DISCOVERY IS IN INVENTION OF NEW EYES

Feelings are feelings, someplace inside you at first.
Words, tags and judgments get attached to them much later.

Prologue

16.

I mentalated I had fallen in love. Fallen indeed I had, but love was nowhere is sight. On being asked what l mean by love, this is the best I've managed so far. Love is an evasive delusion that on reciprocation dilutes to a shared illusion.

16.

Number of military wives as in the political satire 16 Military Wives by The Decemberists. Their songs are my go-to imaginary universe to give language to my rock-bottom emotions.

16.

Stands for wholeness and is a number of perfect measures. 4x4. 4^2. 2^4.

16.

Number of personality types.

Yin and Yang

There is a vast sea of well known literature on the psychological classification of individuals. In a layman's term, you can see folks brushing and crashing around every day as either behaving as a certain type or showing certain traits. The curious case of theories is that they are defined to explain things, things are not defined to perform as the theories describe.

As the tests for these theories interpret me, in terms of personality types, I was a ISFJ earlier, presently a INFJ and heading towards either INTJ or ISFP. In traits, I stand at an interesting spot, interesting enough for me, at the start of the bell curves for Extraversion, Neuroticism and Openness but at the end for Conscientiousness and Agreeableness.

In a nutshell, they explicate that I have opposing qualities in strong quantities. I lean to concur to these results in a different fashion. I have a balance in forces of all domains with a sense of deep-rootedness. There is driving capability to cause disruption and an equal capacity for helter-skelter; but all these potentials remain firmly established, static as if frozen by time. Imagine a world where you could visit the Louvre Museum to seek the alive circling form of the Yin and Yang; then the above representation would be a snapshot of this exhibit in your middle school history books.

la Confluence of Oceanus and Styx

Empaths

Who are they?

Creation's highly sensitive, finely tuned instruments to measure emotions in this grand experiment of life. Gifted listeners, natural givers, spiritually deep and big at heart. They are vastly focused, inter-sufficient and expect not to be micromanaged. They, inherently, are incapable of mentalating anything negative; the environment puts those unpleasant dark dents in them.

There is always room in openness

What they say?

To themselves: "I will win!"

To others: "Okay."

Actions speak louder than words

They hate themselves on having so much to say but no words to put them to. While they are muscular in feeling and channeling emotions, they are inexpressive about this commotion process within. For them, writing is a much easier mode to express themselves as it is a different medium of communication altogether. Think of it as not about avoiding face to face deliveries but rather as the use of a different pathway between your brain and sensory organs. They come out as an altogether different individual in “technological socialization”.

What do they do?

They feel everything; intuition is their sensory agency, sometimes blinded by the rational judgement. They fantasize in being the side-character in everyone's own epic tales of the journey called life. They are the wise Gandalf in Bilbo Baggin's brave fable or the caretaking Alfred to Gotham's superhero, Batman.

Sometimes the tone is stupider than words

They dear certain books, people, movies, pictures, quotes and songs with dumbfounding passion especially when they find a piece of them hidden within.

What not to say to them?

They are often misinterpreted as extroverts due to their passion for people. They can be rightly imagined as sublime emotional sponges. While they seek out for brightness, positivity and warmth in others to flourish themselves, they start to drain out of lifeform when the reciprocation cries aloud of conflict, illness and negativity. They bloat when they binge absorb depression, develop an offensive defense mechanism to protect themselves and they loose weight as they regain their serene harmless state.

Deep secrets are the real secrets

They have unexplainable mood swings that they themselves can't predict. While thoughtful, they can be dark and bitingly sarcastic if irked or sent over the edge. Their outbursts are short-lived, usually moments in length; they lock themselves away for long, not afraid of confronting others but shocked on facing themselves. To them, fear is the only emotion to be feared of.

Who do they get along with?

They live behind an eminence front; it's easy for everyone to get along with them because they come out as people pleasers but they don't prefer to get going with anyone.

Sometimes they forget they are hiding

I don’t wanna be your friend

I just wanna be your lover

No matter how it ends

No matter how it starts

They are hopeless romantics. They idealize relationships and love and hold themselves and their partner to an exceptionally high standard. They fall in love easily, grow into love slowly and take a lifetime to grow out of love. Their body makes falling in love a relatively simple prospect, but their brain strongly exerts rational and long term thinking to be able to make this love grow into something profound and more lasting. They believe in lifetime commitments and they extend it to only those who are first their best friends. They long for strong compassionate relations that are high in commitment and intimacy but are themselves weird in the display of passion because of their inability to express.

Forget about your house of card

And I'll do mine

Forget about your house of card

And I'll do mine

They are not easily moved; doubtful and guarded at first, they pick and pluck their close friends wisely. They most often allow only individuals with introverted feeling and extroverted thinking into their inner circle. But when they open up, they are difficult to contain. They are very considerate and provide an equal platform for their friends to grow. They are usually their friends' confidants and are found delicately helping out their close ones in acute emergencies or in running silly errands.

Epilogue

Life is absolute; it does not require consciousness to validate its existence. At least disconnected human conscious is not open enough to read the simplicity of the complex thing that is life; perhaps that is why humans reach out for wholeness. We are not a universal species; we simply place ourselves in the center of our own spheres. Sometimes all it takes is a new pair of eyes to alter your whole world.

Discovery is the stairway to invent life.

Author's Notes

1. Individualization is a ongoing reality. We grow into unique individuals based on conditions, experience and behavior modification.
2. Lines have been shamelessly lifted from a great listen by my all-time favorite band, House of Card by Radiohead.

Fire Coming Out of a Monkey's Head

I may be a loner but definitely not a man of introspection. Now, a disastrous mixture, of the forlorn time spent in bed rest and the fuzziness caused by medication, fueled my journey, a bumpy bad trip. In this time, when I am screwed to the bed, procrastination has itself become a high priority occupation; it is the need of the hour as my split personality puts it.

"Take a look at your life, think of all the lives you have crashed into", the strange folk says. "What a waste man; you’re a pathetic loser", he screams.

The happy folk looks in the direction of the sound, but he cannot see anything; it was the sound of silence.

"Without the brightness in your eyes, you are blind; I’m just a shadow to you." And these words echo around the now fearful happy folk, eating away the sincerity of his restless soul.

"Every day you wake up and stare in the mirror through your camouflage, with your eyes hidden behind a dark mask. What do you make out of the act you put in front of other mortals? What nirvana do you achieve by chasing after the soul that is never going to be yours?"

The happy folk looks up and shouts, "Who are you? Why are you bringing darkness into my life?"

Then came a sound, distant at first, it grew into a thunder. The strange folk was no outsider now. There were no screams, there was no time. The strange folk had shown himself. There was silence and then, nothing.

The correct treatment

Does that make me sexist? 'tis sex :)

Don't be the Forever Alone Guy!

Take pride, Forever alone guy. My ass, lolz!

Got this new craze to build up these viral rage comics. Been working on making on random cliched ideas but have discarded every one of these till now. I hope this works out. Lets see how regularly I post. :)

A.E.D.S.

As far as my conscious can feel and my brain can appreciate, this has to be a reasonably bulk phenomenon. Of course, AEDS is my “own” condensation; well the dislodgement of ‘I’ does make it me sire to this acronym. Apparently, one doesn’t require a tank full of premium 91-octane comprehension up above to come up with one. Acquired Emotional Deficiency Syndrome, or for the so-talked-about layman, Emotional AIDS. AEDS.

Writer’s block. Life happened.

What forced my body to lie back on my bed and my conscious to stare at the ceiling for what felt like eternity was a visit to a twin of my childhood house. At the time of the destined visit, a very good friend of mine was residing there. It was all “normal” until we paid a faithful visit to the roof of the dwelling. I know that the upcoming description acquires  its origins from too-cool-to-be-true movies, but it is accurate as far as I can recall.

The view instantly filled my upper hard drive with unconsciously formatted, smudged out memories. It was as if there was a sudden burst of vision-impairing light and I was travelling back to the ‘good old days’ at the speed of darkness. Well, aye, the part about the flashy light is rather pretentious but the darkness thing really came alive. The destruction of a massive star, a black hole had come into being and I was hit with the full throttle power of a starship.

Wannabe writer’s block. Reality happened.

Existence seems pointless as all the dimensions of the dreams within dreams come tumbling down. I always live in denial that multiple personality disorder ain’t a real damn thing. Oh yeah, you see the goddamn irony. I denied it to myself that it does not exist!

There’s a thing in my heart,

 but it doesn’t exist.

There’s a feeling in my heart,

but it doesn’t speak.

There’s a voice in my heart,

but it doesn’t reach out.

There’s a vision in my heart,

but it doesn’t feel.

There’s a pain in my heart,

but it is not you!

How do I appreciate this inner voice when it is crawling all over me? What do I possibly do when it opens up the black hole in my heart whenever a beautiful imagery is blooming in my head? When do I listen to it; when it says “This feeling you sense is the Philosopher’s Stone; it does not exist” or when it goes “There is no moving on bitch”?


Real life. AEDS happened.

Nice Guy™ Inc.

His mother told him, "Someday you will be a man,
And you will be the leader of a big old band.
Many people coming from miles around,
To hear you play your music when the sun go down.
Maybe someday your name will be in lights,
Saying Johnny B. Goode tonight."

That wasn’t just some filler oldies song meant for a loud start (Author’s Note: Actually, it is the very famous ‘Johnny B. Goode’ from the legend Chuck Berry). My mama also told me, “Tannu be good, always.” What she didn’t tell me are the idiosyncrasies of a nice boy; one of them being: “Nice guys finish last”. True. Period

All around me are familiar faces
worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere

Nothing much here. Kind of describes my current days precisely to the fact whether you are dead or alive.

Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

Oh my, this is kind of funny. This song is wholly dictating my life these days it seems. It is like the words are literally being transcribed onto my life’s motion picture. The first two lines give away shit loads of information, about series of events currently happening around me, in the most compact manner possible. I’m not onto it a single word; that is not why I wrote this piece of crap. The story makes sense to me from the penultimate line where I perfectly do justice to my role of being a … well, a nice boy. I know proclaiming to be a ‘nice guy’ will require you to render your justification to be one. Well, that is just the paradox we got to live with. Welcome to the cruel world. Ah just noticed, the beginning of my paragraph is exactly same as the commencing line of the next one. Did I mention something about the flow of my life!

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying 
Are the best I've ever had

Women are only attracted to men who behave like men; you know like rough and tough, survival-of-the-fittest men. She doesn’t care for the guys who won’t ever dare to break her heart or will never ever think of taking advantage of her. For her, you become one-of-us, her souvenir from the opposite sex. She won’t go for the quiet you, oh no, my friend, she wants the loud rash jerks who won’t give her the respect she deserves and will treat her like a, well, bitch. You, being the ‘nice guy’ will never get the boyfriend postage because she only thinks of you as a ‘nice guy’ which you are. You’ll always be her friend, ever climbing on her ladder of friendship for eternity. The lucky ones to survive this limbo will acquire the title of being the ‘backup plan’. The unlucky ones to have survived hardships of this waitlist only see the light of the day to be heartbroken.

I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very very, mad world, mad world

It’s pretty hard to play the role of a ‘nice guy’ responsibly after the realization that you are one and that you aren’t going sailing any up in life. The satisfaction you derived earlier from carrying those polite DNA is lost in the egocentric assessment of input and output when you grasp what being a badass gets you. The water crosses the tolerance line of a nice guy when all he gets is “there is a lucky gal waiting just for you somewhere out there” or “you’re like a lovely brother to me” or worse “you’ll be such a great boyfriend for someone else”. As if their “live and let live” rule was not considerate enough, the ‘bad guy’ has to exploit the “nice guys finish last” aphorism for pity benefits which she obliges thinking of herself as the ‘nice girl’.

The whole point of evolution is inequality. Life isn’t fair. The shadow of death, Black Mamba may be the most fatal creature on earth. While it can prey on anything that lies in front of it, its own death, the hawk, lurks over in the skies far beyond its reach. When it comes to keeping casual acquaintances, the ‘nice guy’ will finish first, but when it comes to confidant friends, he will finish last in your list. When it comes to confrontations, the ‘nice guy’ will probably disarm his counterpart by his composure to finish first, but when it will come down to surviving the fight, our chap would be too morally sugarcoated to get physical and may never finish. When it will come to finding love, ‘the nice guy’ will finish last without any questions asked, but when it is time to keep love, you bet he will finish first. Irony? Life isn’t fair.

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen

A nice guy is a ‘nice guy’ only because he is shy enough not to ask you out. He is the child who wants to always feel safe, who is intimidated even to approach a beautiful woman. He needs to learn not to be insecure in handling criticism. He needs it to be sung to him that life is not to be taken too seriously and that there is nothing dreadful in putting your own wishes ahead of others. He just needs to be loved.

Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

The ‘nice guy’ was always the nice guy. He never had the option to turn into a badass nor could he ever. He was always present there. He always wanted things to be done perfectly without anyone else feeling any burden. Once out in this mad kingdom where one only worships the fake, he greeted everyone with his weak-smile ugly mask. He quietly hummed and went along with you because he thought it was impolite to stop others from taking advantage. He was the only one left wondering at times to how a woman could be turned on by such negative remarks. He had always been the one who spent one full hour begging his wish was also fulfilled after he had spent the previous twenty three being trotted upon. And at the end of the day, he will still be the ‘nice guy’ and continue searching for someone who will understand him. Till then ...

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very very, mad world, mad world
Enlarge your world, mad world

(Author’s Note: Spread all over this entry, you went through the lyrics of this song ‘Mad World’ by Tears for Fears and illustriously cover by Gary Jules. This is a no-profit personal blog of a ‘nice guy’. No accusations of plagiarism please! Ya, so back to the point, the original version is your party CD mix song when driving on a fast highway in the afternoon because they say not to mix drinking with driving. It has got these moving beats and funky background sounds. But, the real prize is the cover by a no-star-before-its-release, Gary Jules. You ought to get high up in the sky and deep down in guilt in the same line. A lone boozer’s best man. Nothing can subliminally fuck your mind more than this adaptation.)

PS: Remaining the ‘nice guy’ is not always a nicer thing to do. Turning into an ego-inflated badass can never work for such a guy for it will just make him an insecure jerk. This site can enlighten you more: http://www.heartless-bitches.com/rants/niceguys/niceguys.shtml

Tanay Upadhyaya's photostream

Tanay Upadhyaya's photostream on Flickr.

Clicking and uploading pics are source of immense satisfaction for me. :D

I Ms. Miss Destiny

And I also happen to miss-place words easily. Ha ha, just wanted to kick-off with something lame so that the crap to follow may appear less of a fart. See, the flabby start continues.

This idea was loitering in my mind since the very first day I booked the URL for my blog; an unsophisticated way of saying since I started this random blog of mine. Not the idea of having a goofy beginning silly, but that of ‘destiny’. The ‘density’ of the weight, I was under all this time and the wait, thinking how to write my own ‘destiny’, was massive. I know, I know. It is still as smelly as it was in the opening. I warned you it would be all crap. It’s like the crap that crap eats and craps out again. Wait for it; you might end up developing a taste for the flavor of shit I have to offer.

Okay, the truth … my processing unit is devoid of any input to craft an upright structural output on this so-called thingy “destiny”. The more I try to picture, further blurrier my vision becomes. Sad. Poof. Entry.

An angel descends to the earth for the enlightenment of this diminutive human soul. She lowers her staff upon my fuzzy curls and at the stroke, as it touches my scalp, burning words flow across my nervous system. “There lies a sheer beauty in creation; in the art of the creator. Destiny is destined. Whatever attempts you may make to alter it, the whole universe will conspire to refurbish and restore to the last best known configuration. The source and sink of life are in destiny. It is recurrence of existence.”

What was that … do we finally know the truth? Do we finally know all the answers? So, the whole model has been designed in advance only. What then … every action, every event, every damn thing is meant to happen? Does it mean that even what I write next is decided?

Fuck.

Oops, that was never supposed to be written there. Miracle.

What did you say … everything is supposed to be what it has already been designated. What if this blog entry was destined to be the grandest piece ever produced in the English literature? But what did I just achieve here? I probably cooked the finest shit you ever read.

How on earth did I change this post’s destiny? Who am ‘I’ to this little piece of permutation and combination of words? So, am I the master here? This is my blog and I am its creator. This is my life and I am its master. I am the architect of my own destiny. What about you?

Some answers I still don't have:-

• What about all the girls I am not able to stalk on facebook? Is it also destined that I, as a fish, get caught in their net of privacy?
• Is it okay to approach a girl by using the Destiny Theory? What would happen if I go to her and claim that it is our destiny to meet?
• Would this post suffer the fate of comment drought?

Get over with 1411 ...

This is serious. This is not a time-pass post for me. First and foremost, please update the R.O.T. (Remember Only Temporarily) registries in your hippocampus. Now, for those, who do not feel like doing a Google search at this moment and above all, are thinking what-the-hell hippocampus is; well, it is the part of brain which stockpiles the short-term memory, in layman’s lingo. I do hope you are adequately gifted to figure out that this post is about the ‘Save Tiger Campaign’ and the numeral, burning in the air akin the devil’s number, 1411. I refer to your short-term memory here because none of us gives a shit about conservation stuff seconds after the ‘advertisement’ video by Aircel, of a cute and helpless cub, who is shown wailing for her mother to come back, is over because you just want to know which movie is going to be aired next. Maybe, she isn’t.

The famed count of 1411 tigers, strictly speaking Royal Bengal Tigers, isn’t so anymore. Yeah, true, it was anyway a loose estimate put up after the monitoring surveys by the Wildlife Institute of India in association with NTCA, Govt. of India. But, my dear it was back in the murky 2008, the year of ominous Mumbai attack. Of course you remember that, don’t you? The ad is powerful; it catches the nerve of our emotions. But, isn’t everything temporary.

At least 127 tigers died in 2008 and 2009. In addition, 11 have been reported dead after the start of 2010. Some taken away by mother nature, some lost their battle with poachers and some thanks to the entity which constitutes ‘us’ and ‘the government’. I’ll come to the role of last group later. The believers in statistics can help me with the result here.

1273.

Still, it is an unauthenticated figure. I cannot tell, maybe no one can. ‘They’ printed 3642 in 2003. ‘They’ advertised it to be 1411 in 2010. At this rate, my kid wouldn’t be able to tell what a tiger was. Whom am I blaming it on, who are ‘they’? This is the time to reverse back a few lines.

The ad. The intention was good. The idea was great. But. It was incomplete. The real deal was never shot. The solution was never aired. Everybody knows and blah-blahs about the government’s fault. Take a note of ours. We, the most intelligent species ever identified to exist in the whole of universe till now, are clueless about what to do.

Seriously, as an adolescent, what can I do? I have no guns to fight the hunters; no authority to make death-laws against the poachers. Even not enough influence and skill to start another campaign. Some ask me to speak up, support them on facebook and twitter; some ask for money. I blog about it; this person questions me how by becoming fan of ‘Save Tiger’ pages and writing blog would tigers in India be saved. I have no answer. At least you won’t be saving a life by questioning others, you asshole.

I don’t have the answers. I am writing this to find the solution myself. I can only know that the government plans to spend $153 million to create new tiger reserves to give the poor endangered species some territory to roam about, another $13 million to give birth to a new ranger force to protect the big cats and what not. Where do I come in the picture? I still don’t have the answer. I concur that I also can give any solution.

On a lighter note, I can surely jot down things that I shouldn’t do:-

• Take it as a joke and make fun pages like ‘Eat Parle-G … don’t eat Tiger … only 1411 left!’ Please, humble request, don’t make a gag out of it.

• I am also not an ‘asshole’ who would resent the idea of joining pages etc. but please don’t just click on the Like button and then head back to your home page in a snap. Try to gather some knowledge which might actually help in the future.

• Blame it all on the government, while stuffing your mouth with a burger, just to carry out a conversation and look informed. Be informed instead; get to know some facts. On a still lighter note, I would like to share this comment I came across online:-

"Send all politicians to the jungle for poachers to finish them off and bring all tigers to the parliament to make some brave decisions!"

• To proclaim that this was the fault of the existing generation that they didn’t do a thing about it. I seriously hope you would be able to deliver something in your time, so that the next generation wouldn’t put the guilt on you!

1273.

I just pray here that by the time you see the period at the end of this sentence, the holy count has not clicked 1272

P.S.:

Please go through the following links to get a feel:-

http://www.saveourtigers.com/JoinTheRoar.php

http://saveourtigers.com/blog/

http://www.wildlifeextra.com/do/ecco.py/view_item?listid=1&listcatid=883&listitemid=6888&live=0#cr

Are you 'hi' ...?

No, I didn’t make a mistake with my title. I am sure I did not mean ‘How are you’ and neither do I want to make it catchy by having a resemblance with ‘Are you high’. Anyway, it does have one. I suppose I can’t help the facts. Move on, man. So okie dokie, this post is on my common observation about the usage of basically the two words ‘hi’ and ‘hello’.

Oh, I forgot to greet you myself. Hi. Or should it be Hello? Which is more appropriate? Well, we all, most of the time, ignore the formal salutations and just go with ‘Wassup’ and ‘Howdy’ etc. To give the impression of being cool, perhaps (And if we are too good friends, we always commence with beautiful cuss words; portrays our love you see :P). This is mostly the case of the “online chats”. We live in the believe that we are keeping in touch with these simulated conversations. Anyways, I am distracting from the topic in hand; more on the online life-system in some parallel universe. Do I believe in parallel universes? That also in some other post. :D

An uninteresting post would be like this: ‘Hello’ is a more formal way of greeting than ‘Hi’. Or a more boring English grammar class version: ‘Hi’ is more American than British. Sorry to say, but the rest of the post wouldn’t be any remarkable in any way. It’s a simple journey where we start with a ‘hello’ and try to progress  towards the genuine ‘hi’ and, if the person is of opposite sex, preferably settle there only. I have already mentioned the case of being very friendly.

So, for the fact, Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the most useless thing for me, decreed that the correct way to greet someone over  the phone should be ‘Ahoy hoy’. A matter-of-fact in favor of my repulsion towards phone: Bell considered his most famous invention an intrusion on his real work as a scientist and refused to have a telephone in his study. Anyway, in came Thomas Edison, who is credited with the use of ‘Hello’ as a telephone greeting. I don’t know what would be the appropriate tone to say ‘Hi’ while receiving an unidentified phone call.

Anyhow, I have always been a ‘Hello’ person and always regret for not being ‘high’, especially the time when a cute girl says sweetly to me, “Hiiiiii” and the only word that comes out of my fucking mouth is "Hello"; blast me. So, am I shy of the opposite sex? Catch "Are you shy or high" in some other post.

So, are you ‘Hi’? Now it’s sounding to me like, are you game or are you gay? More on it, you know where!

When you are waiting ...

So buddies, it’s time to take a flush, down the unconscious memory lanes and summon up some moments. When was the last moment in time, when you stood in some place, for some purpose, alone; and I’m talking of such a length of time which made you realize that you ‘are’ alone?

Maybe for movies, maybe at a marriage, maybe in a party or even while waiting for your date! I am talking about a situation where you just stood and stood, with no one by your side, and you just stood and time walked past.

A very boring freeze-time it may be while waiting; but as time eats you from inside, it triggers some make-believe organ system deep inside you. Or, as I believe, it does. The secretion is mysterious in nature, one of its kinds, unknown to many. See, this is the time which can help you decide the person you want to be with.

The first person you urge to call at this moment is ‘the’ person you really want to be with and not, by any chance, the date you are standing and passing time for. After standing for a period of time, when your knees have started hurting and you have used every permutation and combination of cuss words; the name which bolts to your mind as a ‘Yahoo! moment’, as in a Eureka moment, is the name you have been searching for.

I am, at no point, claiming your Yahoo! person to be a lover only. It might your long lost friend you haven’t had a word with since ages. If you recognize a sign like this somewhere, that is the time to reflect on your option to connect with ‘the’ person again.

P.S.: During an utter useless time like this, you can just concentrate, sit down instead of ‘just stood and stood’ and utilize the time to write a new blog entry like this one. :D

How I Met You Robin ...

Greetings to you, random blog readers! Others, who already had a sneak-peak at my previous blog entries, might know that I am into web comics and also have a tiny little knowledge of Adobe Photoshop. So, I had this crazy idea to merge these two interests and create a masterpiece. He he, flattering myself I am. :D

What I could manage is nowhere near a single comic strip, but I sure had a fun time making it. I hope you'll like it.

So, basically it's like a story; it should be like that only, I suppose. So, here I have combined my two loves: Counter strike (he he) and ... and ... Cobie Smulders (I assume you would have guessed this by now because of the title; it was a give-away :P).


So, here it goes :-


                            Chapter I : Pilot

Nothing much to explain about this one. Just a quick mention; please find the subtle reference to computer programming in it. That thing basically carries the pun here. So straight-forward I am na! :D






                     
                                                                                                                                          Chapter II : The Beginning of the End
                                          

Just then, came this noob sweet_teddy_bear to divert me from my perseverance. Yeah, you must have noticed, I am the legend gHOST`rIDER! Mind the case please! :D

                     Chapter III : The Angel Ascends

The story takes a deadly turn. Suddenly, the map becomes hot. The monotonous sound of the beer bottles, being banged on the table, is replaced by the awe chattering of the men. The awesome angel has arrived amongst us!








                                                                                                                                                                             Chapter IV : The Fellowship of Hotness

The battle for the One begins. The forces are summoned; loyalties are put on test; the secrets are exposed in the wild! Okay, this one was too dramatized. :)








                                                       Chapter V : Destiny Awaits

Ouch, that was a little 'heart-breaking'. Ha ha ha ha! :D The skilled gHOST`rIDER scores over the dark sweet_teddy_bear and now his prize, his destiny, awaits him.








                                                                                                        Chapter VI : The Realization

P.S. :-

1. Obviously, all the background images have been taken over from the internet. I thank you all the creators of the basic images and I hope you will not sue me over the copyright issues. This post is just intended to attain pure joy and I am not even making any money out of this poorly running blog. Blah, blah!
2. Cobie Smulders is just meant to symbolize other beautiful things in my life. Anyway, Cobie, you are so hot! I was so sad when I read that you're getting married. :(
3. If any picture is not readable, you can always click on it to get the full resolution picture. :)
4. And last, please tell me how stupid this try was!