All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost;

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king

Oh we all have that mopey part in us at one or more point in our life questioning our existence and belonging and blah blah blah blah blah. It’s really neat, I wish my cousin had the same quest in him, that kid just ate all my french fries without so much as a how-do-you-do and questioned me for 15 minutes about the composition and mechanism of production of fart.

So I question myself. Where are my roots? I was born somewhere else, bred somewhere else, studied at one place and then the other, my house is in another area I live somewhere else and then college started and off I flew. Exciting, no?

Now what?

So I choose to study and work in another country now. Scary, right? So that is my quest now. Whether I lose or get there is another story. So from here on-wards, this is what this blog is about, because that is what my life is gonna be about.

Having a purpose to live is a neat thing. And I have missed it

Cheers!

Flying dog, Happy

 

(Title and Stanza:  J.R.R. Tolkien The Fellowship of the Ring )

Grave of the Fireflies

My house was burning

And I sat. Sat overwhelmed. Sat numb and pale. I just sat there. Sat watching everything burned away. I saw Dad’s picture eaten up by dancing yellow and orange flames. I saw Mom’s ornaments smashed on the hard floors. I saw the tablecloth I made last month stained with blood of my sister. I sat there. In my torn clothes and in my dead soul

What could I do?There were blackened bodies all around me. Blackened by the hatred that was never ours. Destroyed by the revenge that we never bore. Where could I go? I was stoned. Held to ground by a force that somehow spared me. Spared from the fate my family just witnessed. Spared from the end my whole city saw. What had happened?

All I remember was that air raid siren. Over the cries of the dead that is all I hear now. My ears ring with that gong of fear and death. All I see is Dad running towards me, beckoning me to run. All I hear is my sister dragging herself away, from the flames licking the house fast. All I know is Mom is somewhere beneath those hot logs. I knew I ran. I knew it was all over. In the fight to make the other lose, I had lost it all. Lost my beloved in a war that was never ours..

I knew I ran into the chaos. Those streets with men women and children for something. Life, loved ones what I don’t know. I don’t know why I ran. To save my life? My life? In that wild moment I just knew what Dad said. And I did it. Ran faster than everyone. Maybe from death itself. A race which every one in my family lost

Stumbling back to my burning home, sitting among the ashes of my love and my life. I never won I guess. Because this is what they gave me as my consolation prize. To sit with my bashed knees on grandpa’s soot covered sofa, to see this with these crazed eyes of mine, shaking with fear; Fireflies. All.. fireflies…

(for Japan and every single person who died and dies in my country. A reaction to the movie “Grave of The Fireflies”. The depression doesn’t leave my mind)