Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Creatures & Monsters
- Published: 12/10/2019
Of heroes, villains and the old world
Born 2000, M, from JAMSHEDPUR, India.png)
Of heroes, villains and the old land- a poem
By Ayush
ILLUSTRATION BY AYUSH
This is a story of olden times,
Times before the great bull trembled our land to death.
You won’t know of that time,
Our bards won’t sing of it, too.
You’re born here, in this new land,
You know the stories of this land-
You know the heroes of this land
You know the monsters here, also.
But you know nothing of the old land,
You know nothing of its dense forests,
Where spirits dwelt; evil, dark souls.
There were creatures; some beautiful,
Others too ugly for your innocent eyes.
Innocent, because they belong here, to this land
They have seen bright sunrises and tranquil sunsets
But in the old land, eyes were stubborn-
For everyday we’d witness brutality,
So monstrous, that the people of this land- your land
Would’ve had bleeding eyes had they seen it.
There were wolves, which looked like humans,
There were humans, who looked like wolves.
There were fairies, naked and ‘free’,
There were mermaids, with flaunting breasts
Who’d sleep with you and kill you, for material gain.
But those were olden times, as I said,
You’ve grown here, in this land-
With plenty rain and abundant sunshine.
This is better, this life is better, this land is better
This world is better.
The old world?
It’d heroes, some in hawk-faced helmets,
Some in armors that shimmered in the moonlight.
They were all brawny and brutal- bloodthirsty.
It was faint- the line between heroes and villains,
The difference between protagonists and antagonists.
There we got enough ‘Expositions’ to keep us emotionally invested,
Gruesome ‘Confrontations’ that’d make us look away,
Yet cheer for our heroes with bow, arrows and swords.
And the ‘Resolutions’ would often end in blood and gore,
Slain heads, severed genitals, fingers scattered all across the battlefield
Who’d win?
As I told you, it was hard to tell-
Both sides had equal lusts for blood, wealth and women.
We cheered, because we wanted a good story.
The characters would often go through personal growth,
Heroes would be handicapped, and villains would die.
If heroes died; the surviving villain would become the new hero.
It was indeed a good story.
We’ve fewer stories here, in this new land,
They say, it’s balanced on a mountain peak.
I forgot the mountain’s name, I’m sorry.
There were serpents there, humongous.
And there was a woman in the sky,
She’d swallow the sun and we’d call it sunset.
The sun would stay in her belly for the night,
Until it’d come up again like a baby comes out of a mother…
It was not a good place to be, that land,
But I loved it; at least I love it now.
You see, your past could be horrid,
But it’s a safe place to be.
It’s safe, because whatever it is- it has passed.
While the present, no matter how much better,
Always comes with a question mark.
It’s unpredictable, hence unfamiliar.
Unfamiliar; until it too, becomes happy past.
I don’t know if I’d choose it again,
But I do know that I miss it, the old land.
There were three brothers, I knew
Two of them died, one of cholera
The other was burnt alive for marrying a succubus.
The one that lived, was humped, tall and nude,
Some said, the succubus loved this humped brother
But was tricked, by the one who was burnt to marry him.
This humped brother would eventually be strangled in public
For mating with a fairy and learning witch magic.
You won’t see that tussle here, in this new land-
Love tussling with authority.
But whenever it happens, love loses and
A playwright writes a tragedy.
Those authoritarians, they were good men-
Until, they held the power.
Power corrupts people, boy
It takes away their senses
And it takes away their sensibilities.
This world is beautiful boy, I’m happy for you
Here, you get to choose the people, who’d be in power
There, the person in power was the one who manipulated the best.
I knew a boy once, a shepherd.
Slightly older than you and well-built too.
He was a happy man-
And in a place like the old land was, it meant something,
Maybe everything.
You see boy, happiness is a strange place,
Many roads lead to it, but none of them is the right one
Or the wrong one.
But everyone, knowingly, unknowingly, consciously, unconsciously-
Hunts for that game.
They’ve their ways, they’ve their weapons-
They head for it and fall in a chasm, never to come back.
The shepherd boy did what everyone does
He mistook happiness for satisfaction.
He thought he’d be happier, if people would
Remember him as a hero.
He donned a hawk-faced helmet, strapped a sheath across his back-
That contained a gorgeous sword; and went to hunt the monsters.
His hunt for satisfaction ended with him being devoured by the mountain leopards.
He drove the leopards away though, the mountain tribes who were
Afraid of the leopards, painted the shepherd boy’s story in their caves.
Only, he didn’t live to see it.
Satisfaction has always overpowered happiness.
Everyone who is struggling to find happiness,
Is actually looking for satisfaction.
This new land is gentle; people here are free to love,
The old world was different.
Of all the stories I told you-
This last one is mine.
I’ve slept with many women, fairies, mermaids-
You name it!
I married one too; she passed away three years ago.
All my life, I thought love and lust are the strongest emotions one could feel
But I was wrong, there’s something that a human soul craves for,
More than lust…more than love- because it’s the only thing that matters
Once you’d near the end of your material life.
Peace…
There was a man, a merman
He’d walk to a little pond hidden behind bushes
And would stare at the reflection of the moon on the
Gleaming, still water.
He’d be barely dressed and would often wave his
Hands across his sideburns.
A trident covered in algae at places, would rest by his side
And a mild smile, would hang on his lips.
I’ve loved women but I’ve worshipped this merman
For his peace.
He was rough, but he was a beautiful creature…
I don’t know if I loved that merman,
But for those moments that he was there
I wanted him to caress me.
I wanted him to know that I was there,
I wanted him to share his mysteries with me.
That pond was lost in the debris of the fallen land,
I never saw the merman again…
Again, in reality.
In dreams, he never left me.
He’d come and stand by me
And we’d calmly look at the soundless pond.
In dream, he loves me.
In dream, I’ve found peace.
And dreams, boy, are powerful-
But reality is where they come true.
*****
Of heroes, villains and the old world(Ayush Kumar)
Of heroes, villains and the old land- a poem
By Ayush
ILLUSTRATION BY AYUSH
This is a story of olden times,
Times before the great bull trembled our land to death.
You won’t know of that time,
Our bards won’t sing of it, too.
You’re born here, in this new land,
You know the stories of this land-
You know the heroes of this land
You know the monsters here, also.
But you know nothing of the old land,
You know nothing of its dense forests,
Where spirits dwelt; evil, dark souls.
There were creatures; some beautiful,
Others too ugly for your innocent eyes.
Innocent, because they belong here, to this land
They have seen bright sunrises and tranquil sunsets
But in the old land, eyes were stubborn-
For everyday we’d witness brutality,
So monstrous, that the people of this land- your land
Would’ve had bleeding eyes had they seen it.
There were wolves, which looked like humans,
There were humans, who looked like wolves.
There were fairies, naked and ‘free’,
There were mermaids, with flaunting breasts
Who’d sleep with you and kill you, for material gain.
But those were olden times, as I said,
You’ve grown here, in this land-
With plenty rain and abundant sunshine.
This is better, this life is better, this land is better
This world is better.
The old world?
It’d heroes, some in hawk-faced helmets,
Some in armors that shimmered in the moonlight.
They were all brawny and brutal- bloodthirsty.
It was faint- the line between heroes and villains,
The difference between protagonists and antagonists.
There we got enough ‘Expositions’ to keep us emotionally invested,
Gruesome ‘Confrontations’ that’d make us look away,
Yet cheer for our heroes with bow, arrows and swords.
And the ‘Resolutions’ would often end in blood and gore,
Slain heads, severed genitals, fingers scattered all across the battlefield
Who’d win?
As I told you, it was hard to tell-
Both sides had equal lusts for blood, wealth and women.
We cheered, because we wanted a good story.
The characters would often go through personal growth,
Heroes would be handicapped, and villains would die.
If heroes died; the surviving villain would become the new hero.
It was indeed a good story.
We’ve fewer stories here, in this new land,
They say, it’s balanced on a mountain peak.
I forgot the mountain’s name, I’m sorry.
There were serpents there, humongous.
And there was a woman in the sky,
She’d swallow the sun and we’d call it sunset.
The sun would stay in her belly for the night,
Until it’d come up again like a baby comes out of a mother…
It was not a good place to be, that land,
But I loved it; at least I love it now.
You see, your past could be horrid,
But it’s a safe place to be.
It’s safe, because whatever it is- it has passed.
While the present, no matter how much better,
Always comes with a question mark.
It’s unpredictable, hence unfamiliar.
Unfamiliar; until it too, becomes happy past.
I don’t know if I’d choose it again,
But I do know that I miss it, the old land.
There were three brothers, I knew
Two of them died, one of cholera
The other was burnt alive for marrying a succubus.
The one that lived, was humped, tall and nude,
Some said, the succubus loved this humped brother
But was tricked, by the one who was burnt to marry him.
This humped brother would eventually be strangled in public
For mating with a fairy and learning witch magic.
You won’t see that tussle here, in this new land-
Love tussling with authority.
But whenever it happens, love loses and
A playwright writes a tragedy.
Those authoritarians, they were good men-
Until, they held the power.
Power corrupts people, boy
It takes away their senses
And it takes away their sensibilities.
This world is beautiful boy, I’m happy for you
Here, you get to choose the people, who’d be in power
There, the person in power was the one who manipulated the best.
I knew a boy once, a shepherd.
Slightly older than you and well-built too.
He was a happy man-
And in a place like the old land was, it meant something,
Maybe everything.
You see boy, happiness is a strange place,
Many roads lead to it, but none of them is the right one
Or the wrong one.
But everyone, knowingly, unknowingly, consciously, unconsciously-
Hunts for that game.
They’ve their ways, they’ve their weapons-
They head for it and fall in a chasm, never to come back.
The shepherd boy did what everyone does
He mistook happiness for satisfaction.
He thought he’d be happier, if people would
Remember him as a hero.
He donned a hawk-faced helmet, strapped a sheath across his back-
That contained a gorgeous sword; and went to hunt the monsters.
His hunt for satisfaction ended with him being devoured by the mountain leopards.
He drove the leopards away though, the mountain tribes who were
Afraid of the leopards, painted the shepherd boy’s story in their caves.
Only, he didn’t live to see it.
Satisfaction has always overpowered happiness.
Everyone who is struggling to find happiness,
Is actually looking for satisfaction.
This new land is gentle; people here are free to love,
The old world was different.
Of all the stories I told you-
This last one is mine.
I’ve slept with many women, fairies, mermaids-
You name it!
I married one too; she passed away three years ago.
All my life, I thought love and lust are the strongest emotions one could feel
But I was wrong, there’s something that a human soul craves for,
More than lust…more than love- because it’s the only thing that matters
Once you’d near the end of your material life.
Peace…
There was a man, a merman
He’d walk to a little pond hidden behind bushes
And would stare at the reflection of the moon on the
Gleaming, still water.
He’d be barely dressed and would often wave his
Hands across his sideburns.
A trident covered in algae at places, would rest by his side
And a mild smile, would hang on his lips.
I’ve loved women but I’ve worshipped this merman
For his peace.
He was rough, but he was a beautiful creature…
I don’t know if I loved that merman,
But for those moments that he was there
I wanted him to caress me.
I wanted him to know that I was there,
I wanted him to share his mysteries with me.
That pond was lost in the debris of the fallen land,
I never saw the merman again…
Again, in reality.
In dreams, he never left me.
He’d come and stand by me
And we’d calmly look at the soundless pond.
In dream, he loves me.
In dream, I’ve found peace.
And dreams, boy, are powerful-
But reality is where they come true.
*****
- Share this story on
- 9
COMMENTS (0)