It's settled, then

I'm dropping the semester and going home to recover from the battering my health has taken.

Will continue to be in touch with ye all, and will continue to blog. Cheerio!

Prashanth.

The Weeping Willow and the Willing Weep-o

Today was a surprising day.

I did two things I hadn't been able to do in a long time: attend a class and meet my advisor. This, a natural result of being sick in some form or the other for nearly a month.

I expected some semi-stern orders from my advisor to catch up on the research for the project I've been funded on, but I couldn't have been farther from the truth. My advisor took one look at me and asked me how much weight I've lost over the past few months. I winced and told him the truth. I'd already emailed him about the problems I'd been having, so I poured out my grudges against the university hospital and the pennsylvanian weather. He told me that health should come first, and said he would speak to the graduate advisor about getting me permission to drop everything and go home to recover. (He'd already given me permission to take the entire summer off.)

I was shocked! When I'd been at the depth of my misery two weeks ago, I had such thoughts but dismissed them later as absurd, my advisor wouldn't allow me to do something like that unless the situation was really hopeless. I told him now that I will give that thought serious consideration, but since I am feeling stronger than I did last week, I think I ought to wait another week and see if my condition continues to improve. My advisor said it was my call, and he would relieve me of research work for the rest of the semester if I choose to stay.

What concern! What compassion! Nobody's ever been this kind to me. As I walked away from his office, I found myself choking with emotion. And then I called up my Mom to tell her what I'd just been told, and that I am seriously considering returning home. I'd been "protecting" her by not telling all my troubles, so now that I am only left with a few minor symptons, I poured out the entire truth of the past few weeks. My voice broke down by the time I reached the end of my monologue, so I hastily said goodnight and hung up.

And then I wept, there by the windowsill at the end of the corridor, as a bemused american undergrad walked past me to the stairwell. I composed myself, walked back to my lab and informed my friends that I am thinking of dropping the semester and going back to India next week. But one month of pent-up pain and frustration wasn't done with me; my voice broke again and my eyes glistened. They waited till I had a full hold on myself and dragged me to a restaurant for lunch to cheer me up.

A couple of hours later, as my advisor returned from his lunch, he brought me a parcel, courtesy his wife. It contained idlis, which any South Indian worth his salt will tell you is the best food for convalescing patients. Lovingly packed with it was some andhra-style spicy chutney.

I should have wept again. But heck, where does logic ever apply when it comes to my emotions?

I smiled.

A Short Story: Mending a Rift - Part 1

(Yet another fantasy short story with magic and wizardry! Fantasy lovers rejoice! The rest of you, have patience!)

The ancient cart rattled on along the dusty road. On seeing someone walking down the road, the man riding the cart reined in to asked for directions.

"Is this the way to the Wizard Tower?"

Sharp eyes took in a tired-looking farmer and four huddled children. "Don't need directions no more, go over that hillock and you can see 'er for yourself."

"Thank you."

"You look mighty desperate, and I don't blame you. But sometimes the price is too high."

The farmer blanched but continued on his way. He glanced back at his precious children. Could he really give one up? Was it worth it? Then he thought about his wife, held up a foot from the ground as the hellish creature crushed her neck...

Retribution was worth anything right now.

---

Wizard Harvin was tired. He was tired of listening to stupid requests from nobles with petty schemes. There was no way the Tower could involve itself with any of them. What he wouldn't give for a...

Standing in his office was a commoner with four children, every one of them shining like full moons with the Power.

Harvin rubbed his eyes and bade them sit down. The farmer wasted few words. He came from a village far west, almost at the Selyssian border. Strange creatures had emerged suddenly one day and attacked their village, killing nearly half of the villagers including his wife. Weapons were no good against their hard shells and sharp talons. His family had only managed to survive because a passing magician had fought off the creatures, and counselled the entire village to leave before they came back.

Harvin took notes and called for additional counsel. The peasant's story bore checking out. Besides, if he was willing to apprentice one of his children to the Tower....
He had drifted in his thoughts when one of the boys piped up, "Begging your pardon, sir, but the attack was far from random. Wizard Verner said they were harvesting Desune's blood for opening a dee... demon... dimensional rift."

And the three wizards who happened to walk in at that point froze in the middle of their steps.

Harvin eyed the boy warily. "Tell the story again, boy. Fully and from the beginning."

---

"Wizard Verner popped into our village one day out of nowhere. Kepp - that's our Ranger - swears he was watching the roads and ne'er saw him coming, and that's impossible 'cos Kepp's got the best eyes in all of Hesnia."

"Anyway, he told us that he had come to investigate a... wrongness... in the hills northwest of our village. At this point Kepp became excited because he'd felt it too, and there was some places where the birds and little animals refused to go anymore, only we'd told him to forget it 'cos it had nothing to do with us anyway."

"But Wizard Verner said it was important, and it might affect the earth for miles around. Now, we're farmers and herders back in Eringvale, so now we became concerned and told Wizard Verner to take Kepp and poke around to see what was wrong."

"They looked around for a couple of days and I tagged along. Wizard Verner taught me a little magic, too. See?" The lad closed his eyes and recited a phrase from memory, then clapped his hands in front of him; a dull glow of light emanated from his palms. It lasted a couple of seconds before flickering out. The farmer winced at the demonstrationg but the boy glared back at him.

The Wizards exchanged glances. "Go on with the story, lad," said Wizard Harvin.

"Anyway, Wizard Verner looked more and more unhappy everyday, the more he saw. And then suddenly he stood up erect and cried, To the village! It's under attack!"

"Naturally Kepp and I were confused but we ran as hard as we could back to the village... and sure enough, there was this bunch of creatures attacking the village. They had talons instead of hands and I saw Blacksmith Jarvis swing a sword at one of them, it just reflected off the body like it was made of armor..."

"Them creatures were behaving strangely, though. Some people they cut with their talons like they were meat. Others they crushed the necks and dragged the bodies back with them.

"Soon as we came within range, Wizard Verner spoke a harsh word and an arrow of fire shot out from his hand to the nearest creature, but it bounced off like Kepp's regular arrows, although it were made of pure elly...ellymintal energy. Wizard Verner was deathly surprised at this, and threw a lightning bolt, and when that bounced off he blasted the earth to knock the nearest ones off their feet."

"Then he leapt over to a hillock - near thirty feet in one leap, mind you, and started tossing fireballs into their midst. That didn't ruffle them either, but it got their attention."

"At this point, Wizard Verner started some really complicated spell - as though he were calling something from heaven itself - and sure enough, a bunch of fiery rocks came streaking in out of the skies and punched holes through 'em creatures."

One of the Wizards leapt off his seat and yelled, "A meteorite strike spell! Without an apprentice to support and ground him! He's barking mad!"

Harvin quietened him down, "He was desperate, Regus. I might have done the same in his position. Continue, lad. So then Verner collapsed on the hillock as the creatures ran away?"

The boy looked puzzled. "No, sir. The creatures were still moving. And Wizard Verner was still standing. He the called up some green smoky stuff that got the wounded creatures all screaming..."

"Acid fog. After calling a meteorite strike! Amazing! So then he collapsed?"

"No, sir. A couple of 'em creatures were climbing up the hillock so I yelled at him to run, and he simply jumped down the thirty feet and landed like a feather. By now the creatures had enough and they ran, but they took some of our dead with 'em."

"That's when Wizard Verner told us to leave before they came back, and told my Da to come here if he wanted Ma avenged.." and the boy started crying. Everyone watched uncomfortably as he wiped his tears away and defiantly ended his report. "Then he gave me his ring to give you.." handing the ring over, "and said you would believe me if I said to you that stuff about harvesting blood and dimensional rifts and all that. And then he walked over to our bed and he collapsed like you said."

And with that, the boy leaned back like a deflated balloon.

Harvin held out the ring and said a word to trigger the illusion that identified the owner of the ring. "Winston Verner, Class of 682" the words floated up, circling a three-dimensional miniature reproduction of the Wizard Tower itself. That was to be expected. What was not expected was a monkey striking a salute from the arch-wizard's chamber.

Harvin smiled. "Verner's personal touch. There is no doubt about the veracity of the story now."

The Wizards in the chamber looked at each other uncomfortably, and one of them spoke, "I never thought I'd see the day when I say this, but I think we need help if we are to do this."

Harvin smiled his mysterious smile, "You're quite right about that. We need to bring in some professionals." He turned to the farmer. "Regarding your payment..."

"Take him," pointing to the boy who had given the story, "I think he actually wants to study in this God-forsaken place."

"...in cases like these," Harvin continued smoothly, "when the entire realm is affected, no payment is necessary and we thank you for bringing the issue to our notice. And if payment had been required, gold would suffice, but that would be waived if you are willing to apprentice one Talented child to the Tower. As it now stands, you can leave the boy here or take him with you if you wish. But he is strong in the Power - all your children are - and I strongly advise you to leave him with us. He will do great good to the realm one day."

"I'm staying," said the boy, crossing his arms.

And that settled one issue.

Now it only remained to stop a demon army and mend a dimensional rift....


To be continued.

How deep-rooted are your prejudices?

A month ago, I was helping a friend pick some books from the library. I handed her Arrows of the Queen by Mercedes Lackey, and told her that the author's books make for fast and fun reading. And then I prattled on about Lackey being a slightly controversial author because her books are popular in the age 16-25 range, but the hero in one of her series is gay, and some parents spoke out against her "bad" influence on teenage kids.

To me, that was just a random piece of information - interesting, but irrelevant to enjoying a book. Kind of like if I was to say, Robin Hobb (or her other pen name Megan Lindholm or her real name Margaret Ogden) is slightly controversial because she has taken a stand against fan fiction. But my friend wore a look of consternation on her face and asked if there were any gay characters in this book. I assured her there weren't, and she did take the book home to read.

Last week, I was watching the Academy Award presentations, and one of the winners was a woman (I forgot her name) who, on receiving the statuette, proceeded to thank her wife and kids. My roommate sitting next to me put his hands to his temples and started shaking his head.

I never quite thought of it in this way before, but I do not consider homosexuality an unnatural thing. Does that mean there is something wrong with me, or with my friends? I guess I must be more tolerant and unprejudiced than I thought!

Thoughts, people?

Writing an epic fantasy

After nearly a week of lying sick in bed, my body seems to have rallied enough for me to have the energy to sit and type out this post.

Being sick is actually a good time to think. For while the body may be too tired to even head to the kitchen for a drink of water, the mind has enough active time to give thought to things you may otherwise sweep under the carpet of day-to-day work and worries.

And so, I thought about what I want to do with my life. I'm sure all of you have asked yourselves this question before - and so have I - but this time I gave it plenty of thought and I set some actual goals.

GOAL #1: Write an epic fantasy

Most, or all, of you reading this will be familiar with my obsession with fantasy fiction. Well, I have finally reached a stage wherein I have read so many authors and books in this genre that I could write a thesis on it. I have always wanted to write in this genre myself, as a result of which I have sometimes inflicted some of my short stories on you poor readers. Fortunately or unfortunately, the years have passed and the goal still remains. Some day, I will write and publish an epic fantasy series. The road is very long - as I learnt to my chagrin when I inflicted some of my short stories on you readers - but I still intend to make a serious attempt. Even if it takes decades.

GOAL #2: Be a champion for my country

These past four years, I have surprised myself with my hunger to learn more at the game of Bridge. Already, I can participate at the national level and not embarrass myself. In ten years, I might even be able to win something at that level. Now, India is not a country that can compete well at the international level at athletic-type events; our physiques are meant for farming, not hunting. But our brains have always been top-class. Viswanathan Anand is a world-class champion. I definitely feel we can be winners in the international arena in Bridge as well. Why wait for champions to arise? Aim to become one! (Edit: Took me a re-read to realize how arrogant that sounded. But hey, I mean every word of it!)


The rest of my goals are a bit confused. Academically, I want to be a scientist... in what field, I still don't know. I have some vague plans for my family business - we are well placed to expand our business and take a sizeable chunk of the market in South India. I have even vaguer plans to give something back to society in the form of education. Start a university? Or, more realistically, become a professor at an IIT?

Upon reading this, one might say that I must be unhappy with my work to have all my set goals only in my extracurricular activities. But that is not the case at all. I love research. Its just that some goals will become clearer with time.

Planning one's life is harder than planning than epic fantasy, after all - for you have to be realistic.

Down Sick...

Aisle bee bach shortly.