An open door

An open door
Originally uploaded by Vasudha Pande.

What Sam saw

After four long and dreadful years, a period of utter chaos came upon the earth. The third world war had come to an end, yet its perniciousness had engulfed many hearts in melancholy and had rocked many others, painfully and brutally, to eternal sleep.

The setting sun displayed its kaleidoscopic range of colours in the Western sky before slowly disappearing over the horizon and into the earth’s womb. The stars slowly dotted the evening sky, as the darkness grew within and without.

A blast of cold wind slapped the face of a lithe, tall figure making its way through the corpses littered along the lifeless streets- streets that stretched on and on like a wearisome argument. Some people lay dead; others silently wished for death to put an end to their suffering. A beam of light cutting through the fog illuminated all. The figure passed, shining a torch to light his way.

What he beheld horrified him; it chilled him to the bone. He saw fear, terror, despair and hopelessness, painted on the faces of men, frozen in time. He saw burnt houses, the homeless sprawled on the streets, and orphans weeping. He saw people sitting near wooden barrels, which they had set on fire to warm their cold hearts with. He saw tear-stained faces, and wept. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, washing away the layer of gunpowder.

Sam walked on; his sight fell on dead children near the burnt school building, their faces stained with blood and rolled flesh. He tore his gaze from the horrid scene and looked skyward. Only a few stars were to be seen. The sky was covered with thick clouds of smoke. A chill ran down his spine as another blast of cold wind slapped him.

Sam moved on. A cloud of smoke got blown away by the cold December wind. The full moon threw forth its light. The dead sprawled by the roadside were bathed in the moonlight. He summoned up his remaining energy and flung the gun in his hand into the darkness he was trying to get away from. Is this what he and many like him had brought to pass? Why did they fight? Just because they were told to? It was not in their power to decide whether to fight or not, he thought. He felt something soft beneath his boots and stepped back to look at it. It was a small hand covered in blood and mud. A lone tear raced down his cheek.

Rose

Rose
Originally uploaded by Vasudha Pande.

Sir Newton and the catflap

“(..) Sir Isaac Newton, renowned inventor of the milled-edge coin and the catflap!”"The what?” said Richard.

“The catflap! A device of the utmost cunning, perspicuity and invention. It is a door within a door, you see, a …”

“Yes,” said Richard, “there was also the small matter of gravity.”

“Gravity,” said Dirk with a slightly dismissed shrug, “yes, there was that as well, I suppose. Though that, of course, was merely a discovery. It was there to be discovered.” …

“You see?” he said, “They even keep it on at weekends. Someone was bound to notice sooner or later. But the catflap … ah, there is a very different matter. Invention, pure creative invention. It is a door within a door, you see.”

- Douglas Adams, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency

Children and Men

Small children, merry and bright;
They do not know wrong from right.
Tirelessly plotting to cause
Harm to each other.
Small children, so innocent;
Yet they cannot do without
Scowling and grumbling,
Pushing and screaming,
Rushing and fighting
To get hold of the same toy-
And superficial men follow suit!