As to project an air of confidence, and seeming self-assurance? Did they use words larger than necessary? How many words did they use? Was it a reasonable amount? Did they shoot off on a tangent, as to avoid the subject at hand? Did they give you a straight answer? Did they answer at all? Did there eyes dart from side to side? To the left, to the right? Did they look up, away, down, into your eyes? Did they fidget? Look repulsed? Shock & awe? Satisfied? Nonplussed? In the time before they answer what were they doing? Taking a deep breath? Looking away? Trying to stare into your very soul? Trying to search out the answer you seek?

Whether or not it is the true, or a fabrication of fiction. A bare thread of a lie, or a neatly woven tapestry spun into an elaborate picture of chivalry, daring, self sacrifice, and atonement? Can this person be trusted? Have they always been telling the truth? Are there lies just so grand and majestic that the mere fiction of there truth seems to actually be an irrefutable fact. Why would they lie? Lies like ripples in a glass resonate, and overlap. If you asked them if they were lying how would it be done? Directly right then and there? What if the truth was the answer present, and you are now they fool? What if the don’t confess? Most won’t lies trigger more lies. It’s not true, not all lies hurt. Everybody does it.

Everybody. Whether it be the lies of our childhood, teenage years, or adulthood. When people have mastered their craft sunk so deep into a web of lies it becomes easier than truth. Even when the truth is an easier answer. One day everyone must attest for the lives they’ve lived.

What closed wooden doors? I see nothing is hidden. An ordinary man hunts for some place so he could be by himself for a while. He runs, he hides from people, who are full of curiosity, also, who are ready to close eyes to their own issues for a while to enjoy others’. I see a common man has to put in so much effort to keep his troubles private. It is sad how people disrespect a man’s solitude mostly for their own distraction. I do not see contented people anywhere. Where are they? Where have they gone? Or, were they ever there? Was their happiness their temporary misconception? I do not know. I cannot tell. I see a big happy family living in a big, handsome house, doing everything together and assuring to one another they would hang about like this for the rest of their lives. Inspirational? Yes? Why? How do I still feel the negative forcefulness that is keeping them together? Why are their hearts corrupt?

Why, the simplest emotion like love has become so complicated? Why do I imagine, everyone sometimes, will close their hearts and hope to die to tell I- love-you lies? Why is it that a young student feels ashamed of traveling by a school van? Who is going to aware him/her of the difficulties the father is taking to still send his child to a reputable school? Why have our minds become so uptight and narrow, that there is almost no room for small compromises? Why cannot we keep somebody’s financial calamities serious? Why have we become so self indulgent? What do we get out of it? Good grades but hardly any sincere friends? Loads of money but no one to enjoy it with? What are we doing? Think.

There are more questions and one answer. We lack realization. I do not need to say more. It is self explanatory to people who will follow and I close my wooden doors to those otherwise.

You always know that I can be killed by a pair of deep-dark eyes of yours but I could never find out what you see in these green circles…

You always know that you were my everything – birth, past, life, present, death, future—and you were everything to me – a brother, a father, a friend, a lover, a husband and sometimes even a stranger but I could never figure out what my role was in your life…

And leaving me behind, you sentenced my curiosity to a life imprisonment disregarding how painful it can be for a heart that does not know how to beat without you!!!

How can you tell me how much I should love you…or who deserves my love more than you. I am giving those what they deserve, in the quantity that they require and they seem to be happy in that.

I have learned to live with a constant longing and pain in my heart…a bitter sweet feeling that kills me each night when I lie down to sleep and don’t find you next to me. I have given up on that wish now…or maybe not….maybe I can never stop wishing for you.

I am young still and still can reach out to you…you are still a phone call away….my biggest fear is how will I part with this life if I am on my death bed and you either don’t find out or can’t make it.

I had promised myself to live and die in your arms.

All I really desired was to test the untested; I had just asked you to comeback to me forever. All I did was let you go, hoping and desiring that for once you would come back to me and say that you loved me equally as much and could not live without me, just like I found it impossible to move on.

It was always a secret wish to be loved by someone for whom your presence affected so much that life would feel incomplete without. But what shocked me the most was the fact that it was so simple for you to just break the trust that was covering my existence like a mother’s womb, and leave. Just Leave…Walk Away…Move On.

The sound of your voice still haunts me, when you said “Are you sure, you never want to call me again. Ever?”

Laughing in the middle (like mockery at my sudden discovery of courage to breathe without you) you said “so you are not even going to SMS me?”

I stayed calm (don’t know how a sudden peace had filled my restless soul) and I said “Yes! I won’t call you, you will call me on my birthday (2 months from then), you know where I live; I will wait for your arrival on that date.)

You said “Are you sure?? (I could sense that your male ego had kicked in).

I said “Yes!!! (With my mind swirling in front of my eyes).

And then the phone went “Click”. I disconnected! With not a single sound around me or inside me; I walked towards my home. Not knowing what this simple test of love would bring me in the coming days….I needed to sleep. I had just taken the heaviest step of my life.

My city represents a laborer striving for years over their exhorting physical task to place clay bricks meticulously one upon the other, building magnanimous structures representing the art in its architectural form.

An Art solid with its foundation of mere a stone in the depth of my soil -which is also a part of my another identity , my alternate attitude- the garden.

What happens when my tired laborers with their skilled, painful passion build up structural walls that they acknowledge and define as a city? – they find bodies who have learned to pass through their lives and not live them.

The bodies pay rent to get hemmed in by their own walls. Life withdraws itself from these souls and loses its meaning and glory when the building of the city stops.

Let me take you through a walk in my garden now!

I plant the seeds of freedom in my soil which showers the fragrance of seasons. My garden is a gift of love and patience. A strong and pure virtue which is instilled in its roots by my gardener. It also endures the storms of weather and passes through the test of time and rarely rest.

Every moment my garden breathes in to give out life where I inhale magic and live many rich experiences of life’s exotic adventures.

I have learnt that every gardener will always recognize each other, because they know that in the history of each plant lies the growth of the whole universe and i shall pass on the legacy of my land to built powerful cities.

And yes , I know, the famous “love what you do till you do what you love” saying that tricks us all into doing something that we might come to remotely love after a while but never end up doing what you really love, because lets face it, what we love most of the time isn’t an easy field to break into. Because that is not your typical field of work where you graduate from college and start doing it, for example being a professional sports player, I know I wanted to be one (still do and would’ve been but lost my window). Another is being in a band and making it big (also want this but maybe I’ll just have a band). Others include artistic kind of jobs like writing (doing it) drawing, photography etc. Some (lucky few) actually get to work on something ordinary that they just happen to love.

What you need in the in the matter of these things you love to do is, talent, a chance (with emphasis on luck) and perseverance (artistic jobs don’t pay at first and maybe not at all or not as good). It’s sad that some talents go undiscovered because the environment was not right, or the circumstances were not adequate, or just plainly not acting about it. If you’re good at something try to make it happen and if you want it that bad or love it that much, maybe luck will come your way (that’s what happened to me).

If you are not of the people who are blessed or have something particular you love to do, you can either try to be your own manger, take the risk and open your own business, or apply the “love the thing you work” as the best option.

Work itself, I think, and that’s my humble opinion, comes in three stages; First the work (slave) with no monetary compensation phase and that’s when you graduate and you are still fit to do above-normal physical and mental labour.

Secondly comes the mid period, and that’s when you work less than you used to and make more money.

Lastly comes the “reaping the fruits of your labour” phase and this is where the most fun is; here you work even less and make much more money; provided of course that with each step forward the responsibilities increase. But hey, now you get to make big decisions and control or manage people (and who doesn’t like that). Patience not being a big virtue of mine (I believe the world should always be in a FF state), I am one of those who tried to go from phase 1 to 2 right away. I figured like maybe get 3 years under the belt, the whole cycle in 10 max (how optimistic is that.)

As it turns out, that logic or approach is flawed. What happens is, you actually start knocking on phase 2′s door and take the responsibility part while still doing all your phase 1 work, so now you have all the workload from the first phase plus the new found responsibility. As for the financial upgrade, it seems that money and a title don’t go hand in hand; you’ll get the title now and in a few month (more few month) you’ll get the money raise.

It all comes down to being able to take risk pursuing this illusive thing you love, nothing beats doing what you love (naturally your good at) for a job, if not so then at least get a hobby to cope with your work and maybe you’ll find out something you love to do.

We should not be afraid of stepping into the limelight once in a while… I know I am not! In fact, when it’s my turn to perform, I’ll perform the best way I know how… I’ll give it everything I have and then some… Granted, I may not the greatest performer in history and I’ll admit my range is somewhat limited… but, hey, I’ve gotten a standing ovation once or twice before, and that should definitely account for something.

However, I guess when it comes down to the nitty-gritty; I really prefer to work behind the scenes… maybe as a playwright, producer or director. You see, my shows just happen to be great shows… in any given day, the underdog, and not the hero, saves the day… the ending is always unforeseen and unexpected… deux-ex-machinas burst around every corner… there is always a great soundtrack, and breathtaking special effects… my audiences laugh, cry and sometimes even dance in the aisles… there’s no greatest thrill than producing the perfect show… and being handsomely rewarded for it…

Still, I’m also a face in the crowd… unfortunately, now and then, I am tempted to stop being just a spectator, take over the show and fix it my way… I hate it when good shows go to the dogs… but at the end of the day, show business is still a business… and you got to make a living, which means I can only get involved with profitable productions… sure, a low-budget off Broadway show is commendable every once in a while, but it can also choke you to death financially if you commit to a long run… and my fixed costs run high… so very often I have no choice but to remain in the wings, even when every pore of my body is dying not to.

Ahhh… but the show must go on, and you should understand that there will always be actors who will out-act you… but some will also under-act you… still, no actor is irreplaceable… and no show can run forever… not even Cats… there will always be another great show just waiting to have a run, so that the showroom never goes dark… and the funny thing is that when you get on the road, performance after performance, all the cities look exactly the same… history is not supposed to repeat itself… oh, but it does… over and over again… and it’s scary, and maybe just a bit flattering, when you see your part, the part you wrote for yourself, being played by another actor… I guess the road does go on forever and when it does, you definitely learn to appreciate rest areas.

I knew him since the days he dabbled and dreamed with the idea of a kingdom , his own city of Troy built with labor of smart work and ideas of intelligence. I have witnessed him rise from the humble beginnings of an ordinary guy to an extremely powerful magnet.

But what struck my chord with him was his boyish innocence, his charming heart of gold and the ever effluent eyes. With his words he bespoke of power, passion and commitment to protect the city he was building brick by brick.

He stood as a commander of an army to fight a war, poised as a lion with a bare proud chest as the only armor. His purpose was to build and prosper, his war was against the odds and all evens.

As i knew him better my worldly possessions gave no meaning to my life because i was living an inspiration. He was more stronger than provoking word, he was much deeper than the ever existing thoughts.

Slowly, i started to renounce these so called possessions as an act of personal sacrifice to achieve my personal legend. The only thread i had with a different world was through an act of commitment and responsibility towards a 7 yr old whom i had to teach to be my man’s successor in character.

Every passing moment i found new glories and new victories. every sacrifice went unnoticed , not acknowledged by him. My stormy passion for him was gone recondite. I was a mere soldier in his army whom he had taught the power and art of resilience.

God had crafted my soul but it was for him, my very existence found meaning only when i merged with his soul, his dreams. Every prayer breathed was to intact his security beyond any form of destruction.

He commanded me to believe in the power of action. He taught me the secret of practice. He led me to through the path of true love. he once said ” After much practicing, we no longer think about the necessary moments: they become part of our existence”.

I got absorbed moment by moment in this fluidity , ebbed with love and transformation of being much stronger than the character itself.

There were many victories, but the wars was won

for me ..when he trusted me more than the total truth. I followed the act of total submission. I found my spirituality.

for him .. when I saw the city of Troy.