The Wanderer...

0300hrs - Obscure room with lots of books.

"Max, listen to me, for I don't have much time left. You have to stay strong. No matter what happens to me, never think of life as unfair. Yes, things happen that are beyond your control, but you are made out of stronger stuff. Follow the map, it will lead you to where you need to go."

Knocks on the door turn into bangs, then hammering, and finally the door gives way. George is lifted harshly off the ground, where he was trying to shield his 4 year old son from the harsh claws of mercenaries.

The mercs leave a shaken Max weeping uncontrollably, amidst his father's screams of mercy. One of the thugs points his 9mm Berretta at young Max. Max is too frightened to even blink. Thug laughs, reaches into his side pocket and fishes out a shiny object. He tosses it at Max. Max makes no attempt to catch it. It lands with a pinging sound. Thug shrugs and walks away, leaving a tearful young Max staring into the distance, at nothing in particular. When he awakes from his trance, he heads over to where he thinks the object landed. After a short search, he finds it. A bit dirtied, but shiny nonetheless. He wipes it with his shirt and holds it up in the light. He can barely make out the shape of wings. He turns it round and the same image presents itself. He pockets it and cries some more...

20 years later...

1516hrs - Small restaurant in dusty suburb

Sun is blazing mercilessly, as though to discourage any and all daytime activity. The restaurant is just as warm. No air cons and the fans have long since developed cobwebs. She waits, still. Takes a sip of her Tusker and glances at the wall clock.
She's been waiting for 8 minutes, but it feels like an hour already.

She spots a guy walk in. Looking quite amused at the lack of activity in his favorite restaurant. He sees her, smiles sheepishly, and walks over to the counter.
Asks for an ice-cold Novida. He gets it promptly. He turns around and makes a beeline to the maiden in waiting.

"Black and green make quite a match, don't you think?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I mean our respective bottles. Your black and my green."
"Oh... So what's your point then?"
"I can bet that whoever you're waiting for will order a Tusker when he gets here, just to 'show' that you have similar interests."
"Actually, he does that a lot."
"Ah, where is he, if I may ask?"
"He's around. You should probably get moving."
"If i wanted to, I would have. But how can I return to a normal life after my cosmic state of balance has been so pleasantly interrupted?"
Eyes gleaming with pleasure... She smiles.
"Well, since fate has decided to entwine our strings of existence, we can as well make the most of it."

Phone rings. He answers. "Post Office. 20 minutes." Line goes dead.
He gets up and walks to the counter, says something to the bartender and returns a number of minutes later.
"Where were we?"

"You were about to tell me your name."
"Bruce."
"Janice. Nice to meet you, Bruce."
"I perceive it is a mutual pleasure. I need to go now. I'll keep in touch."
"I already have your number."

He smiles, nods, and walks out. She gets her phone and dials a number.
"He's on his way." She looks again at the photo in her hand...

Black Monday

You'd think that when you have a certain level of interest in a lady, everything seems to point to her 'interest' in you as well. That wasn't so this particular day.

Being a holiday, he decided to go check on his 'lady of the lake' and try to progress in his quest to capture her heart. Sure enough, he finds her there. After the customary pleasantries have passed, they settle down to watch a movie.
Everything's going on smoothly until he decides to get up and go sit right next to her. But in that instant, there's a knock on the door. Enter Derrick. They hug, he sits next to her, still holding hands. In better/bitter words, 'the other.' She actually has a boyfriend! This kind of, well no, it actually throws him off-balance. And she knows it...

Desperate times call for...

Grunts and groans. They can barely be heard over the din all around them. Every man seems to have his hands full, except these ones. Face on the dirt, all he can breathe is stale, dusty air. The smell of blood and sweat is thick in the air. He starts to feel delirious. His vision is clouding, all he can hear are distant, muffled sounds. Yet all that's on his mind is the task that still awaits him.

There's absolutely nothing intimidating about his nemesis. And yet the fate of two cities lies in his hands. He's a polite, well-mannered young man. However, it's not his demeanor that is scary; it's his skills.

There they are, two men in the midst of the chaos. One will rise, the other will fall. they've been at it for minutes, but it feels more like hours. Both men are incredibly skilled, yet this duel is more than that.

The situation seems grim. One is standing, the other is stooped, trying to clear his lungs of the blood caused by a series of blows to his chest. He's almost out of breath. The young man brandishes his sword. It's quite a masterpiece. Only three of its kind. The other is in the hands of his adversary. The third is in a museum. The man on the ground is in an unfortunate position. His is a broken sword...

(BHH Tomorrow!)

Of actors and puppets: Painted faces

Time check: 8:30am. Gotta pick it up. Now, where are those new shoes she bought? Ah, she's found them. Rowdy little things, moreover on their first day of duty. These shoes and the lovely floral dress are sure to stop many a man in their tracks! She'll make it a point to waltz in a little late, just to cement the point. 'They have to notice me,' she thinks. Someone will have to make a move after they get an eyeful of this!

Time: 9:15am. Now, where's that watch. No, not the Casio. It's not for days like this. Today's Omega. Exclusive timepiece, this. One would surely stare in amazement. He'll don the striped long-sleeve, folded enough to highlight the jewel on his wrist. Deo's up and running. Coupled with Clarks, he's off. He's sure to make it in time. This time, they won't be taking him so lightly!

9:50am. Crowd's piling. Almost time for the showdown. Drat, didn't notice the bean-soup stain from yesterday's supper. Ah, well, who'll notice. We're all here for the same reason, right? There, a little scratch got the most of it off. Good thing these jeans don't show the stain. Eh, today people are looking so prim and proper, you could think God's going to roll-call!

10am. Showtime. Doors open. The masses pour in. Soul-enriching music playing. Really peaceful atmosphere, this. Just what everyone needs at this time of the week. Wait, how come no ladies are coming to sit next to me? I think I chose the wrong seat. Perhaps I should move. Ah, all hope is not lost, for here comes a damsel. Boy, does she look fine. This is going on well.

"Turn to your neighbour and tell him/her how wonderful they look." A few shy glances later, and things are ok. One barely manages to say the words. She shrugs, unimpressed. Boy lacks finesse. If you won't do it right, why bother? He seems to think she's being proud, so doesn't try again. He's admitted failure. Perhaps better luck next time. She wonders, "Are all these guys that slow? Can't they see? Whatever, it's their loss." Bishop advances.

"You look wonderful." Oh, finally, an artful brother. She smiles, gives him a once over, and is quite contented. This ought to get her through the day. Meanwhile, sounds coming from the speakers barely register in their minds. By the way, do you have a pen? She checks. Oh ****, she mutters. He's astonished, but hides it quickly, with the usual dashing smile. It's like he didn't hear a thing. Goodness, she's located the pen. She hands it over. Knight takes bishop.

She can't seem to get her elbow out of the guy's side. It's not like the place's crowded. She just seems not to mind it. Who can blame her? It seems the deo's already working its magic. Those ads actually have some truth. He tries to listen to the proceedings of the event. Queen pins bishop.

Suddenly, phone rings. He forgot to put in in silent mode. He loses points. Radio belts his tunes. Talk of bad timing. She looks at him with a frown on her face. There goes the glorious afternoon, or so he thinks. Ignores the caller, coz he's pretty 'busy' right now. Besides, getting out to receive a call now won't help his purpose. Queen pins knight.

After the close of the event, it's finally time to 'socialize.' That can't be too hard. The problem is how to chat freely without spilling the fish soup. So, he starts with the classic ice-breaker, "Praise the Lord!" She responds with the customary 'Amen' and they proceed to engage in fruitless light banter. He brags about various titles in as many fellowships. She grins, and talks of numerous overnight prayers attended, coupled with countless prayer meetings. I didn't know conversation could be so vain! Surely, is that the only way to talk to a christian lady? Bragging? At least they come to agree on something: each one finds the other extremely boring. Rook takes bishop. Check!

Meanwhile, Miss Peacock isn't having it any easier. Surely, someone noticed. But when it comes to building rapport, this guy is none the wiser. Whoever told him compliments go a long way to charming the fair ones probably left something out. All that's coming out of his mouth are compliments. The hapless chap is gobsmacked. Has nothing to say more than, "Eh, kyokka you're smart!" No wonder the brothers are labelled slow. It's the empty tins that make the loudest noise. These guys should be trained in the sacred art of rapport. She turns on her heel and leaves, in total disgust. How could she have dressed to 'kill,' only to be approached by only one guy? An incompetent one at that! Stalemate.

Ah, the best laid schemes of mice and men...

If you think clothes make the man, take him to a restaurant. Post me your findings. I will gladly applaud you for the results of your tests.

Same script, different cast.

Gods and Generals - Reinstate

Adam sure did sell us cheap! Just a bite of fruit? He could've done better than that. That's a picture of how much we can lose in just a moment of carelessness. Why carelessness? Well, since time immemorial, guys have left their women to wander off unattended, only to reap the consequences. From here onwards, ladies stop blaming your guys for 'tight-marking' you. Anti you know how history tends to repeat itself.

So, Adam sold his rights to this earth to that snake and...well most of you know how that story goes. In short, our status as Generals was lost that day. We became mere paupers, at the mercy of the current landlord. Until about 2000 years ago...

The God amongst men decides to do what's necessary. Never send a man to do God's job. In short, he reminds the snake who's in charge. Snake gets the point, amidst stifled pleas for mercy, anti the God-man has his heel on the snake's throat. So much for the terrifying landlord. The bugger's a sucker when it comes to The Lord. So, He demands for the keys and the title deed, which he hands over peacefully, and the God-man walks off to begin his restoration duties. As a reminder, the snake is left toothless..

He said, "As many as believed in Him, he gave the right to be called children of God." And also, "I say, ye are gods, and children of the Most High."


TODAY

Apparently, were supposed to be gods. Well, not the gods that people come and sacrifice goats and chickens to as a way to get rich quick. No, neither the kind that demands worship and honour. NO. We are gods that are in authority over this earth, to multiply and subdue it. To be responsible custodians of this gift called 'planet earth.' Not behaving like those chaps in strikes who vandalize their own property! That means I tell that dog to stop chasing me for its own pleasure. Tell that mosquito to keep its malaria to itself, for I don't need it. The gods whose words have power and effect. Say it, and you shall have it. Indeed, to be gods among men, yet servants to our neighbours. Selfishness just doesn't fly. It never hurts to help every now and then.
I don't mean that they/we should be arrogant gods... Just be a human being who knows that the world belongs to us, not the other way around. Not to find ourselves chasing after mirages we call the pleasantries of life. We need things that last, things that stand the test of time. The rest is just stuff that gives some ease to our lives, providing some comfort.

We are in the world, but not of the world. Make the most of thine lives, all ye for whom the bell tolls. For one day, we'll face our Father and he'll wipe every tear from our eyes, or ....it's a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the Living God.

We could have been generals, but we can be gods...

Heroes are born, but Villains are made...

Ah, here we go again...

It's a common phrase that heroes are remembered after they have died. Quite true for most, until the advent of the 'superhero.' Then heroes started to live longer, and the cowards cheered them on, or got them to run strange errands. Who tells a superhero to rescue a cat stuck in a tree? The insolence!

Back to the gist of this charade...

Once upon a time there was a boy. He was the least favoured in school. Always picked on by the jocks because of his diminutive stature. Nevertheless, he kept creeping forward with his life, coz life at school was far better than that at home. Who wouldn't want a break from an abusive father and alcoholic mom? So, as an ordinary boy, he has a huge crush on the most popular girl at school. Of course he's had this crush since kindergarten. She just happens to be in high school now (A-level, if you will.) Jock knows Recluse loves the girl entirely, but tries to frustrate his every attempt to woo her.

All the recluse ever sees in his life is injustice. Nobody is bold enough to step up to the plate and bat the ball out of the field. For all he knows, everyone is a coward in their own right. But he knows he can be different. He can step up. His is not direct approach, but stealth, subtle in his dealings. Meticulous in his habits.

Surprisingly, the jock has similar parents. His dad is not only violent, but a perfectionist. His excellence in sports is just a front for his otherwise broken soul. He prefers that the people around him don't see his misery. But he's resolute. His determination is rock-solid. His heart unwavering.

At the last dance, it would be his dream to ask her to dance with him, and he almost does, until the handsome jock beats him to the punch. He's broken.

Fast forward, 10 years later...

One is a lawyer, the other a banker. Both are businessmen. None got the girl in the end. She left the jock for an older man. She married him for the money. Well, wasn't she a social climber? The older man banks with the banker, and the lawyer does his legal stuff.

You tell me who becomes the hero and who becomes the villain...

TO BE CONTINUED

Villains: Face-off

I'm not going to lie to you...I love movies!! I hear you mumbling, "Duh! Who doesn't?" Are you done? Ok, let me continue.
I love certain kinds of movies, but today, Ima talk about ze action sci-fi genre.
Now, these are characterised by not-so-musclebound lead actors with lots of toys at their disposal. So, it's usually a battle of wits rather than brute strength.
I have learnt that in these flix, the villain makes the movie hot. I can hear the cogs squeaking as they turn in some brains. In simple terms, the badder (read suave) the villain, the better the flix, even if the protagonist is a half-wit.

Presenting three case studies:
Who can forget the enigmatic, ruthless, smooth operator known as 'Agent Smith' of the Matrix trilogy? Villainy can hardly have a better benchmark! Not just strong, but a schemer as well, to be dealt with by running away, not facing him.
I would be glad to have had the opportunity of fleeing from that guy!



There's the unforgettable, mysterious, happy-go-lucky, pragmatic Clown Prince of crime...The Joker (The Dark Knight). This one redefined the elusive villain. No brawn, all brain. The Batman sure had a hard time with this one. 'He can't be bought, bullied, reasoned, or negotiated with.'



But this year was the year of the Doctor/Cobra Commander (G.I.Joe: The Rise of Cobra). Man, that guy's demeanor is as imposing as it is terrifying. His cold, matter-of-fact voice was the killer! Such a green snake in the grass, indeed a symbol of lethal purpose, unseen until he strikes! Even if the movie were to lack depth, that guy's scenes were my favourite.



Of course there are others, but feel free to make you're own list. These are the ones who have my slice of the cake. For those in contention, it's not up for discussion.