A box of Cookies

OMNIPOTENS Part-1  The night sky is just clean at the moment. No stars are seen, nothing, just a pitch black sky. Looking a bit down, there are glittering, sparkling stars that are nothing but the bright lights of the city lamps. With a sigh on his face and the wind playing with his hair, Atlas Richardson stood on the balcony carrying a face that had no expression. Son of an ambitious lord who had set his sights on establishing himself and his family at the very center of the power that vested in the region. Atlas's father, Ronald Richardson, was the pioneer of the foundation on which his empire was built. Atlas had not forgotten his father's contribution, but he had also not acknowledged it to the greatest of places. Atlas believed that his father had given up his human sanity and sacrificed his humanity to just sit on a metal chair that had gold and diamonds in it.  Atlas was now the emperor whose reign reached from the corners where the Scandinavian cold winds would bring t...

      AFTER EVERYTHING  That random noise is still heard by my ears That dark sky with no shining star is what my eyes wish to see every night.  The peace around me craves that conflict on which humanity resided.  The bogus run for money is what now my legs want to run. This abundance of food only reminds me of the scarcity which prevailed. This freedom around me is more like a bondage to the past.  These days of community are the embodiment of the eras of conflict.  These people around me, reduced considerably are the truth behind the previous hoards of billions.  There lies the open sky which had a breath of fire some years ago. There lies the cleanest stream ever formed in a gazillion years, the baby of the chemicals thrown into the water.  Those who have survived the battle for satisfaction of human greed, now seem to me as weaklings.  These days of peace are the ongoing reminders of the glories of conquest.  Just some smil...

HOW TO WISH SOMEONE A HAPPY BIRTHDAY?  Someone is excited for the birthday which is months away.  For someone cutting the cake and the screams around is just mere formality.  It seems the joy of happiness has just disappeared.   I have a cake in my hand, but the street is as busy as usual there is no response for even the slice of cake that is up for distribution.  It's not my birthday today,  Believe me when I say, I don't care about birthdays or tragedies happening around me. Today is different, I am first in line with the brightest smile on my face looking at that gloomy street with a colourful view in my eyes. I am ready to sing with my greatest voice.  I can even deliver joy in a basket if possible.   I will be the cheer of the day if that's all it takes to wish someone a happy birthday.  That's not all, tell me the secret to the stars, I will buy one for decoration.  Birthdays are the point in a year when the gloomy weath...

 IT'S SO EASY, MR BONAPARTE Little corporal, had just received the grandest welcome which the streets of Paris had ever seen. He had just conquered the continental Europe. All the glory was waiting for him. The people of France were just glorified with the restored pride of their country. People cheered all along the way till the palace and the decorations enlightened the entire city.  Europe was at peace. At last, there were no wars. People were happy, but it was all so lame for the little corporal. He was now confined to those petty affairs of the court rather than the rage of the battlefield. He missed the action of the war. The very thing that would define his legacy did not exist anymore for him. Even in the palace, he would find any opportunity to fulfil his thirst for action. None of his soldiers brought petty criminal matters of small robberies to him and he was totally annoyed with the fact. Finally, one day, when he was walking in the palace, he heard some ruckus hap...

 PAGES Older than time itself From the reigns of Alexander to the destruction of Europe. From Witnessing the darkest parts of men to their brightest glories. We are the first to witness it and we are the proof of the reality itself.  We are the source of power that everyone in the world wants in their palm.  Be it a Bandit or a King himself From the great legends to the most important secrets, all are vested in us We also hold the title of being the most mysterious.  Sometimes hidden in the deepest trenches and sometimes lying on the floor unnoticed.  Everyone begins their journey as a plain piece on the canvas.  Some are destined to contain the secrets for whom all the wealth in the world is mere dirt.  Some are as worthy as a pauper in the king's court.  This is us, ironically we are abundant  Used since the times when humans wrote something which has not been decoded till today.  It is us who carry the proof of the world's greatest Dy...

FRESCO    Each and every thought laments the conquest of bureaucracy over creativity.   Restricting the boundaries of evolution to just some gibberish evaluations.   Imprisoning the wisdom of growth behind the bars of hypocritical questions.  Art now only resides in the memory of those who tried to escape this unaltered system of qualifications,  which lay in a state of constant deterioration with the advent of contemporary guidelines on how to measure it.  Joys of dreams and the value of originality long disappeared  A life full of work that contributes to the world that kneels down to forgery is considered to be the greatest quality which differentiates between people who now look forward to the same aims, desires, and the same destination and aspiring for the same future.  Intelligence is useless as it is measured on old-school norms.  The designers of which are long gone Even the advocates have departed on their voyages But...