The Burden of Command

To wield these stars and to hold his medals, to don this cap and to fill this chair. There are many things in life that may be happy but this is not one of those. To do is not an option, it is the only thing that destiny has in store. Either this or walk away. The latter is worse than death. The Command has its power and its status so does it has a large baggage that has to be dragged to ones grave. Nor the salutes nor the Laurels does anything to ease the pain, but persists an humble remainder of all that is to be dragged along alone.

There are times when the facets are to be put up, even when you desperately desire that you would be spared, you have to do it. The dictum is such that the failure to perform is unacceptable, even when it means to put everything you believe in to put at the front line. There are times when great men will be fools and hearts of steel will start to melt. No matter how high the principles be held, the man in the matter is but human. There are times heart remains a heart and there are times the head refuses to comply. But still the weights upon ones should bear down you as albatrosses from yet another tale.

Leadership is a quality that is tested and retested every now and then. It is not the making of the man it is breaking of man again and again such that he is immune to this pain of severance. To remain intact at times of peril is not an option, not when there are men who depend on you, not when they look up to you and not when they refuse to bow down just because you manage to hold it together, it is a necessity. The life that is yours is no longer just yours, there are other who willingly surrendered theirs to yours, just because they do believe it you who can hold their together with far more force than they can. They believe in you and with that come responsibility. You are not you anymore you are the culmination of all their interests and the holder of the higher truth.

It is not for you to not to fail, It is for you to fail as equally as it is for you to win. It is about you never letting them down, who willingly let themselves be lead. It is for you to never give up on anyone and hold it up for them; It is for you to see the light when the herd has lost its eye. It is for you not to believe but make believe the ones behind. To lead is a great feeling, but it is not about the celebration but about conducting it so that everyone can enjoy and in their enjoyment you can enjoy. It do feel great.

One thing that is asked of the leader that is most difficult to perform is the use of the whip. There are times, times you are given no other resort, but to crack the whip. Every single act of harshness you provide has a toll on you, every now and then you have to raise your voice there is a part of you sinking. To love is to be a good leader but to beat them up and make them strong calls for a great leader. He can inspire and so he can command, He can praise them and with the same hand crack the whip upon them. Yet at the hands of a great leader they feel no pain nor no grudge just the desire to correct themselves and lead a path of righteousness. Their feelings have to be upheld and they protected, but at the same time a mask is forced upon our face that shields the real one with a sterner perfect leader.

Yes it calls for a great leader so do should one selves, none is made a leader they are born, not from the mother’s womb but from the amongst of you and I. There is a leader in every one of us, a leader who shall rise when the time calls for him. When he is really to fly, he shall rally men and pick up momentum. When this do happen to you, call upon him , cheer him, cherish him because he not only can change you but can change the world.

Breaking Away . . .

Severance is a pain that we all invest in. Every day, every hour, Year after year we live in its shadow. It’s not something we choose it’s something that’s forced upon us. Yet chose not to rebel, we conveniently forget to fight, we take it on our shoulder and bear with it with finesse. The matter is delicate often so delicate that acknowledging it in itself is a herculean task in itself. The pain and anxiety that it causes is great, yet we decide it’s not time to give up hope yet.

It causes immense pain, but why do me, you and everyone we know prefer to live with it and fear the freedom the lack of these chains offer. Why does freedom, boundless and absolute, of colors more vibrant than the rainbows scare us? Why do we prefer the strong yet ephemeral fortitudes to the wonderful world of boundless possibility?  These are not the questions we ask ourselves every day; these are the question we come across in those times that we are truly left on our own. These are question we ask when we truly at our weakest. These are questions we ask when we lose those things we endured all those torture for. These are the questions we ask when we actually realize the transience of our ‘Perfect World’. The questions are harmless in a way, but they are the ones that truly know when to strike.

But no matter how many time we come across, other than those few who turn unacceptable to the society finds their way back into the cobwebs of comfyness they have already knitted for them. They find their way back as the lost ant finds it way back into the swarm. The allure and pseudo -opulence this world offers seems to surpass the many flaws it seems to possess.  We never even bother to ask ourselves whether this is what they want. Is there heart to torn open again and again? Is the abyss the best place they can ever afford to have?

Then again, is that the case? Even when you feared the inevitable, there was hope, there was pleasure and there was happiness. The little things in life that many preach, Aren’t they the ones that make life worthwhile. Life many not be perfect, in fact life may not be even fair, yet there are those moments in life that gives joy sans boundaries. Aren’t we living for those few moments, aren’t we working hard in the day so that we could return to the loving families. Don’t those weekends with the family make as pray every hour for the week to get over. Be it the sip of coffee or that one game, Aren’t they what we live for? Yes there are perils, there are dangers and there are evil lurking in every corner, yet don’t we live for that all these, these few little things that make life worth living?

But remember one thing dear friends, There is a better; life out there, there is a life where we can have the best of both worlds. There is a life were we do not have to make compromises and yet live the life that we dream of every single day. Believe me when I say there is a life where you don’t have to make up excuses to keep the family together. There is a life where love and fear, pleasure and sin, happiness and crime and Life and Lies do not come in pairs.

A Lone Man’s Journal: Rupertt Aryeen WInd

Surviving Today

Days are moving on at snail’s pace and to live through them is the most horrifying proposition to live with. The acts are not measurable in anything worth and time spend is not things gained. The methods are questionable but the object is clear. This would have been a better case had not been that the objective was to survive the day.

There are things you could do with your life that the whole world may deem as wastage of one’s time. But there are things that the world is yet to learn of you, there are secrets that are buried deep within you that the world doesn’t know exists. But one thing is there, one should be convinced of ones stand at the very least. It is difficult to convince others of a school of thought when one himself is in self-doubt. This conviction is what differentiates an action of need from an action of passion.

Passion has driven, and will drive men for many more years to come. It is this passion that has made the space and tech possible. The world when refuses to see you as someone, it is up to you to succumb to the marginalized life being proposed or you could rise above them and break free. You could do things with life that would show them that you are more than just talk. The world has ways, ways to kill of the things that it sees as competition. It is not a reason to not to try, it is but just one more reason to try harder and succeed.

Even as all that is said is said, there are time you become powerless, so powerless that you are confined to some mediocrity. There are places you find yourself, where you have to live through it, even if it is fathoms below your level of performance. To live through them is a horror for some. But for some it does something even more sinister. It kills them. It kills their skill and eventually they realize they are just that good. They refuse to see their potential that they once knew they possessed. They suicide to the demeaning life.

It is at this time, I stand. With thoughts creeping in like weeds. Thoughts that can take out the mighty and get them begging on their knees. The evil ones, the bad ones and the crippling ones. I know I am good, I know I am better than most, but to hold on to that single haystick in the polluting ocean of thoughts. Now that is a challenge. I can rise above it and be crowned the next king of France of fall below and drown to the dark depths of misery and monotony. The melancholically of this life is evident, Sun neither rises here nor the moon basks us in its radiance. The eeriness of a graveyard and the loneliness of the dark forests. With nothing but the skies to guide. To live through today… Hmm that’s the task ahead.

A Lone Man’s Journal: Rupertt Aryeen WInd

Mommy! Why can’t I have a Dog?

There is no surprise here, it’s not the first time that I have asked and It’s not the first time she said no. That doesn’t mean I can’t keep on asking does it? Even I wonder why I just don’t get a dog and not keep asking; surely I don’t get an answer for that too. There you have it, A question that I have been asking for so long and an answer I am as accustomed to as the question.

It all started way back, when I was in lower grades. There was one particular advertisement by the mobile company ‘Hutchison Erikson’ or Hutch then. They had a particularly cute dog chasing after a boy in it. The dog was so cute, cuddly and friendly, that I wanted one ever since. So the same evening my Mom came home and I asked her “mommy, mommy can I have a doggy”. She didn’t even looked surprised, maybe she added it to the long list of things that I usually keep asking. And of course she gave me an instantaneous no for that.

Somehow, over the years the idea of owning a dog stuck with me, I always wanted to own a dog and always kept asking my mom for one.  There were multiple times I asked her why she would not give me a dog for a birthday present or a Christmas present or something of that sort. But anything but doggy she kept on saying ‘no dog’. Then as I grew up I decided to take things on my own hand and said I will get a dog. She kept saying ‘no doggy kiddo’. Since she was always against the idea of a dog, I was particularly interested in having one.

So not us!

Other than the fact that I am a getting older by the years, I never got myself to get a dog. Every time I watch a dog on screen, I want a dog in home. My girlfriend had a dog in her house which she was terrified of, I wonder why they kept that dog. She has some kind of a phobia towards dogs. To tell the truth even I have no hope of owning a dog, whenever I decide to go get one I get goose bumps. My mom’s voice starts playing in my head. ‘Having a dog is huge responsibility, you have to feed it, you have to wash it, clean it, scrub it, you have to vaccinate it’ and so on. She makes it sound as if it harder to own a dog that to send a rocket into outer space.

Anyhow! Even I can’t see myself owning a dog in near future. With a dog phobic girlfriend, who will be my fiancé in less than a couple of years and if god permits my wife in another couple of years and a overly cautious and anti-doggy mother’s voice in the head. I can’t see any possibility of having a dog. After all breaking up with a girl just over a dog is not right, is it?

The Death of A Nobody

It feels ridiculous that I write about it. it is completely insane that you have to mourn about the death of a person whom u barely knew. In fact her death didn’t even get me thinking in the cliques. I had not thought of the afterlife, neither have I thought of the reality of mortality. In fact it hasn’t gotten me thinking at all. That’s why I most certainly must write about it. It does bother me that her death didn’t bother me.

And who was she? I am not keeping any surprises here; It is not a thriller, it just a true piece and I could get myself to write a literary piece. It’s not that I don’t want to, I always wanted to but eventually they turn up something altogether different. But of course where were we. Yes! Her, she was my neighbor, and that’s all. She was my neighbors, whom I hardly saw and I hardly talked to. There she would be most afternoons sitting in patio, staring at the evening sky. I always thought she might be waiting for her dead husbands return, I always thought of it to be very romantic. But, I suppose she didn’t have anything much to do than stare at the afternoon sun.

It’s been eleven years now, since I moved in. The neighborhood has quite and passive, it did not have the great athletes or the outlandishly gorgeous girls in it. It was an ordinary neighborhood with ordinary people living in it. It’s an ideal place for honest people making honest living, and the one thing that I adored the most since I moved in was… ‘No one cared’. But then there were some who did their bit and she was one of them. She never pried but she always inquired. In the eleven years of being neighbors she came calling hardly twice, once it was with the invitation for her grandchild’s wedding and the second, I can hardly remember why she came the second time. Most of her acquaintance was my mother which was on a strictly ‘we chat on the street when we see’ basis.

She was there ever since I remember my new home, she was there when we had the moving in and she was there when my granddad moved in nearby. Of course I never cared enough to enquire. But I do remember her; I remember seeing every day sit in her patio. She would be there watching the birds and the trees, feeling the wind and the air and when she had a couple of children in her household, she had herself an upgrade. Now she used spend her time watching them play in their courtyard. I know those punks; they were naughty and way out of their minds. They were so themselves that they could drive any man so crazy that they would want to change their permanent residence to St. Claire’s. Oh! For those of who don’t know, that’s an asylum. If u still don’t know what I am talking about let’s just say it’s a place where they keep people with very serious issues.

It’s understandable, on second thought not even worth thinking twice, it’s just obvious why she would just sit and watch them run in circles as they were orbiting some imaginary planet. But, that what she was and that’s all she was. She was the woman who sat by her patio every evening watching her grandchildren play. And then she dies, just like than one day, I get a call and my mom says she is no more. Oh sure she didn’t put it that dry, She called in and said “Dear, Do you remember the old lady across the street? She just passed away”. She said it subtle and simple, but still the same thing.

I don’t miss her and I could care less. But to tell you the truth, if that was all I wouldn’t be writing this anyway, would I? The fact is something feel void now, Come on, till a couple of days ago she was there and now she’s not. Every time I look at that house, it immediately strikes me, it’s not just something misplaced, and it’s rather something missing. The event and the relation might be much less stronger. She is dead and she is not going to comeback. It’s not hard to accept that, nevertheless I did just finish writing about it. I had no idea what I had to write when I began and I have no idea where I stand now, but I did write and I wrote it all. May her soul rest in peace.