Psychedelia – The Leaves

Every key of this keyboard feels like a petal – crisp and old. I can even feel a color, cool it is, how u can feel a color, and see it with your fingers. It’s yellow, and some of them with a hint of orange. The sun is shining bright, and closer to the horizon; it will start to go orange in sometime. It’s yellow for now, but not scorching hot. It’s slightly warm, but soothing warmth it is. Not the one which makes you acknowledge the heat that comes with it, but the one which soothes you nicely from the chill that you would have felt, were the sun absent. The leaves lie everywhere, I stand cautiously to not step on them, and I type this on the leaves. With every press on a key I make sure I retract soon enough to not break the crisp and inflexible dried leaves.

But the monitor, bright, with the letters, letters of this post, shining black; this monitor reminds me that I am still in the office with the walls of my cube that comes along with it. I can see no leaves, only buttons; the tube lights not the sun, is bright, and the air? There is no air, only a cold aura; stagnant, like the minds that surround me.

I should be somewhere better. Open airs, that sun, that leaves, and an alley on the road, bounded by a wall on one side, old wall with fungal growth, covered by creepers – many of them.  The other side of the boundary, the side opposite to the rustic wall – there are trees. Long wood, some short; the ones nearer to the alley road, are shorter than the long, stubborn trees far away. And these leaves, overlapping the street like a torn canopy; torn, for it leaves those small gaps, where if I am careful enough, can walk, without blowing off or crushing these leaves, which rest so gracefully, scantly bathing in the sun, which now is hidden by the green wall to the side. Only some light escape and fall on the leaves, as the sun still peeps from over the wall. It is getting orange now. The far areas of the forest, with those big trees, they are disappearing. Their wood growing darker, their leaves turning black, and slowly it morphs to a big subsuming darkness, now ravenously approaching the shorter trees, for there are no big trees, which stood protecting it. The sun which kept the darkness in check now leaves; it might be angry on the leaves, on the trees, for using it so much but not giving anything back and instead helping and sharing the gifts with others all the time. The sun leaves, as darkness consumes them all, all the trees, and now it is coming for the leaves.

Light! Light is what they need. I run as far as I could to find light, the only way to protect these delicate leaves. I ran, to get light, which went with the sun. I can still bring light; I said with some hope; when I saw this creature indifferent to my desperation, indifferent to the terrible fate that approaches the dear leaves. This stone is it smiling at me? Is it teasing me, standing so boastfully? Why does it stand still when the dear, sweet leaves are in danger? Get up. I should throw a stone at it, to galvanize it, I thought. So adamant, it is still silent. More stones, big strokes, all with persistence. Somehow, I want more for him to show support than attending to the leaves. Get up, I shouted, the sound paralleled with another stone I threw, and a spark I saw. A bright one, it blazed and followed some more. Light! There is light. I hit him more, I might murder it I doubted, but I did not care. I hit more, and there were more sparks. Light! I shouted jubilantly, and the light settled on some leaves. I smiled. I saved them, and I let go a sigh of relief which added up to the breeze and amplified the light. A breeze of sun! I announced, as the breeze carried with it the flame to all the leaves. And it takes me with it, to a world of light, for my efforts I took to save them from dark. I am in the sun, with my leaves. They still grow dark, but it’s not that darkness that ate the trees, I saved them from it.  The leaves dance, they must be so happy. Closed my eyes are, as I feel the sun over my body, hot it was, not soothing like that sun, but I like the heat.

Am I on the sun that was behind the wall? Am I that one that was far away? How did I arrive here? Magic Stone! I acclaimed, as the heat became a part of me. I realized I was becoming the sun. Powerful! I claimed. I was ready to see it, and I shouted before my voice dissolves with the sun and my vision becomes part of the light.

Let me see my world from here.

9 things to do when you accidentally post a Draft on your blog

Now just to be sure that I am connecting with people who have not blogged much, or whose blogging jargon are different than the one that my blog provider uses; drafts are those posts, that are not published yet as blogs. They might be unfinished posts, or things that you wrote when you were having an emotional downhill ride and would not ever actually post it, or a textual harangue against someone or something that you wrote just to let go off the steam. Hence being one of those contents that can put facets of you out to the public that you have hidden from them, a draft getting posted as a blog accidentally can sometimes easily be a permanent trauma-inducing nightmare. So here are 10 things that you can do when such a mishap occurs.

1. Suicide

Wo! Did that came too sudden and too directly in the face? Well, sometimes your drafts have more than you would ever want to reveal to the world, things that you are ashamed to even acknowledge but it is jotted down just because you thought drafts are not public and so the information stays just with you, and that you will edit it, and coat it with a pleasant veneer later, if ever it is to be posted. But you never saw the possibility of your stupidity being the very thing breaking into that secure shell and letting go all of those insecurities, infatuations, indifference and ‘in the face’ truths, out there in the open, for the people, the general common mass, to judge you, and if time permits, even grade your morality. Now, killing yourself does not sound like much of an overreaction does it?

2. Hack the platform

This is a conspicuous techie job. If you are well versed with online stalking, like the real deal online psycho-stalking, you probably are good with hacking. In which case, you have your solution right in front of you, disguised as this sinful skill of the modern world – Hacking. Hack into your blog service provider; delete all logs of anything ever happening for the last 1 day. It is like the small memory eraser stick of ‘Men in Black’ with the only difference of this one being easier, if you are a hacker, and if you are as radical as to hack your blog platform for an accidental post. Just make sure it is legal; or don’t bother; you were a dedicated psycho-stalker, legal issues won’t make much of a difference to your decision.

3. Memory Eraser Stick

Now that we have mentioned it, why not think of a less pragmatic approach. Make the memory eraser stick they showcased in ‘Men In Black’. Research it, engineer, and do it yourself. And once you are done with it, flash it on every individual in the world. Please do not think of going around on your private car, knocking at doors and flashing your stick when people open their door (okay that sentence can be totally misconstrued in a lecherously exhibitionist way). Think a bit practical. You just made a memory eraser stick, you are genius enough to make rockets and small spy rockets that will circumnavigate the globe, go to each crack and crevice and flash the many sticks, which you engineered, seamlessly.

4. Blame it on a friend

If you want an easier solution; you can always blame it on somebody else. Make a new post, laugh about the previous one, and say you will be deleting the blunder that your friend – who you had trusted you with un-password-protected laptop and blog account, and who wrote many embarrassing truths about you as a draft for some reason – committed. Culpable act, but you can live with it.

5. Blame it on a random stranger

Better than blaming it on your friend, just blame it on a random guy. Say that somebody hacked into your account “apparently” and did some weird things – the weirdest of which would be, that random stranger knowing things about you that none of your friends did. Anyway, cover up efficiently, and put it all on the anonymous third person.

6. Blame it on your other personality

This one is my favorite. “Now it even types” can be the title of the new apology post, and you can then start explaining this really cool, and really cool-y creepy fact, that you always had a split personality but it was only limited to occasional acts of small violence and murder and somehow it has crossed all its limits by creating an ethically wrong post. Gain sympathy. Though you will end up losing many friends after this explanation, but hey, nice cover up.

7. Blame it on the platform

Like every democratic citizen, when nothing works, blame the government (platform, in this case). Create a new post, do not right much in it, just write random things, things that are not relevant to you, give it a weird title, again not relevant to you, and post it. Then send an apology mail filled with diatribe towards your blog service provider. Tell how notoriously weird it is behaving, and that these random, irrelevant posts are going on as a trouble for many bloggers. Tell you have sent them a support mail and are waiting for a resolution.

8. Say sorry

Alright, be boring. Send an apology mail, with the first apology for sending an unfinished post, and followed by many apologies to any person or thing that you may have hurt with the post. Also tell, with a blatant and conspicuous dishonesty, that nothing written in the post was meant, and that it was just a post on the way of refinement.

9. Delete the draft. No one noticed.

Yeaaah probably no one noticed. I mean if u r quick enough and if your internet service provider is not highly mercurial, you can delete the post quickly and be assured that not many noticed. Of course, there might be many notifications with your title and an excerpt of your post, sent to people who follow you, and at such places; notifications which cannot be retracted. In which case, you should just kill yourself.