My Inner Mangaka :)

Recently, I have restarted my manga drawing sprees, thanks to binge watching a lot of anime all at once. I'm not great at this kind of a thing, but I just love drawing them because I can never get enough of this amazing art form.

Or, you could say it's a childhood thing. I don't know, whatever. :P

Today I decided to draw a scene from Nobuhiro Watsuki's famous manga, Rurouni Kenshin. (Once I start revisiting stuff it's kind of hard to stop myself and I've been stuck on Kenshin for almost, let's see, a month already!)

This is perhaps one of the best fights in the whole manga; the fight between Hajime Saito and Himura Kenshin. Both of these characters are fascinating in their own ways. Hajime Saito actually existed (check this out ->http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sait%C5%8D_Hajime) and he is probably the most badass character in this series. Oh well, and a couple of others. 


Anyways, here's a rough timeline of this sketch and how it came to be =)

 

                             

And Finally added some much needed colour to this would-be bloodbath.

So, until the next time I post a work of art :P Hope you liked this!

Lunch Break

So, this really is a lunch break post. And I have nothing much to say, but I felt like writing, so naturally, I shall go on.

Today is quite a beautiful day, and I have many beautiful thoughts inside of my head. It's strange how even the most poignant of thoughts seem to have an element of beauty in them.

I thought I'll share some of my thoughts with you today in this tiny blog post.

I'm thinking of flowers quite often nowadays. Not just any flowers, nor the cliched rose with its multifold symbolism. I have been thinking of lilies and oddly enough I've been thinking of sakura. It's a bit too late in season for the latter, but even though I've never seen a real one in my life, I can always close my eyes and imagine them. It is truly such an amazing sight. The sakura always remind me of my school in Singapore. There used to be a huge tree outside on the field, that turned white during April. The flowers resembled snowflakes atop a mountain and that particular scenery will be painted in my memory forever.

I've also been thinking of music. A recent event (The Lord of the Rings Orchestra) exposed me once again to the music of films. As much as I love music, the dialogue has always held importance for me. But that day, I realized the impeccable feat which Howard Shore accomplished with those films; and I'm sure nobody can recreate it. I have been gathering the soundtracks of all the shows and films I've watched and I'm listening to them again. I daresay it's bringing back a thousand nostalgic memories - of the days I sat in front of the TV at home, when I was just eleven, so carefree - relishing the taste of happiness in the form of magical fiction. When I think back I can even see the glittering dust on the carpet, the crystal showpieces on the wall and the aroma of my mother's cooking floating out to me. And this is indeed a beautiful thought.

I've been trying to think of 'love'. Not love in a personal manner of course. I've been thinking about the love others have portrayed. It gets me thinking. How can someone love so deeply? It truly is a rare miracle to be able to find that one person to grow old with. But it's an even bigger miracle to find that one family - not the blood-related ones - the real ones with whom you can die if need be. While most say that friendship is the basis of all loves, I disagree. I think love is the basis of all friendships and it makes me really happy that I have such friends to love and care for.

While most of us think that to fall in love is a big adventure, I don't believe this. I believe that the day we meet the special someone will be no different from the day we meet everyone else. In fact the transition from a lonely person to a happy pair will be so smooth it will be unnoticeable. I guess that may be how it is, because the most important person to you will complement everything in your life so perfectly. It won't be like in the movies when you realize something is different about your life. But rather, it will be so very ordinary, so very magnificent in it's own way - it will be like you have loved them all your life.

That's all for my thoughts. I think I should write down thoughts more often (?) because really sometimes it gets boring talking to your inner self. Or maybe, it's just me and my obsession with putting everything into words. Lunch break is coming to an end and so is this blog post. So, until the next post everyone! :)

A Letter to Authors

Look at that, Mrs Hudson. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. Isn't it hateful?

That's a quote from The Great Game for the Sherlock-illiterate. But that's precisely how my brain feel sometimes. I am so used to the chaos of a story raging inside of my mind, that when it all stops and my entire being is suddenly faced with nothing to do, I find it frustrating.

Right now, I'm figuring out what kind of story to read. It's times like these when the authors aren't writing to me, that I think I should write to them. 

And today, I have finally decided what to write. 

Dear Authors,

Or should I say blood thirsty murderers. Torturers. Horrible traitors. Today I shall speak my mind about something which has been annoying me for the past ten years of my life. Here I am, your loyal reader. I invest my soul into your writing, and what do I get in return? No, seriously. This time I SHALL SPEAK AND YOU WILL LISTEN.

All those nights your books kept me wide awake, staring at the ceiling - wondering. In agony. There I was with the book in my hand, reading on and all of a sudden you decide to kill off someone who I had grown to love. 

...You gave me death, and pain and suffering. 

You are authors, you would know. If you aren't most attached to your creations then who is? Aren't they like children to you? To a person like me, (who spent most of their childhood making friends with books rather than actual people), these people you created were my best friends. I went to Hogwarts with Harry, I walked Middle Earth with Bilbo, and I flew to Never Never Land with Peter. But what could I do when I saw them crumbling apart? I actually felt their pain. Written in ink, but imprinted with blood.

I haven't cried as much for real people, as I have cried for these friends.    

You ruthless bastards. You killed off not one, but many, many of my favorite people and sometimes it happened so suddenly, you left me depressed for days. Not out of sadness, more out of disbelief. How could this man or this woman, who went through so much crap, just die like that? You authors modeled heroes out of dust, to save human lives, to restore faith in the common man. You strive to prove that the weak are not meant to die, but to be protected. Then how can you simply wield a pen and kill them all? This pen truly is a strong weapon, much more dangerous than the sword. It kills swiftly, and it does not need you to move more than a finger to do so. 

And I know some of you overtly rational people will ask me why I choose to bring up such a foolish point. After all, the death of a character is sometimes imminent and necessary for the plots of stories. Besides, they are fictional. But a true storyteller creates characters out of love, and when they die in his magical web of twists and turns, I know he cries. Because, it's a bit like a mother losing her infant. It's a complicated, unconditional kind of attachment.

I've spent too many days lying anguished, hoping the dead come back to life. Why do the good people die? But it's needless to say, whether the writers are mortals or God himself, every time a great man/character dies, we are reminded of how excellence, for the sake of excellence alone, cannot live for long in a world with so many flaws. An Elysian lawn awaits the arrival of the souls of such people, who have done much good, and who need to rest. I believe someday, when I'm near the edge of life, I shall see those friends again. Even if they never existed.  

The truth is, dear authors. You hurt me. You betrayed the trust of my best friends...and you crafted their death. But at the end of the day, you taught me something really important - you taught me to live. In your own way, you taught me to face my fear of death and live on. You showed me a path, where the people I had grown to love were nothing but a reflection in the waters of time. And with a swish of your enchanted pen, you immortalized them.  

You have created characters which are so beautiful, that I wish they would exist in reality. I applaud the authors for giving birth to such wonderful (albeit tragic) creations. It truly is a sacred process. To disintegrate this process, with a few words for death must definitely be hard. 

After all those accusations I just threw at you, you must be wondering where this letter is going now. Well, I'm not content, but I'm not unappreciative either. Now that I've scolded you, I must also share with you a few words of gratitude. 

You weren't just authors to me, you were my mentors. I learnt from you many things no school could teach me. Your words made me build dreams, such awe-inspiring dreams which floated like fireflies on the ceiling every night before I fell asleep. You showed me worlds where the impossible happened, you showed me how the different rose out of darkness to stand out and shine. You paved a way for me to BELIEVE in love and happiness and joy. For every crazy ambition, for every ray of hope, for every healing act of kindness and for every love letter I have written...you were the men and women who inspired me. 

In short, you have made me what I am today. And without you I am nothing. You gave me friends when I was alone...you literally raised me up to walk on stormy seas. You did not teach me to simply hate the evil and love the virtuous. You taught me to recognize and admire a person for their ideals, and their personalities. Perhaps that is why most of my favorite characters have been villains, or conflicted anti-heroes. There is beauty behind scars, and an attractive quality to intelligence that surpasses the plain attitude of a traditional superhero or the cocky humor of a protagonist.

As much as I'm angry at your ill-timed betrayal (you usually kill people when I'm least expecting), I cannot deny that I am thankful to you. Every Enid Blyton, every Hans Christian Andersen...every Oscar Wilde has been a story worth recollecting for the years to come. I shall never forget how your words, the sweet music to my ears, made me fall in love a million times and over with the great romances, the wondrous classics that you wrote. Whether you are authors, or script-writers...or even playwrights, you have shared with me a piece of your soul with every book you've written and for that I'm eternally grateful to you. 

This letter really has taken an emotional turn. See what you did there to me?! You made me start off like a wasp, and now I feel like an absolute saint. So before I end this (with the usual courtesies), you better watch it ! Don't you dare kill someone I like anytime soon! Sigh. With your mind like a devil's workshop, how can I even trust you there. 

Turds.

Much love, and forever waiting for the next book,
A fiercely attached reader and an ardent admirer.

New Endings and Old Beginnings

Here's the infamous end-of-semester blog post, which if you're not aware of already, is a terrifying summary of everything that really happened in the semester. The truth is I have grown very lazy off-late and I have taken to looking at my Facebook photos to try and remember exactly what happened.

I daresay it helped.

So, let's categorize events!

1. FROZEN happened.

How can I possible elaborate the influence of this movie on my life? Frozen did what no other Disney movie has been able to do since The Lion King. The deep attachment that I have always had with Disney music just grew stronger. The beautiful animation, the absolutely amazing soundtrack; and to top it all up, Elsa!
The rendition of a girl with problems that parallel modern difficulties is flawless and heartwarming. No, I am not talking about ice exploding from your fingertips; god knows Bobby from the X-Men had enough of that.

I'm referring to the suppression of one's true nature to gain acceptance in society. Once Elsa sings Let it Go, there is no going back. THAT SONG IS STILL STUCK IN MY HEAD.

And I cannot Let it Go. This song has become an anthem.

Elsa suddenly becoming hot.

                                   

2. SHERLOCK happened.

I'd rather stay mute about the plots this time. They weren't extraordinary to be honest. But the editing and direction were as sleek and fine as ever. The lucidity of sheer cinematography has never been as thoroughly explored on the small screen, as it has been on Sherlock. It is true that the season finale had us biting into flesh because of the whole WHY aspect of it; nonetheless nobody we know in this series has actually died so far.
Let's hope Moriarty stays dead. (As much as I absolutely love him.)

Feels, feels and more feels. 

                                       

3. SELFIES happened.

Okay, this really isn't a new thing I know. But I got a new phone :') and it really was so amazing to have a working device with a front camera. I do feel awfully bad for my old phone; but I'm sure it will find a kind and reasonable owner. See, I just sympathized with an electronic gadget. But everyone who's reading this blog post knows how dear a phone can be to it's owner.

I could compliment this topic with all the selfies I took, but I'm afraid the other participants of the selfie won't be very pleased. After all, not every selfie is an OSCAR selfie.

Which reminds me!

4. The OSCARS happened.

Oh, yes they weren't as amusing and entertaining as last year's Academy Awards. But they were hosted by Ellen, the almighty awesomestest marvellous Ellen. To think, I actually completed Lab as fast as possible to run down to Utown where my friends were watching the event on big screen (I mean the TV, the only big screen we get in hostel).

Broke Twitter. Hell YEAH.

                                       

Then Adele Dazim was called upon and I think that was the fastest construction of a joke if there ever was. But the internet didn't react as much until the Academy denied Leo his birthright. There was a period of damp depression for a week, and I'm not lying when I say that.

Ok, this is now a touchy topic, lets leave it alone.

5. FOOD happened.

No, no I did not finally end up learning cooking. But, I did end up devouring as much food as possible. I've grown really hungry lately, or maybe it's just the lack of great food...let me rephrase that -great affordable food -which has ended up in creating a proper calamity. Thanks to my lovely friends, everyone in the world knows about my Chocopie Marathon (the day I ate 9 chocopies at a go) , which really wasn't supposed to be a great feat. I ATE MUCH MORE LATER.

*evil monster laugh*

6. I honestly cannot believe it, but UNIVERSAL STUDIOS happened.

After what seemed like ten years of planning, it actually happened. The thrill of every ride, the Transformer selfies and Mel's Diner. These are fond memories I want to capture into my heart and never forget.

Needless to say, I still freak out before every Mummy Ride. Going on a roller coaster with me is pretty much a laughable experience. Sigh. We finally got photos with our favorite Sesame Street characters! I really need to question my age sometimes. I don't think I have grown since sixth grade. But that's okay, I guess. :)

7. QUIZ UP and FLAPPY BIRD happened.

Thanks to a good friend who chanced upon my phone, and a crazy internet meltdown over a bird game.
I don't think I have crossed more than 15 in Flappy Bird, but Quiz Up really got me going. The truth is the advent of mobile phone games is the bane of humanity...but not a single *beep* was given that day.

However games like Flappy can be dangerous if not just addictive. The number of times I wanted to throw my phone off a cliff is alarmingly high. For a new phone, even higher.

What kind of sorcery was that?

                                     
So take heed, dear readers, DON'T download any of these games (if you haven't already).

8. TARANG happened.

This was one of the most memorable events this semester. A big bunch of University students gathered in a hall, with their blood boiling and their screams reaching banshee level...Tarang was a fierce competition. Okay, that wasn't an exaggeration. You need to be there to feel it. I have never been to a larger congregation of our entire batch. It's been a while since I felt the enthusiasm of a team spirit; the last time I was in tenth grade.

And boy it was good.

9. STUDIES tried to happen.

The point is, I am growing tired of the system. The whole 'survival of the fittest' strategy that has been employed here since Day One is wearing me out. I'm not longer studying to learn, I'm studying to fit in. I've come so close to giving up and dropping out. I really like learning new things; but the lack of inspiration in this place has completely choked me.
For once, I really hope I could see beyond the horizon to new places. Maybe, just maybe the enormity of my existence will help me to find a way to do better.

After all, there is so much more to life than great grades. And one thing I'm glad about are my hobbies, and the fact that they help me to move on.

10. LOVE happened.

With this absolute stranger from another part of the planet. He is bold and kind and we have so much in common! I like that he's nerdy; I even like it more that I have finally found someone who really thinks the way I do.

Okay, if you just believed what I wrote above then you obviously aren't a very close friend of mine. :P
I was kidding. Such a person obviously does not exist. Love did not happen, but friendship did. :)

I made a lot of new friends and I retrieved a few old ones whom I had lost touch with for several years. And I solidified the friendship I shared with those whom I love. The joy of keeping them close to me is unequaled.

Here's to more wonderful trips and parties and times together! Here's to more amazing sleepovers and birthdays and movies...the world doesn't really lack in happiness once you have people to grow old with. I'm just glad I have these awesome people (and animals) next to me.

Which brings me to the end of the post.
.
.
.
.
Oh, wait. I almost forgot.

GAME OF THRONES is happening!

I don't want this series to ever end. Even though I don't verbalize it often, I really pray that George R.R Martin does not stop writing after The Winds of Winter. The fascinating characters and the crazy twists. The only excuse to waking up every Monday morning before nine! Whoever thought we could still fall in love with characters? For someone who hasn't read all the books (yeah, that's a first) it is simply gripping. I hold on to my seat every Monday, for fear of falling out in shock.

All hail David Benioff and D.B Weiss. *All hail, all hail*

They look so good, all alive and all. *Tears*

                                 

This semester has drawn to a close. I'm here to stay over the summer, and I really hope solitary confinement (almost) will help me rediscover all my strengths. But on the brighter side, I'm learning something new over the Summer and I cannot wait! I'm afraid for there will be another blog post about that soon.

Till then, Happy Summer to all! :)

Everytime - Random Blog Post #1

I'm going to blabber a lot today. Because, to be honest I have nothing much to talk about.

There's this particularly beautiful song by Britney Spears, which I used to listen to during my 'emo' teen years. (Didn't we all have that phase? Yes, no you can't deny it, we all did. Whatever.)

And this is the twentieth blog post I'm starting to write today (currently we are crossing a hundred drafts), and it's probably going to fail me by the time I reach the end of it. But I will try relentlessly.

I tried poetry today, about five times, and it didn't happen. It's scary how sometimes I have a complete command over the English language and sometimes I feel like an absolute dinosaur. Like how did I even think I could speak without roaring like an idiot? No offence to those magnificent creatures.

I'm supposed to be sleeping. The day was long and full of terrors (yes, that's a Game of Thrones reference) and I couldn't close my eyes even for a second. I don't usually write this late into the night, because sleep often gets the better of me and I end up writing nonsense, but I'm writing anyways. See, I don't know what I'm writing anymore?

Let me write about combinations. I think rose petals and white satin make a beautiful combination. So does orange juice and umbrellas. Polka dots and straw hats. Red dresses and black stockings. Strawberry cheesecakes and  wine. Why wine? No, I don't know.

I also think castles make good sand. No wait, sand makes good castles. Or sands don't really make proper castles at all. Clouds do. I'm so happy. There's a sense of release when I talk about castles and life and dreams and love. Of building dreams and being in love. All at the same time. It's a magical feeling, unlike many others. Of waking up next to the one you love, and hearing his voice so early in the morning.

I'm half asleep by now, but I see many hour glasses. And what could be perhaps the most random post till date in my writing history. Great. Now I'm going to need to mix sarcasm in too. Maybe I'm stepping into the dream world. I see green meadows, and book shelves and parchment and ink and baskets full of cats. I see flowers, many many types of flowers, and I see origami paper. I see letters in bottles, and crushed paper with sweet notes. I see sketches I drew long back, burning in fire places, and then I see a hand reaching out to save them from being destroyed. That hand isn't mine. Oh, someone cares.

Zedd was saying something about Clarity? No they are all wrong. Nothing is clear. Or maybe it's just the song stuck in my head. I'm a little lost; but the thought of hearing voices for the last time, of the air of finality your departure brought into my life, is a bit too much.

I'm breaking open. I feel it in my bones. The devastation and surprise, but most of all, the pining alcohol racing down to consume me. Burn me. I'm dying a slow and painful death. But I might survive I might just.


Dreams should stop haunting me. Your efforts still haunt me. Stop haunting me. And maybe we can make a sweeter decision than all the rest.

The Apartment

And most of the people who read this title will know what I'm referring to. But then again, most won't. I hardly ever write an account of my life, knowing full well how boring it may sound to my ardent readers. A blog is hardly a teenage girl's apathetic diary, but then again how can I let this be?


The Apartment will forever be remembered as that one room where happiness collided in the form of happy, carefree minds. Where free spirits accumulated, where we laughed and cried and hugged and tried...tried SO hard to forget the real world behind. Where the existence of our being (although questioned a hundred times) was content to a point beyond measure.


We didn't have to try too much; when we met, there was a radiant beauty in the splashing raindrops, a flicker of light in the starless sky. Nothing mattered when we met, not the studies nor the work, not the raging competition nor the weighing responsibilities. When we met, we left the world a thousand miles behind and we raced ahead to catch up with our thoughts, shutting ourselves from the harsh reality.

And we thought of music, and films, and we talked of books and famous men, of the philosophies upholding life; of great ambitions and dreams and of life-changing decisions. And when we grew tired of all the work, we sang.

"If we should die tonight, then we should all die together."

The fire in the hearth burned brighter. The warmth in our hearts radiated to one another. What are we without these moments? What are we without each other?

Ten years down the line, when we look back at college what will we think of? Life throws problems at us which are the size of boulders. And when we are sad and down, what will we think of? Will our thoughts ever go back to this one Apartment? Will we ever find our way home?

We will grow. We will rise and reach great heights. But happiness cannot be found in someone else's heaven. We will fall. We will reach the abyss of darkness that will consume us. Hell is just beneath our tender feet. What of Earth? Will we never meet again, on this fresh green patch of merry land we call home?

I know we will. We will soar like eagles and become independent. But someday, when we look out at the city lights and the silent sea, we will remember the time when we met at The Apartment. And this beautiful thought will smell of old books and comfy sofas, incessant laughs and adorable hugs, but most of all, it will smell of you and me and all the little moments that 'created infinities'.

And in between these pauses, between your words and mine, we will find our Paradise.

                        

Fanciful Lie

Poetry which happens when you get a fleeting thought, and weighs on your mind until you formulate it into words. 


God rolled a seven sided die,
Then thousand snowflakes
in the sky;
Came down to rest here.

A flaming torch, a burning temper
Heralded a rather
unusual September;
He reached out to touch her.

She hadn't met him, she only thought,
Of all the temptations his
memory brought
She was waiting in silence.

Then she felt, his warm blue sweater,
Read his invisible
romantic letter
Spread her wings  to reach out.

Their fingers touched, and very soon
Her tear drops dripped
From a lunate moon,
Her happiness outraged her.

Love was the smell, of vintage wine
Of stale cigarettes, of
fresh green pine
But mostly, his breath engulfed her.

She watched him dance out of sight
Every single time, every
Glistening night
She knew then she loved him.

He spoke a little, he spoke a lot
Every second he spoke
he taught
Of loves and lives and fairy tales
Of legendary races and holy grails
And she fell into the abyss
Of a new found potion called
Love.

It was but... a fanciful lie.