Blog Archives

Beleriand at War

When Beleriand was in war,
A merry passenger, a messenger, a mariner, went to seek the help of the Valar,

 

The Valar answered the cries of the children of Illuvatar,
Gathering their armies of elves high, they rode to war,

 

The war of wrath it was called and Beleriand was destroyed,
And Melkor was trapped in the void,

 

Of space and time,
For his horrendous crime,

 

Beleriand sank beneath the sea,
And the world was changed and Eru heard the plea,

 

Immortality or a mortal life,
Some chocies were given to children of Earendil and Elwing for their strife,

 

Elros choose the gift of Ilúvatar and went to live in Numenor which later fell,
But that’s another story to tell,
While Elrond tied his fate to middle-earth and went to establish Rivendell.

A Monster

The nights are haunted by the nightmares of lost love,
Her face still fresh in your mind when you close your eyes,
Turned to curse what once was blessing from ‘above’,
The memories forever yours and pain never dies,

 

Through thick and thin, sickness and health,
Foolish expectations of a lover’s heart,
In reality of world, honesty and goodness aren’t wealth,
In reality of world, money drives people apart,

 

But everyone can play the blame game,
The fault wasn’t always in our stars,
Once you used to smile and chant her name,
Now you lay down counting the stars,

 

Taking a puff of herb, forgetting your worries,
Trying in find yourself in blown smoke,
Rembering the time of appologies and sorries,
Trying to understand the emotions that awoke,

 

This demon that woke inside of me,
This ghost of painful past, of you,
This monster who took hold of me,
What would become of me and you?

 

Am I the only one affected,
Or do you suffer the same?
Do you also feel neglected?
I am tired of playing this game,

 

I wish that I would forget,
All the good and bad,
I wish that I felt no regret,
The happy ending we could have had,

 

Your experiences made who you are,
But they say everything happens for a reason,
So sing the song and play the guitar,
Lose yourself in the music of changing season,

 

But time to get it together,
Forget past and look to the future,
Life cannot be lived by if and whether,
Are you ready for a new adventure?

Poems

Eenie, meanie, minie, mo,
Guess who’s back with a brand new poem, bro!   

And I dont mean poem as in words put in rhymes,
It has to have a meaning, a context, these are different times,

You get a thought in your head,
The deeper meaning of words said,

You think about the power of words in the message you send,
Sometimes following the rules, sometimes starting a new trend,

A poem is the singing of your mind,
Reflections on your current life and of what you left behind,

Its a timeless wonder, open to interpretation, an immortal being,
About your life, past, present and future, what your mind is seeing,

There is no limit on it, no one to hold you back,
The saints are extinct, there is no white and black,

The best poems are about existance, the human feeling,
What love and life gives, what loss and death are stealing,

Sometimes you write for others but sometimes it’s just for you,
Sometimes about the breakups and for the love which was true,

Sometimes about politics and issues of life,
Sometimes about happy endings and a loving wife,

Sometimes about desires and dreams,
Sometimes about the hurt and screams,

But the truth is that writing is your savior and grace,
It gets you through the hardships that you face.

Ascension

When the future is fogged in mist and the bridge is burnt, who do you turn to for help, who will be your savior now? You wander about mindlessly and lost, abandoned by everyone. You doubt your decisions, your choices, everything that brought you here, here at the end of world. You see the your life flash in front of your eyes, the memories, ah the memories. You pretend to have no regret but its a fasad, a defence mecchanism, a lie. You regret alot. When you look into your past you dont see yourself, atleast not the person you are now, you see some other guy, someone who is in peace and happy, whose mind isnt always racing, asking, pondering, questioning, going against the norms, no, no, you see a guy who followed his customs, his traditions, his social obligations, his religion, an activist, who used to make speeches in halls about patriotism and in mosque about purpose of life. It all seems a distant memory now. You are not what you used to be, you changed. In the beginning it was just for fun, you would start rhyming words and making poems from them, silly lines which made little to no sense, but you liked playing with words. The words made you feel special. But the words started coming to you more often, the rhymes started to make sense, you started seeing the pattern in nature, you started thinking, you started pondering, you began your search for Truth. Poems started having deeper meaning, you started questioning everything, your society, your culture, your religion. Your mind began the singing, simpler things got complicated, your goals in life got mixed up, you got messed up. Life became one big poem, you became an observer, you started playing this game, you started playing with people. You liked it, it made you feel powerful, made you different, unique in some way and you liked the feeling. You kept diving deeper and deeper in this ocean of emotions and you liked it. You wrote about it, some for other people but mostly for yourself. You started worrying about your legacy, your place in the grand scheme of things, your value to the universe. You wanted to leave something behind for people when you are gone. You started thinking of death alot. It excited you. But you couldnt just trust nature for your death, it had to be you. It would be more poetic, you thought. You finished your novels, and you connected your short stories. Connecting them became an obsession. It all had to be connected you told yourself. It all came from your mind and your mind was the connection between them. And now the canvas is complete. your work here is done. It is time, you told yourself. It is time to ascend out of this physical body with all the regrets, the bad choices, and decisions and the good memories. You put the pill in your mouth and swallowed it with a sip of water and your first chapter came to an end……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Mind Singing: A unique sickness

I am just so sick and tired,
Of being always inspired,  

By all these goals,
Filling these holes,  

In my life and in my heart,
I just want to leave all behind to depart,  

And to go to a new land,
A meadow land, not a shadow land,  

But when will my adventure start,
Sitting here throwing the dart,  

When it never lands in the middle,
Life is not a question but a riddle,  

Whenever I am alone,  my mind races,
It paces,  it faces,  it chases,  

The answers, the dreams,
The agony, the screams,  

My infinite thoughts in an infinite universe,
The universe? No,  it’s a multiverse,  

From the smallest atomic particle to galaxies it goes,
My wandering mind never slows,
Everything is in constant motion it shows,
Expanding towards something or someone, no one knows,  

The questions of life, about life, the histories,
All these interesting, fascinating mysteries,  

Every choice creates a world parallel and new,
Talked by many but understood by few,  

I am a tiny speck of star dust in the grand scheme of things,
But my thoughts are infinite when my minds singing begins.

Baginssis

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. His name was Baginssis. Baginssis lived a quiet, calm, peaceful life in Hobbiton, passing his days taking part in the town politics, smoking his pipe-weed, and staying late in the green dragon inn and having long discussions about golf and other sports. He was a very respectable hobbit and that meant he had never been on an adventure or did anything unexpected. But soon his life was about to change forever.

One day while he was returning home at night, he felt a sudden cold, the air became chilled, he could see his own breath, an unseen fear tookk hold of him. Baginssis pulled his hood over his head. Suddenly he heard the hoofs of a horse, so he hid behind a tree and saw the large black man appear on his black horse. Behind him, he could spot three more of the riders in black. They seemed to have not noticed him, afterall hobbits can be quite stealth when they want to.

There behind the tree in silence, he saw the black riders move towards Bag End. He followed them quietly and carefully, as to not draw any attention to himself. They went into Bag End, with Baginssis close behind them. He couldnt hear them but it seemed that they didnt find what they were looking for. They mounted up again and rode off.

Baginssis didnt know who they were or what to make of the whole scene, he kept replaying the whole scene in his dead when he went to bed that night. Strange, very strange. Tomorrow when he woke up, he wanted to go and inquire what business did Mr. Frodo have with these large black riders. But he was quite disappointed to not find Frodo in his home.

A few more days passed, Baginssis went to check if Frodo was back at his home but he found no sign of him. It was quite unlike Frodo to disappear like this. He wondered if those black riders had anything to do with it. One day while he was at Green Dragon, having a drink, he heard someone say that Frodo along with 3 others was gone to live in Buckland. This came as quite a surprise to Baginssis as he had always considered Frodo a friend. Why wouldnt he tell me if he is moving to Buckland. So he decided that he would go to Buckland and confront Frodo about this. You do not treat a friend like that.

So Baginssis prepared a back pack and put on his travelling cloak and set out for Buckland. When he reached there he was quite disappointed to find out that Mr. Frodo was not there. When he questioned Fredegar Bolger about Mr. Frodo, he would say nothing. But after much questioning and assuring him that Frodo was a very dear friend, He finally told him that Frodo and the company had went into the Old Forest. Now why on earrth would he go there for?

But he had come all the way to Buckland to find Mr. Frodo, he could not give up the search now, so he decided to go into the Old Forest. He had heard strange stories about this place, the walking trees and dangerous wolves. But I cant stop now, I must keep going. He walked and he walked, deep into the forest, the trees grew thick, the air became denser, but Baginssis was determined to confront his so called friend. Each year, each year I gave him an excellent gift on his birthday and this is what he does to me. Leaving without a word! 

After much walk, he finally came across an old man who was dancing and singing and dancing and dancing and singing. The words didnt make much sense to Baginssis, but if nothing else, Baginssis was a courteous hobbit,

“Hello good sire! My name is Baginssis and I am looking for my friend Frodo, who I was told has come into this forest, would you happen to know anything about it?”, he asked.

“Hey do merry do my hearty! Tom Bombadillo knows everything that goes in and out of this forest, oh yes he does, the forest has trees, and trees have leaves, and leaves fall. but Tom Bombadill never falls with his shoes which are blue and his jacket yellow, oh merry fellow”, he replied?

“umm, so do you know anything about Frodo? He is my friend and then he just disappears and I hosted all his parties and was always there for him when his uncle left”

“Frodo, oh yes Frodo and Sam and Merry and Pippin, oh yeah, the four little hobbits on dangerous mission, oh yeah, Tom loves little hobbits, oh yes he does, but who are you merry do my hearty?”

Dangerous missions?! What dangerous missions? Has Frodo gone crazy like old Mr. Bilbo? “Oh I am a hobbit do, but could you please tell me where they are? I really need to speak with Frodo”, Baginssis asked.

“The four little merry hobbit, oh yes merry do my hearty, Tom knows where they go, Tom helped them oh yes he did, Tom loves little hobbits, he saved them from the wights, oh yes, the dead men who walk, oh Tom helped the hobbits, oh yes Tom loves to help, his boots are blue and his jacket is yellow, oh yes merry do”

Walking dead men?! Oh Frodo, what are you up to?! “Where are they now?”

“Safe in Bree, Tom thinks, yes safe in Bree, yes yes my hearty, safe in Bree”

Bree! Thats where I must go. “Thank you Tom, it was nice meeting you, Good Bye. I must go to Bree”

“Good Bye merry fellow, Mr. Baginssis, but remember if you need Tom, he will come for you, oh yes he will precious, Farewell merry do my hearty”, Tom sang and danced his way up to his house in the woods.

Walking dead men! Dangerous mission! I must go north towards the main road to Bree.

The main road was quite deserted, other then a few companies of dwarves and a hobbit or two on business journeys. He finally reached Bree, and check into Prancing Pony. He was eager to find Frodo, but there was no sign of the company there. But he was quite surprised to find the old grey wizard there. Gandalf had a reputation for bringing trouble to the hobbits, but Baginssis must ask him if he knew of this dangerous mission of Frodo and these walking dead men.

To Be Continued…

Casual Stroll

When I was bored of playing,

and slaying, the deeds became boring,

so i started exploring, the middle earth,

the beautiful earth, and all its mystery,

the history, I enjoy the ales

and tales, and the role play,

and lore play, a break from questing,

just resting, in hall of fire, 

by the fire, with desire, and a passion,

no more traveling ration, so everyone come,

welcome, please do come, with Estel-Ali,

or Dgenx-Ali, with all these merry elves,

the singing elves, the dancing elves,

the Tolkien’s elves and Bilbo,

or was it Bingo, I dont remember, 

but you are a member, of this community, of players,

the LOTRO Players, who got the news,

and share their views, what they’ve been doing,

and pursuing, so listen to them conveying,

when you are bored of playing.