A king's Tale - Flash Fiction

The Snap-

The Tale-


A dry smile hung on his bloodied face apropos the stark struggle it had taken for him to claw his way to the top; to have had the guile to be ruthless; the gall to war tooth and nail with his own clan, his own brethren.

All of them, every single one of them fierce warriors, now defeated; now lying broken on the battleground beneath his feet; their tired breaths echoing around the empty embers of the open sky; their astute eyes fixed on him, their very fates hanging by the tethers of his decision.

 “I win” His deep voice shattering the slip of silence welling after the din of the conflict. “I am the alpha and I am the king”

Then he got down on his knees to help them up.

Who's a  king.......... alone??

Lyres of Lust - Poetry

The Snap-

The Poem-

1.  

Plunderer unpermitted,

Her Surrender –

Pepper minted.

He escaped; with the loot;

Unscathed; his wicked suite;

Without even a trace;

He left, except;

She alone simmered; blushing;

Just for a few moments-

With the memory of his touch;

2.  

Her warm lips; Indulgent sips;

Hot & wet; in bartered bets;

Lisps truncated; thy cusps violated;

Shudder & shiver; Blunder & shower;

Her warm lips; kisses; nips;

My eye lids close;

Darkness binds.

Blights-

Ten fingers blind;

Fumbling to find;

Thy elephant’s kind.

Nobody’s wiser; nobody cares;

When,

Her warm lips, in relishing zips,

Do care.

3.  

Very few are thy flowers,

Their buds; Warm suds;

Sodden; unbidden;

Pardon; alone not ridden;

A binge in bed; a tinge of red;

In ecstasy they burst;

Blossoms & Bust;

Blooms in thirst;

Bits of Pollen; bits swollen;

Drips; drops; dew props of honey.

Very few are thy flowers,

That flower first;

& root last.

4.  

Wine tasting; Thine lasting;

It’s Aroma arresting;

Relish riveting;

Each drop savored;

Each one love flavored;

Wine tasting; Fine yeasting;

A rare finesse;

Flair of rich ease;

Taste buds rejoice;

Chaste duds devoice;

Two cups together;

Wine tasting, in tether.

5.  

The sax was played;

 In silence of sorts;

Notes of parts; Keats of tarts;

Held & sled; around thy bed;

Man & women;

Not in parts; not anymore;

Listen close; your ears might lose;

Their embers of melody;

& there lumbers a sweet parody.

Author's Note-

Writing poems about sex and lust in a covert way- in it subtle hints and shy words has always held my fascination.There is I think a sublime line between the aesthetically pleasing and the vulgar in such poetry. With the above poetry, I wanted to make my readers blush and feel warm with love at the same time. And hence I indulged in a tinge of wickedness in the simple lines of love. I leave the shrouded implications to your mind's child. I extremely enjoyed penning the above lines. I hope, you guys- have a pleasurable experience reading them.

Tamil Version of the poem-

Tamil is a beautiful language tailor made for writing poetry. It is the soul of my inspiration as a writer. You need not think in Tamil, words will flow unbridled, bumbling in fountains, simply if you love her, love Tamil. She will entice you with her teasing curves, those sonorous syllables, the fierce passion of her written embers. 

Like most of my poetry, my initial version of the poem was in Tamil and I roughly translated the same to English.(Since a direct translation would water down the poetic allure of Tamil.)

PS-

The second poem is a direct reference to the famous story of blind-men and the elephants. If you want to know more about the related story and the John Godfrey Saxe's Poem about the same, kindly visit the given link.

The fourth poem contains direct references to wine tasting. (Though in Tamil, the poem is primarily about how to serve is joy, rather than being served.)

It was quite a task translating the Tamil poems to English. I have taken poetic licence in the translation to keep the wickedness and the joy in the poem true to it's original. For, guys - who could read tamil, I would really like to know - how I have fared.

If you would like to read more poems penned down by me, kindly follow the link.

And finally, I would like to thank my friend Joy for suggesting the title to me and also, asking me to write the English versions of the poem in a more descriptive and elaborate manner so that it will retain the beauty of the Tamil version and do justice to the same. And I hope, you guys can enjoy the Tamil version of it too. 

The spirit of sports - An experimental story.

The snap -




The dignity game – (7 sentences)


The match was dense, intense and heated up with hormones, sweat and energy scorching like sex for the first time in all its magnificence. Both the players were equally skilled, well matched and played with their own heart and soul on the line. Even the table tennis table must have sweat ed a bit along with the four walls – the lone spectators, losing themselves in the tension of the game. The ball was served for the game point, the last point and ball bounced on the table along with the heart of the two lone men fighting with each other and with themselves for to lose was unacceptable to them.

Damn Once again draw, draw for the 7th time in a row.

The tired players decided to take a tea break at the club cafeteria. The tea must have been too good, for they never returned to finish the game.


We are men - (5 sentences)

Nobody knew who started the fight nor did anyone remember who cheated at the game first. But that doesn’t really matter as what has happened has happened and there is no going back.
After all a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. A few broken bones, bruised knuckles, scars, scratches, cuts, a few drops of crimson blood shed, violence and fighting.
Of course they won’t be playing for a while but at least they made sure to show they are not pussies.


The credit - (3 sentences)

The jubilation and the celebration of the victory, a well deserved victory flowed and flooded the room – hugs, slogans, shouts, embraces, teases, friendly punches, shoulder slaps, smell of sweat, glory and victory.
“The winning ball goes to” the coach paused with the ball in his hand raised for all to see.
Expectations soured sky high, wavered with expectations and then bloomed fulfilled when the couch with a sparkle and a smile shouted out “the team”.


The loser – (1 sentence)

He lost the game but people respectfully made their way for him as he left the stadium, for anyone can win like a winner wins but only the real sportsmen, men who laugh, cry and break along with the sport can lose like a winner; for they alone love a sport for what it is and what a sport is is just love unconditional.


Author's note -

Sports is something that not only unites men but it is like a bond among us. I remember the fights, the fun, the wins, the loses when I used to play football for my team in college. This post in way is like a dedication to all those moments and those moments that await to put me in bliss in the future.

Guys, This is one of my experimental stories. I have started with exactly 7 sentences and reduced them from story to story to reach 1. I have not taken into account the word count as long as I can limit the number of full stops I use.

I would really love your take on my attempt. And If you loved the above then you will also love my other attempt of the same experimental kind that I wrote a few weeks back - the topic of my stories being the darker shades of women. You guys should try it out.[link]



PS -

And guys, one of my political tweets got featured in a BBC article. Check it out. My tweet is above the first picture - the one with the congress supporter with coolers[link].


I was so in seventh heaven when I came to know it. Nothing like recognition of your own words to boost you. Hariprasadm tweeted me about this. Thank you so much dude.



Cheers then guys...

until later.

muthu

Can boys Cry???

The Snap-

The Tale-


I am a bit of an avid reader and I believe that any good readable stuff must have more than literary finesse. May be, something originally refreshing. May be, something that challenges our present perspective. That would not only make an interesting read but something to reflect upon. I think I came across such a good piece of anecdote and not wanting to spoil it, I am quoting it in its exact words.


---A world famous bull fighter, the epitome of masculinity in his culture, entertained some guests in his villa one evening. After dinner he disappeared and one of the male guests went in search of him. He found the bull fighter wearing an apron and washing the dishes. The guest was appalled and blurted out, “How can you be doing such a feminine thing?” To which the bull fighter replied looking down his nose at the guest: “Whatever I do is masculine.” ---


Wow, the bull fighter did give a very good reply but I think that, there is more to the story than that. The bull fighter boldly challenges the perspective of not only his friend but the perspective of every single reader.

The guest’s attitude simply shows the acceptance of sex – role stereotypes by almost everyone in general, including you and of course also me.

“So what s wrong in associating the characteristics of being bold and brave (a bit bald too– just kidding) to be masculine and that of coyness and tenderness to the fairer sex?”


One may be absolutely right in asking the above question. But by role specifying the sexes, aren’t we becoming a bit too rigidly dogmatic, that we simply forget to be fare to ourselves?


Well, let me think to put it in better words or lets say, in every day circumstances.


I can be a bit of a cry baby. Good books, good movies, whatever touches me, makes me wet my eyes. Sometimes I get caught by my friends in one of those teary moments; they would give me that “dude you crying??? Look”. And of course my “ooh my god, my hand got stuck in the cookie jar” look never ever helps me and I end up feeling real bad that my friend saw me getting mushy.

Now, what’s so bad in a guy crying? Haven’t you guys been to a single movie that moved you that you had tears at the end of the movie. If not, guys you simply don’t know, what you are missing. Pity you. For gods sake there is more to Hollywood than mind blowing action, graphics and yeah of course hot girls. Even Hollywood action movies can pack some real good punches that move you in the end (like brave heart and the guardian).

Also in a way, as easy as it is to behave violently for a guy, it’s as easy for him to have emotional issues. And dude, you know what’s the worst part - guys can do anything better, I mean it anything better than expressing his own needs and feelings.


And of course what’s so obsessive with girls being sweet and soft. I loved it when Anjolina Jolie busted balls in her latest flick (Unless my balls aren’t the ones getting busted). I think that confident women are a real turn on than the usual “damsel in distress”. I simply hate the way regional movies depict love. Almost every single time the hero saves the day (always just in the nick of time) and the heroine simply goes gaga for him. Silly hindi heroines!!!

Girls let me tell you a secret; we guys simply love it when a girl enters a place head held high, hair thrown back, totally confident of herself and with a bold but elegant walk than the usual girl.


So defining stereotypes is too silly and purposeless. As silly as asking Salman Khan to wear shirts(of course nowadays every single hindi hero bares his body at least in a single song. What does the hindi cinema field has against wearing shirts, God only knows.)


So next time you catch your friend crying. Simply leave him be. (You simply missed the part where he got his chops busted by his girl- just kidding). After all, boys too can cry.