Wednesday, December 21, 2016


All creatures of this world have managed to indulge in there primal instincts other than one. Some might swindle, some just mind their own routine, others crave solace and so most of all have let these instinct take over and survived the longest but human has chased perfection, they single handedly combine all these instinct that each of their own individual personalities have. A indistinct mutation to the essential order of nature itself, carving on intuitions and hopes of better future or tomorrow as they might say. The nature of things in their essence of physicality, that this world has to offer have always been as simple as picking up a stick of the ground. How do they do this?, or is it just what they know might be a question, which doesn't arise much but because no one likes to asks much, it'll remain a mystery or more of a question for the infinite thoughts that roars in ones and all of human minds.

Choosing between the time and the desired destination is only a question when one wants that location to be the end to the journey, not when this desire can essentially can be a kind of restriction on either the time or location. Ways, roads, paths and routes that lead to where one wants to be, as one has choose them are also desire driven attempt. This is a trait humans grasp and unconsciously understand too well like a spell of their own making, that is making up for the non-instinctive yet an instinctive proclamation towards their own individual destiny and identity which they have safe guarded.

The waves of the western sea smashed across the deck of the row boat and sound of that rhythm was something that Ishva seemed to enjoy, this was the twelfth hour of the continuous rowing and course correction through compass. Boat-man kept his silence till now but not the winds, not the waves, not the birds, they always were in an incredible state of endless repetition that was never the same, having subtleties that keen senses would always enjoy. Seemingly, the happy tune that Ishva enjoy shattered when the boatman swiftly kept the oars inside the boat, with the rowing stopped silence downed and the tried boat-man continued his banter "The wear and tear of the wood in here needs to be taken care of, als....".

A long sign broke boat-man's steady look at the aft as his words stuck and vanished when he followed the line of sight of the man who was almost freeloading his boat. As the full prestige of this island with archaic and an arctic chill slid nearer in the faint moonlight, the glimpse of serenity filled the boat-man's vision and heart. The silent loomed over this piece of land as the boat drifted steadily towards the silvery shore and the boat drifted itself to it like a bee in love with flowers drawn to the nectar. The beach's shore line seemed shallow and once the boat stuck itself to the sand the duo willingly disembark off the champion boat as Ishva was told about the makeshift rowing contest that boat-man had won while he had rowed on for half a day.

The sounds went inaudible as Ishva looked at the moon and then back at the majestic island that he stood on. After a deep breath his thoughts were to take a long sleep, he looked back at the sea towards the mainland, his thoughts obscure to fatigued boatman as if comparing the indistinct difference in two places. The boat-man saw how Ishva went about scaling the shore and reading something off his books, "If reading had helped you row, I wouldn't be asking for money." He said shouting at the top of his voice, finally exhausted too much to even keep any decorum for Ishva to feel any less regret for the continuous labor.

Ishva turned to look over his shoulder and smiled meekly at this ill-informed fella feeling a bit guilt.

With big strides he walked about this lonely beach humming to himself picking up twigs and scraps of dried leaves and grass off the shore. The moonlight made a shadow of a huge monolith rock pointing in towards the island. The erect smooth falls, of this sea worn rock tower at periphery of the beach caught Ishva's attention more than a few times and so unconsciously the boat-man walked in straight to it.

Ishva still had his sling bag on him which was carefully tucked and buckled before he went of the boat, he dig into one of the pocket carefully taking out a set of keys which he tucked in on of the hooks over his sling bag. When he looked up the boat man imitating the still rock tower another smile broke on this elderly who didn't believe his age.

The loud shout that faded earlier was the only sound and with its death the waves breaking by the rock tower and winds have replaced just then the distant clings of the key ring on leather resounded. An anvil to mend iron, this is how Ishva felt the tower looked.

The blue moon light phased the boat-man and he followed the chimes of the keys which have formed a slow rhythm blending in with the whistling of winds. He saw Ishva now and couldn't understand why he appeared to disappear in the dark and murky expense of this unknown island the odd design of the rock which amazed him had vanished and he was about to roar a opinion the second time "Time is precious but resting well helps row for long." He seemed to have lost in his word and couldn't make out what he wanted to say clearly and that's when he saw the ferry vanish in by the corner opposite to the rock tower.

Ishva heard the proclamation and walked briskly towards the periphery of the bushy and dense island forest. Fatigue from the journey of constant rowing didn't bother him much, scent of lilies, roses and other flowers making up a high percent of the total shrubbery permitted in his nostrels with a long breadth and soft sigh. Venturing deep in the dark overgrowth at the darkest time of the day was not a choice but a necessity for Ishva,  the required twigs and essential gathering was mostly done by the edges but a extra supply of dry and juicy edibles demanded a little expedition. He looked around to fetch some fruits and berries from the overgrowth. The walk he took made the time fly and sleep vanished with the advent of the first beam of light, transcendent color of the rainbow scattered and grazed his eyes when sun rose steadily. Hushes of the forest inhabitants cooed out from around him.

As the overzealous ferry returned the sunlight pierced  the horizon and dazzled boat-man's eyes, he woke up with a grumble and yawned, the delight of fresh air stuck his head for the first time.  "I be leaving now, ju.," another interception from the exceptionally delighted Ishva cut his speech short, "The green one is sweet, but this reddish green one is, " he stopped raising his hands "You'll get the payment, but breakfast is first."

He placed the bulky makeshift basket made out of long climbers and big leaves on one side and gave a orange to boat-man. The ripe fruit was tempting and he started munching it down in his half awake state. "I need to go in explore the island,"said Ishva clearly to him and squatted down sliding the bag in front and continued "This bag has the money help me explore through the island, once I find what I am looking for." he pressed the buckle as the sling bag fell on the white sad of the island.

By the time the oranges were eaten the boatman had not been able to utter anything, he ate in silence and gulped down the last of the juice fruit he said, "I like oranges, I take money for rowing only." rubbing his hands in the sand he continued a bit loudly, "Tell me what you searching in this silent Island." the sound of Ishva taking a large bite off the reddish green fruit followed by the click from the buckle of bag was heard, as he got up and picked up a sturdy branch and passed it to the boat-man. He picked up another crooked stick and started walking back in towards the overgrowth.

"Housing and industrial land." with a chuckle Ishva proclaimed, "A malignant desire don't you think?" Boat-man picked the straight wooden branch and poked it in the dry sand saying "You joke too much." he'd bent to pick up the makeshift basket and hung it along one side of the branch before tugging it over his shoulder.

"Well it's easier to laugh than to frown.," quick rebuttal by him somehow bought a irritated look on boat-man's face, "Are'nt you afraid I'll ask for a share in the treasure?" said the ignorant sailor, while walking up to catch the every walking Ishva.

"Treasure!" exclaimed Ishva jumping over a long dead white fallen tree by the periphery of the forest, "So it's a pirate's dream." his words drifted almost as if talking to his own self.

"What ?" Boat-man replied promptly for his response.

"It's a treasure to the right eyes." He said gulping down a berry. "I also want to know what eyes it seek, something had cried out in so many books and scriptures, it is worth checking."turning towards the boatman he said with a smile. The timeless beauty vapored with the morning sun, as the two man party ventured dead deep and followed the same direction as Ishva had walked on the last night.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Storm Brews with Silent Rains

Human has and will always be a creature of habits just like any other animal or living creature found in the boundless variety the nature has offered. A repetitive cycle to accommodate the splinters of time in this aerial and grounded colosseum of a land with events leading to conclusion for the fortunate or the misfortunate taking it as a sign to change their routine; this cycle with the mingling of encounters with other spanning over centuries have muted been dulled down to fit in the normal lives.

Clouds have cried and the winds have howled, towards the end there has still been a place that gets back to form a roundabout form, mockery and heresy of the contents, which the great minds had searched for their whole life has still been there one way or another. People have had not forgotten or they think they do but there is always things that stay and mold the history through ages and eons have gone since the cycle of going civil and flushing back to the juvenile or preposterous understanding of the way of life.

The stormy winds never left, thought Ishva looking at the windy ocean scene out of his small cottage. The life of a nomad is what he had to live now if he wants to keep the sanctity of the place he is bound to leave for in about sixty minutes. But with the heavy downpour after yesterday's drizzle he was thinking of changing plan. Not always do you have things workout the way you want and need them to be, slipping into a comfortable pair of boots he placed the required tools back in the sling bag that had kept his company since he boarded the flying ship.

The morning here was not much different from the humid morning sessions of his at the west coast but the majority of the difference lied in the fact that this port city has been well nourished by the populace of the country.

A city of Dreams as the masses called it, flair ups to show that the news were made here for the entire nation to witness and gape in awe. The streets were cluttered with people walking to and fro to their own destinations with different pace, with little regards to the heavy rain the coastline was forever flourishing.

Ishva witnessed ample to conclude but never took it to his heart, what goes around comes around, linking back the chains of his door and putting in the keys of the lock. His stay for about a day had been uneventful as he checked in the next list in the itinerary that was provided to him, with not much time left to catch a friendly boat to the island.

Looking at the coastline by the port a strong breeze blew past him taking with it a dusty cartoon into the crashing sea waves, the faint smell of a nearby fish market and the the porting industry's distant chimes resounded there. Steps taken were muffled by the sound of waves hitting the land as Ishva descended down the graveled way onto a wooden boat "Can I get you to sell this boat to me?" , he asked to a grumbling fella, "Nay, I don't sell but I sail." Ishva looked at the vacated shallow port.

Due to the oncoming heavy rain from the western sea, life and boats were not in abundance here, after walking for twenty minutes did he find one ferry, who was unwilling to sell he said, " I'll pay now", and took out a bundle of cash, he didn't require much anyway, after getting in touch with the black coat when he leave from here he will reach out for some monetary help then. The grumbling fella pushed back the boat a bit in the sea,  he wanted to leave and started talk to himself again angrily as Ishva watched him fiddle with a pouch by his waist. "I'll get on but I want to go to a far off island so is it fine by you??" Ishva said hurriedly hoping to not let the opportunity go buy with the strong sea breeze.

The boat man looked back frowning still but with some glints of curiosity, "Where ah??" to which Ishva looked at the setting sun which was just a  glimpse in all with all the hushed bustle at the far end of the port, "I'll pay you more for asking less." pointing towards the northwest he continued, "Again, it's more if you just sell me that boat." boat man's brows frowned and eyes narrowed a bit when Ishva got back to talking.

"Not that I am forcing you about it, anyway an elderly should never refuse help." he said getting closer to the boat as it was bought back closer by the boat man and quickly stepped in with the creaky sound of his boots and wood of the canoe.

" Where is to, this island you want to go." boat man inquired again with a slight more interest this time when Ishva sat back on the aft side. Taking out a compass from his slouched bag and pointing again towards the the northwest Ishva stopped concerning himself with the conversation and squinted his eyes to catch the glimpse of the setting sun.

"Nay!,  there is nothing there." he stated paddling a bit further in the direction with the frowned brows. Ishva nodded to this and checked his compass again before calling out loudly, "I keep telling you sell me the boat." and he leaned back on a plank for support. A sound of hard wood hitting the side of the boat kept repeating itself when Ishva looked back at the boat man, who had now a temple dome forming over his brows as he peddled forward towards the direction pointed, "So what to do in the open sea, fishing," boat man inquired again after the initial pause.

"No, more of a research project, and not a open see the island I told you." Ishva retorted this time emphasizing about the fact that he does not wish to just fish with the stormy wind in a wild open sea.

Boat man raised one of his wooden oar crudely crafted for peddling up pointing and turning a bit towards that, " There is nothing there for next six or even seven miles, what do you want if not to fish." still ignoring the word island again as if filtering out the information which did not seem any closer to his reality.

The waves got harder and the rain started to pour down in fragments of small drops forming numerous small ripples colliding and ending on themselves all around leaving the boats tracks without a trail.

Ishva took the money and passed it to the boat man walking over slowly within the confines of the sturdy old boat and smiled and said scratching his face "We go to a island, it'll take really long to reach, about twice as long as it took to reach here." they could now see the coastline in the periphery of the horizon and nothing at all to account for island he wished to go.

"You should have left me the boat." he continued and wobbled back to aft and sat down taking in a deep breath of the rainy air which was cooling down the temperature "So now we are in the same boat," he laughed lightly a bit and said a bit loudly looking at the unfazed reaching of the boat man to his joke,"You can buy a machine boat with the amount I have already paid you, what's bothering you?, You insisted and I didn't have much option anyways."

Pushing ahead with synchronous strokes towards the unknown vicinity that Ishva had set for them, the boat man let out a grunt pushing down his anger, "Who want machine boat, I go on till you say stop" he said as he draped on a calm look and the waves hitting the boat gave a thump with his paddling.

Ishva picked up some clues about the resolute boat man who was waiting in the late afternoon when it was about to rain, him having some issues why his temper would flare up with the talk about money and the machine boats. He was not in a mood to reveal the information about a location which was still relatively unknown to the masses. The fact that various scriptures found in some of the tombs and and temples found had a reference of this land silent in the sea is harder to relate and ascertain, but the thought of arguing and talking up another chunk of his day to dwindle around the port side to get a sturdy enough boat and a happy seller was the uncertainty that he wished to avoid. He was not thinking of what should be done about this boat man but his intuition had guided him well and he believed it will keep doing so.

" Let me paddle for a while" He said keeping his bag to a side when a flash of light had gone off on the coast side and his words were muffled by the sound of the breathtaking thunder that followed it.

He waved his hands balancing himself at the center of the boat and said again, " Come on let me paddling for some time now." The boat man heard this time and looked at the strange ferry he had on board with a desecrating look, but carefully place the two oars inside and stood up slowly to his left giving him the way to the helm of with the paddles.