Friday, June 20, 2008

A bird's view 1


Life is simple, really, as long as you aren’t a human.

Or it was, till these humans came into our lives.

And then, it became a whole new ball-game, or at least the view from this floodlight seems to be so.

Hi, I’m a bird. Now you may ask ‘Which bird?’ in which case you are most likely a

àRodent

à Snake

àHuman

The reason why I categorize you into these three is this:

A) If you are a rodent, then you fear me being an owl or a falcon or an eagle.

B) If you are a snake, you will most likely make a meal out of me if I were to be a sparrow, but at once fear me if I were to be a hawk.

C) If you are a human, which, given the fact that you are reading this, you most likely are, you neither care whether I am a fowl or whether I am a raptor. You would, and I know this for a fact, only be interested in my genus, my family, my species so that I might interest the people who are producing your film or sponsoring your school/museum or simply paying you a fine sum to stuff me with cotton or whatever you stuff our kind with.

You see, I'm not that dumb. And I can manage some smirk, can't I?

See, that’s the first mistakes you humans made.

You thought that having a 1500cc brain meant you’re the smartest lot on this planet.

Well smartness, my dear sirs and madams, does not arise from inventing the wheel or discovering fire. Fine, so you sorted out your transportation problems and your energy crisis only to have crude oil prices topping 100 dollars and a few holes being punched into the ozone layer. ‘So, what?’ you asked 30 years back; the ozone will repair itself and the oceans gonna absorb all the oil and the hurricanes are gonna slow down eventually and the green peace nut cases are gonna shut up and we can mint all the Dollar bills and we can buy all the oil in the world and make all the commercials and movies and sell all the walkmans and all the colour televisions and all the cars and jets and guns and bullets and rockets and submarines and migs and F-16s and lives and still end up in a profit.

You underestimate us. You think that the only playing field is the earth and its crust and the ocean and its depths and the mountains and the skies above it. Well, the truth is, that's about it. You ain't got much right now. You can't afford to lose it now, can you?

Save this planet, because right now you just can’t run off to your command starship with your tails betwixt your feet.

When Gaia erupts, she takes the mighty titans, the short-sighted cyclopeses, the visionary zeus and his ilk, and all the mortals along with her.

Oh, of course. I still haven’t answered one question. Which bird am I, you asked, did you not?

Well, I am a night owl.


Monday, June 16, 2008

The Temple of Zeus

“You know what a priest is Hermes? Do you know??? Tell me…do you know???!!!” rumbled his voice.

“No sir” was a timid reply.

“And what about story-tellers, hmmm…?”

“What about them, sir?”

“What about them…!!! You ask me what about them??? YOU ASK ME WHAT ABOUT THEM!!!”

This time, the demure voice was not to be heard.

“If they had their way, they’d make clowns out of us even before we’d have a chance to say apokálypsis!!!”

“Oh…” was the soft reply.

“Oh… OH!!! That’s the best you can come up with!!! Oh…

The voice thundered with mockery.

Silence

“What I meant sir was that they’ve done it already, haven’t they?”

The voice was timid but meaningful.

The behemoth turned around to face the streaks of light fidgeting about in the gloom. The pillars were occasionally glowing as the streaks approached them, rather in a very disorderly manner. The statues of a bull and a swan among others rested over tufts of cloud like mantle pieces. The sky was embroidered with stars thrown in at regular intervals to resemble the heroes of yesteryears.

“Yes…” lumbered the heavy voice. The moon shone past the colossal silhouette and cast infinitely long shadows of the pillars. Even she didn’t feel her best today.

“Don’t you remember sir, the one meant for the kids? Though I did enjoy my portrayal in…”

The voice was lost as sudden flashes of thunder emerged out of the dark clouds hovering above the colossus’ head.

“Yes…” rumbled the deep voice “and what about that Kratos fellow?”

“Well, eh…”

He was right though. Ares was being kicked around all over the world as if the most devalued stock in a bustling market, and even with the recession, it did mean lunacy. But to tell this to Zeus would probably result in Vulcan popping of his cork for no reason at all. ‘Gosh!’ thought Hermes. ‘I’m even beginning to think like the cartoon Hermes’.

“And the irony of it all! Imagine them, these men, disrespecting my son, Ares- the god of war, and that too when the most widespread occupation of these mortals seems to be war itself.”

Zeus had a point thought Hermes. There was a reason the Spartans liked Ares. Now look at him. Abased into oblivion. Even the guys down in California didn’t spare him. Always being turned into a villain, getting his butt kicked by Xena or Athena or Herakles.

“Herakles…”

“Yes, what about him?” inquired the deep growl.

“Well, doesn’t he seem to be a bit too popular? You know the movies are more about him than us. And he’s always a good guy.”

“Hmmm…” sighed the voice. Suddenly there seemed to be a quality of ancientness lurking in it, a sense of tiredness. “The boy deserved it. Look at the amount of pain those men in the past had belted out on him. Twelve labors and then getting him killed by his own wife; it seems he always had it going tough for him. Oh…those ones born out of wedlock; they have it so hard on them.”

Another sigh followed. But Hermes didn’t take particular notice of it. He was busy trying to figure it out. ‘Herakles born out of wedlock? But wasn’t he the son of Zeus and Hera? But what does Zeus mean?’

“Sir, I cannot quite comprehend what you just said.”

“Yes, yes… how would you? It’s hard being a father…”

“No sir, I mean Herakles being born outside of wedlock… I remember him being your and Hera mam’s son. That’s what they showed in the movie Hercules.”

For a moment, Zeus could almost observe the streaks of lightning flashes come to a halt. He could observe doubt on the blurring face of his favourite messenger. He saw naivety.

“I would not blame you son” he spoke in a gentle voice, “for if I were to be depicted in as many comic books and cartoons and commercials as you, I would have a mind as fickle as yours. Really, your question has done more to eradicate my belief in my own existence than any atheist group downstairs. Look how frail your mind has become. It is as if you were a mortal whose destiny was being written down by men rather than having it the other way around. It is as if the gods have lost all their values and men have become gods. With all honesty, I feel more like a mortal today than when the Greek writers made me seduce all the women back then, conjuring up all sorts of animals to fool them into falling for me. And seriously, how did those ones fall for animals, I mean all that was needed was me turning into some handsome stranger. It wasn’t that Hera did not already know about it. But that is not the point, now is it dear messenger. The point is…”

Zeus did not finish his statement. Rather, he could not for his attention was grabbed by noises of scuffling coming from downstairs. Hermes could observe that his gentle face was replaced by a monstrosity.

Zeus’s voice thundered

“Artemis, hide behind the clouds. Heroes and sons, fade out. Hermes, it be best you don’t show up for some time. Now! all of you.”

Apollo broke into the temple panting and puffing.

“Zeus, my Lord, he’s here. And no one can stop him…”

Hermes heard him pant and spill his lungs out while he took cover behind a pillar. The constellations of the heroes had disappeared behind the clouds, as had Artemis in her lunar form. Suddenly there was a great thud as Apollo was suddenly air-borne. The dull thud after that was the one due to his falling back. The dust settled in some time to reveal a bald man with blood in his eyes and the blades of Ares fused into his arms. He was Kratos, for Hermes could recognize the new God of War from his attire.

“Zeus, your promise is due…and your time is up.”

Between the ticks of a clock, for an infinitesimally small time Hermes saw Zeus’s eyes soften. He recognized those eyes. They were the same ones piercing into his face when he had almost veered to a halt, when he had his head bursting with doubts, when Zeus had explained to him that they were the mortals, the ones whose destinies were malleable, and the ones who were a part of the popular culture.

Hermes chuckled to himself.

It was the final level of the PC version of God of War II.