here i am
at your mercy
praying for your forgiveness
repenting for my sins

i take a deep breath and try
to convince myself of my innocence
but with every elapsing moment
i look for your reassurance

(bridge)
and i know that I’ve lost myself to
the night
to my core of imperfection, i still
hope to find

(chorus)
its not easy to run in circles
to get a hold of who i used to be
its not easy to chase you down
you’re everywhere, but not with me

here i am
knocking at your doors
to see a piece of the paradise
that is so undoubtedly yours

i wish you would let me in
and let me bask in your glory
wash my wounds with your own
hands
and relieve me of my agony

(bridge)
and i know that I’ve lost myself to
the night
to my core of imperfection, i still
hope to find

(chorus)
its not easy to run in circles
to get a hold of who i used to be
its not easy to chase you down
you’re everywhere, but not with me

Rob stared at the screen ahead of him. His agile fingers patiently placed on the keyboard. He typed, “The fumes of the flame coming from Zack’s room” and hastily hit the Backspace button to clear the screen again. This has been his progress in the last few days.

Rob was literally at a loss of words. He had to write something, anything of worth. And he felt the words right under his skin, ready to erupt, but yet not quite. He fought back the urge to give up, as he had done countless times over the last week. Taking a deep breath, he tried to rid his mind of unnecessary thoughts and tried to come up with a different beginning for the story he was planning to write. He didn’t know what the story would be about, what its plot would be, or how it would follow. But he had to write. He had to get rid of the ideas that were already blocking his chain of free thoughts, so that he could make room for new concepts and plots for his fictions.

All I have to do, he thought, is to just write the first paragraph. The rest will figure itself out.

He gave it another try, trying out a different approach. “While the crescent moon smiled down on the moss adorned driveway, Zack turned the temperature up a notch in his room heater.” He paused, waiting to find exactly why this fictional Zack would turn the heater up in a deserted house, as implied by the accumulation of moss in the driveway.

“Could it be that his girlfriend was coming over? Nah, that’s too simple. And besides, who calls his girlfriend into a dirty house? He could be a ghost; but then he wouldn’t need the heater. How about a smuggler? Too mundane.”

Rob’s ability to antagonize his own creations was what he thought held him back. He tended to over think every piece of detail he wrote. Everything he thought sounded music-perfect inside his head seemed to take a whole new level of banality the moment they were out into the real world – the world that he physically lived in, but lived not zealously. Don’t be quick to judge him, he was not a suicidal kid with thick scars on his wrist, neither did he take fancy in self-demeaning poetry. He loved being alive, enjoying the small things in life, going to local concerts with his friends, and listening to contemporary music alongside Guns N’ Roses classics. But sometimes when life would come down too rough on him, he would hide behind some paperback book – something by Chuck Palahniuk, presumably – and crawl off the physical world and enter a world without impediments. In those moments, Rob would imagine a life that he wished he could live, regardless of how normal his life was.

In fact, he would live that unattainable life through the characters of his fiction, however ephemerally that might be: he would be the front-man of a punk-rock band, singing his heart’s fill; he would be a comedian, making his audience laugh along to the humor that seemed to elude people in the real world; he would be the beau of his real world crush, who would, again, seem to enjoy his jocularity.

Not me; Zack, Rob would sometimes think with a quiet, sardonic chuckle. Zack was the signature character in his writings.

Rob’s cell-phone vibrated, snapping him out of his reverie, for his chain of thoughts had digressed far from what it set out in pursuit of. The backlit screen displayed a reminder that the deadline day was already upon him. Like I need reminding, retorted the voice inside Rob’s head.
Taking a deep breath, Rob tried to regain his original chain of thoughts. Suddenly an idea crossed his mind. After just a moment of dilemma, he cleared the computer screen once more, and started typing what he thought would clearly unload his thoughts into words, “Zack stared at the screen ahead of him. His agile fingers patiently placed…”

And so it went.

I would stay there. I really would.

But I had to take some time to think, to make up my mind. I need to see where I can take myself. You were always there, but yet somehow you weren’t. So I decided to try and make something out of myself. No matter what happens, how bad things get or how many nights I’ll sleep without food, the blood will be on my hands. That way, I won’t blame you inside my head, and I’ll know I brought this onto myself. And that will keep me going…that will keep me loving you.

I was screaming for some attention, and the more I got it from the world, the less I wanted it from them…all I needed was your attention. All I wanted was for you to understand me, for you to hold me close and reassure me that life would turn out the way I wanted. But you were always too busy. And when I walked up to you to talk about how I felt, you would push me away, yell at me, and tell me that I was always at fault for everything. You were always preoccupied whenever I saw you. And somewhere I felt that we had drifted a long way apart, that we were probably never in the same boat to begin with. But I loved you. I always did.

So I learned to stay away. I stood at a distance, listening to the loud music, chain-smoking cigarettes, writing self-demeaning poems that I never showed you, slitting my wrists, doing everything I could to catch your attention. And yet, you never noticed. And I started blaming you for everything that went wrong in my life; I didn’t know better than that. Don’t get me wrong there – although I secretly profaned you in my mind, I never stopped loving you. And I hoped and I prayed that one day, you would love me too, and show it, and mean it.

Whatever I did was always wrong. Whatever I didn’t do was still wrong. I couldn’t understand what you wanted. I tried and I tried and I tried to change myself, but I could never catch up to your expectations. I just don’t think I can stay like this anymore.  And so I picked up my bags, opened that darn door and left, and didn’t look back. I don’t think you even noticed that at first. Where I am now, I can’t tell you; or rather, I don’t wish to tell you. And that’s why there is no return address on the envelope. As I’m writing, I am sitting under a bright sodium lamp-post. And I’m quite tipsy. Maybe that’s why I finally gathered enough guts to write so directly to you and tell you about whatever I told you about. Pardon my poor writing quality, I know you would be very disappointed to read this but honestly, my brain isn’t letting me think clearly.

I just wanted you to know that I’m fine, wherever I am. Don’t waste your time thinking where I could be, because I won’t be there. I don’t know when I’ll see you again. But it was important for me to leave home, ma. I’ll come back when I’ve had found enough reasons not to blame you. I’ll come home when I’ve made something out of myself, so that you would no longer be disappointed at me.

I loved you mom, and I do. I wish I could’ve made you proud of me.

Your son, with love,

Zack

If you are a football fanatic, I’m sure it’s not new news to you that two giants of two different European leagues will battle each other to climb up the ranks in pursuit of the European glory of the highest tier – The UEFA Champion’s League trophy. That’s right, Real Madrid and Manchester United will be fighting it out for European glory of the season, and some are already considering this fixture to be the biggest match in the Round of 16. Regardless of which club you support, you definitely are looking forward to this match!

For those who don’t know already, the first leg of the tie is due on 14^th February, 2013 at 01:45 AM (Bangladesh Standard Time), and will be held in Real’s home ground – Santiago Bernabéu Stadium.

You certainly want the club you support to win, be it Madrid or Manchester. But more than that, you want to rub the victory of your team on the faces of your friends rooting for the opposition clan, right?! Now in the two weeks to come before the match, there are a few things you can do; uh, scratch that, there are few things you MUST do. Check them out, all ye soccer maniacs!

1.      Initiate trash-talk. Find friends who support the team you are opposing and verbally assault them. Use every cussword you ever learned and diss their players and manager. Be blatant. Pull out the statistics from the internet and batter them. Don’t hesitate to contradict their relentless references to their club’s history.
Cautionary: Make sure the victim of your trash-talk is not the son of a prominent local/national figure. You don’t want to mess with the Zohan of your neighborhood!

2.      Antagonize Ronaldo and/or van Persie. Send hate mails to them, provoke them. Play with their minds the way they play with that ball. Show them how much you hate them, even if you secretly admire them. Do everything in your capacity to ensure they don’t score. United fans, you have double the reason to send hateful tweets on CR7’s way – he left you, and he’s playing against you. Put those darn hash-tags to use!
*Cracks neck*
*Cracks fingers*
*Turns on Caps Lock*
# IT.IS.ON!
Cautionary: Use pseudonyms. If CR7 or RvP scores, chances are they will mention your name followed by a bitter “In your face!”

3.      Epic social media awareness. Change your Facebook profile picture to that of Real Madrid or Manchester United’s logo. Keep the statistics alive. Never update a status or tweet without outrageous howls of “Hala Madrid!” or “Glory glory Man United!” Act as if you are the spokesperson of the club. Show the world you are a die-hard fan of the club, though in reality you don’t even know the names of their managers. *Ssshhh! Nobody needs to know that.* And don’t forget the hash-tags!
Cautionary: Deactivate your Facebook account and switch off your phone if your team loses; the haters are surely coming after you.

4.      Bully and bet! You read it right. Bully your friends opposing you. Invite five friends over to your house – 4 supporters of your team, and 1 of the opposing clan. Team up against the lonesome one and repeat instruction 1. Add flavors by gallantly making a slap bet. You know the rules: if your team loses, the loner gets to slap each of you once; and if yours emerges victorious, all of you get to slap him, one apiece.
Cautionary: Pray you don’t get slapped more than praying for your team’s victory.

5.      Break up with your significant other! As harsh as it sounds, it is the best thing to do. Why? Because the match is at 1:45AM on Valentine’s Day! Would you rather watch the match or sweet-talk with your lover in the middle of the night, like you do every other night? Football or flowers? Penalty kicks or chick flicks? The choice is yours and yours alone. Unless you want my advice, in which case, break up! Break up before he/she nags you during the entire length of the match!
Cautionary: Try to pull it off as a quarrel in case your team loses the match. You need a shoulder to cry upon, after all!

Now that you have a guideline on what to do in the two weeks before the transnational derby, get down to work. Don’t forget to mark your calendar for the match day. Miss the live broadcast on TV, and the shame is on you. Sacrifice work in that morning, if you have to – it’s for the greater good!

P.S. The author is mentally challenged, almost. If you are a sound person, value your sanity by not following the instructions.  #GGMU. Just saying.

For a moment, the stairs seemed like a music equalizer, dancing up and down with the loudness of the music. The higher you went, the louder and the more intoxicating the music became – like an anthem stuck in your head, a perfect symphony. It was indeed one of those moments for me. As I slowly climbed up the stairs to the place where I knew I would find serenity, I could feel the air around me change, as if supplying me with ample oxygen to grasp my increasing power. There was no one waiting to welcome me to my shrine, no subjects to hail me, and no stallions to take me to a far away wonderland I can only dream of. Yet, what awaited me at the end of the ascending path was calling me, begging for me to complete the messianic journey and conquer the holy land.

                And I kept responding to the voice, and kept going higher and higher. This was my zone, the only place where I could find the answers to the questions imposed by my alternating persona. The closer I got to my terrace, the more the sense of responsibility sank into me, and yet it kept the loads on my shoulders decreasing.

                I stepped in. I roamed around for a while, with the sun beating in my face and a cool breeze cleansing my deepest fears, setting me free. I assumed my usual spot. This was what I had been looking for a few days now – a break from the chaos of life.

                I was at my best comfort level, but I kept wondering, is there anything I am missing? Is there anything more waiting on the other side of my empire’s boundary that had something more to offer to me? Was there more thoughts waiting to be saved from the eternal abyss of forgetfulness, where I had dumped so many dead thoughts without a second glance?

                On an average day when I barely get a free minute for myself, these ideas would be of no significance to me, and I possibly would chuck them out and never think again. But it wasn’t an average day; I was away from the deafening crowd. When I am up on my building’s terrace where nobody usually goes, cheerfully letting my imaginations glide across the boundaries of the subconscious, these ideas become the fuel of my thoughts and take the steering wheel. I have often thought about life in general while I was up there. I explored my possibilities, assessed my strengths and weaknesses, tried to understand myself before I start understanding the world, and they always precipitated in me feeling calm, relieved, and relaxed. There, I get to talk to myself in silence. I get the opportunity to reflect on my actions, and utilize the quiescence to make valid decisions that will help me mature as a person, as well as opening the correct gates in my mind’s eyes.

                It’s not every day that I get a chance to shut myself from the physical world and open up to the natural and humanistic aspects of existence. Maybe once in a week or two, I climb up the four flights of stairs and enter the world where I can alleviate my miseries, however ephemeral that might be. I believe that we all have our own places of serenity, and at times, these places become the ideal site of the ultimate stress-busting.

                As for the analogy of the equalizers, I do feel that way at times. But the bars are flipped for me, the more I climb, the greener the light gets from its carmine shades, and the lesser my worries and stresses get.

A very warm Eid Mubarak to all Muslims in all parts of the world! Have fun! :)