Archive for February, 2012

A Strange World

Posted in Stories. with tags , , , , on February 24, 2012 by Dev!l

Writer’s Note: Well I have my exams going on so yea even though still two remain I am going to be a drama queen and whine about how I couldn’t update during the week…

He stared towards the heavens above but found a disdained silence, the moon hid behind the Earth and darkness ensued everywhere. Everything was a blur and bathed in black. Although, he stood in the middle of a crowded street, yet he felt alone… alienated… and simply lost.

“Hey, Excuse me… Can you guide me to…”

But no one bothered to stop and listen. Their faces stern with harshness of the winter and their eyes hollow and voided of life… Nothing mattered to them but their own selves. He fell to his knees and silently cried.

“Hey, you dropped this.” He heard a familiar voice. He turned around and found a face he thought he knew. “Thank you…” he slowly reached out and grabbed the mask from the stranger.

“No problem, bye” the stranger got up with a content smile and left as if he had accomplished some feat of greatness and went on his way. That is when he realized… He wasn’t the only one who was lost… they all were… trapped in a maze of predetermined freedom; they all were shackled in the fetters of slavery… He smiled, wiped his tears and slowly put his mask on as he started walking towards an unknown destination.


Random Story

Posted in Stories. on February 14, 2012 by Dev!l

Writer’s Note: I set out to write something else but it somehow managed to jumble up so many ideas that I just hastened to finish it and leave it how it is.

He gasped for air but couldn’t breathe. The air around him had become denser and the pain was slowly becoming unbearable. He thought about how the ground was soft, how he hadn’t slept in days… how he could just call out for a medic and get out of this God forsaken man slaughter or how he should just let his assailant finish him off… How God would greet him at the gates of heaven with arms wide open…

His life slowly flashed before his eyes…

The time of his youth when he was carefree, mischievous and curious… The time spent in the warmth and comfort in the sanctity of his mother’s lap. The pampering of the servants and the catering of his needs before he even wished for them to be done.

The time of his adolescence, the days when the only cares were to chase young girls and finding ways to calm his adventurous soul. The times he spent running from his trainings just to have a laugh with his friends. His later teens when he met her… The one who got away… The one that never was his yet made an everlasting impression with a craving that to till this day had left an infallible void in the deep chasm that was his heart…

The time of late teens when his insolence and arrogance were at its peak… The time when he lamented everyone else and was too afraid to admit his grief. The time he spent in the unknown mountains of Asia searching for peace and the one he lost…

He remembered his teacher who spent years trying to mend his heart and pour out the anger of betrayal. He remembered the words of his teacher…

“Why do you fight? For love? For hate? For patriotism? For friendship? No matter what the reason you pick that sword up your opponent would always have a similar reason. So why do you expect to live whilst he dies? How do you know you’re right and he’s not? The answer is you don’t…  Remember, those who live by the sword die by it, live by your heart and rule by your logic. Nothing in this world is permanent and everything you have or may have lost will eventually be replaced with something else. Love will become hatred and hatred will turn into obsession and that obsession in turn will lead you back to love. Fight not for what you believe is right but fight for what you feel is right. Learn to let go and accept defeat, for if you haven’t learnt how to fail then you will never succeed. A true warrior is not one who never falls down but is one who always gets up.”

His eyes opened slightly, his rapier laid a few feet from him. His thoughts of giving in faded away and his hands reached for his sword… There may be a God up there waiting for him but today wasn’t it… He knew he was where he felt he should be… On the battlefield fighting for what he believed was right. He let out a defiant cry as he stabbed his assailant, refusing to give up as long as there was blood flowing in his veins.

Nostalgic Quip

Posted in Nostalgic Quips on February 12, 2012 by Dev!l

Now, the following is a true story as it happened to a classmate of mine. He lives in a hostel room with a rather fat fellow; the following are the exploits of that person.

Exploit 1

A (the fat roommate) is very dirty and doesn’t take baths much. One day I forced him to go take a bath. He went and after 15 minutes came back.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?”

“No, btw when you go out do bring back some cloth washing detergent”


“Well I looked around and couldn’t find the soap so I bathed with the detergent.”

Exploit 2

One day we were sitting in the room when A said to me, “B can you pass me the water bottle?”

“Bro the bottle is near you, just get up and get it.”

A was sitting near the medicine cabinet and the bottle was on the table next to the cabinet. He looked at the water bottle then looked at the medicine cabinet… Without bothering to get up he opened the medicine cabinet took out a whole bottle of cough syrup, put it to his mouth and drank it whole.

“Uh dude?”

“Don’t worry, nothing will happen to me. Besides, I didn’t even have to get up”

Exploit 3

One day a friend needed some blood, A agreed to give some. I took him to the hospital and asked him if he wanted to eat something. It was early in the morning and we just had had breakfast. “Sure” he replied and ate 2 sandwiches. The friend who needed the blood soon came after approximately 30 minutes and out of courtesy asked him, “Have you had anything to eat?”

“I did have a very light snack but I am hungry…”

The friend bought him a “shawarma” and a bottle of juice. After giving the blood, A took another bottle of juice from the host and returned to the hostel. It was near 2 o’clock and that is when he said… “I’m hungry I just donated blood. Come let’s go eat”

He ate 2 plates of Chicken Karahi with 5 chappatis….

Ling Chi

Posted in Stories. on February 7, 2012 by Dev!l

The bulb flickered as he stood over his soon to be victim. The room stanched of blood but it didn’t bother him. He stared at the face of the naked man, tied to a chair in front of him in utter disgust. People like him made him sick to his stomach, which is why he got into this in the first place. To vent out all the hatred he felt. His fists clenched and his brows tightened.

“Wake the F*** up” he whispered into the ear of the man as his punch connected as hard as it could with the detainee.

There was a muffled scream as the man slowly opened his eyes but before his eyes could get used to the dark another punch connected with his nose. Blood seeped out of his nostrils; surely enough his nose bone had broken.

“Who are you?” the detainee asked in an agonized tone

“Me? Don’t you remember me Jim?” He said as he punched Jim in the abdomen again.

Jim looked up as he spat blood from his mouth. His eyes could see a silhouette in the dark, the shadow of a person he knew so well… “Ray!?” He muttered in surprise but was again silenced by a punch to the face.

“What are you doing? What have I done?” Jim moaned

“Oh nothing, I just hate you” Ray retorted as a sadistic smile ensued across his face.

“But we were friends…”

“Oh the best of friends…” Ray laughed as he took out a scalpel from his pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh…” Ray said with a wicked smile as he pressed the scalpel against Jim’s lips.

Blood dripped drop by drop from Jim’s lips as Ray stared into his eyes. Apparently, he was enjoying the look of fear in the eyes of his victim.

“Tell me Jim, are you familiar with the Chinese “art” of Ling Chi?” Ray asked with a tint of jeer in his voice.

Jim stayed quiet as the scalpel still was pressed against his lips and it was better not to aggregate the pain further.

“Oh no? Well, you see it’s an ancient Chinese torture technique. What they do is take a sharp scalpel such as this” Ray brought the scalpel right in front of Jim’s pupil, “and then they start slowly and precisely cutting at the detained till he either talks or bleeds to a slow painful death. Since, I have no interest in hearing your self obsessed banter… I’m afraid that you’ll have to entertain me in another fashion.” Ray smiled like a maniac as he slowly ran the scalpel down Jim’s cheek, splitting it in two.

The cuts continued and with each scream, the smile on Ray’s face became broader. There was a tinge of happiness in Ray’s eyes similar to that of a child on Christmas day. With each scream his hands moved more artistically as if he was painting on a canvas…


“Hey Ray? Lost somewhere?” Jim snapped his fingers in front of Ray

“Huh? Oh yea…”

“Must have been a happy memory, right?”

“Oh totally… It’s what makes me go on.”

 “Hey guys…” a cheerful voice yelled

“Hey tina…” Ray replied with a broad smile as his mind imagined light from the flickering bulb flashing off the scalpel, as he stared at her tied to a chair…