and have their respective powers! But I’d never get too close to someone like Sasquatch. Orange and furry is not really my style. Or even Hulk for that matter (I’m sorry but a guy who turns into a giant and still retains his underpants is a LITTLE too preposterous – even for a superhero).

Okay MAYBE I’m asking for a little too much.

But seriously, like most people I’ve always been fascinated with flying. The thought of having wings and being able to fly is so tempting. The ability to be able to soar to places known and unknown, to glide over blue skies and explore the world in all its glory. 

Like a pageant winner I would say that I would make a difference to the world. Isn’t that what superheroes are for?

I think the first mental sketched of a superhero would have definitely been the result of a vent. He/she may have wanted to create an alternate reality where good triumphed over evil and with aplomb, a world where good begets good, and where one could proudly say that No! Bad things DO NOT happen to good people! And that damage done CAN BE REVERSED. It would’ve provided an escape from the harsh reality that we bear witness to every single day. It opens a doorway to the possibility of a better universe than ours. Because at the end of the day we humans are the sole creatures who rely on that uncertain glimmer of hope.

Ever the hopeful… 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Friday, 23 May 2014 7 comments

Happy Place





She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw what was in front of her.

Her happy place.

The long lost lagoon she had visited a long time ago. No, eons ago.

It was just like she’d seen it. It hadn’t lost its sanctity. It was still the purest and most beautiful sight she had ever laid eyes on. She was afraid the place would never be the same. It would be encroached by her kind the next time she ever visited the place. If she ever had a chance to visit.

But its beauty remained intact. It wasn’t exploited as was the custom with human beings.
Her feet were bare and she smiled as the sand tickled her soles. Her irises mirrored the vast blue-green expanse in front of her. The water seemed calm like it had been the day she’d seen it the first and last time. The endlessly azure skies reflected in them and she marveled as the breeze first greeted the trees surrounding the pool of water before meeting her, caressing her neck. She’d tried in vain to travel to this place in her mind whenever she was alone but always failed. Miserably. And now she was here. Somehow she was here. It must be some kind of magic.

As if to confirm her suspicions, a knowing hand stroked her back. Her smile widened as she felt the stubble prick the skin on her shoulder where he rested his chin. His arms curled around her waist as he stood behind her watching the exquisiteness that Nature had bestowed there.

They stood there for a long time. Not saying anything. There are places, times, instances, circumstances where words play a crucial role and sometimes they’re just not necessary. This was one of those moments. And it was fleeting. Just like everything else.

This was magic indeed. She was on the most magnificent place on Earth with the one who held her captive. He was right there, with her. She could touch him, feel the warmth that he radiated, she could hear him breathing, humming a song - she hadn’t heard but liked instantly - in her ear. It was all she’d ever wanted. Then in the slightest and softest of whispers he said what she had longed to hear for years. The words that made her heart ache every time she thought of them.

A loud honking from a car speeding down the road awoke her from her deep slumber with a start. Tears streaked her face as she sat on her bed.

“A nightmare?” a concerned voice probed.

“No, it was a good dream,” she uttered as she ran towards the bathroom to hide her face.

It was a magic, indeed. The most beautiful trick she had ever witnessed.

“Those eyes,
Those treacherous eyes,
That committed the unpardonable offense of dreaming,
Giving wings of capability to incapable envisioning…”

 This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

 
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