A Rant of a Forty year old Me… probably

I don’t remember how many seasons have gone by since then, but I remember it was spring. Back then I was unaware of the consequences that day would bring. It started as a day like any other, and like always, I expected what lied ahead to be a bother. That day for me was a holiday, but I was not expecting anything awesome to come my way.

I was doing my own thing, when I got a call, and what I heard left me jumping around the hall. It was from my girlfriend, and she was back, and it had been many years since we sat down with a joke to crack. I got dressed and raced liks a jet, back to the place we first met.

Later I met her and she said she had something to say. I listened quietly and did as she asked, for she always got her way. I did as she asked and followed her home, where she told her father about us, and when I saw his glare, I knew then that I was trapped in a cage, unable to roam.

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The Cherry Blossom Tree

Kenshi Tora looked at the cherry blossom tree in his garden. The pink leaves falling from the tree looked beautiful. It was a view of serenity. However, he could not feel it. He was the head of his clan, The Tora, meaning the tiger, and the pouncing tiger in the clan’s flag had seen many battles. The leaves falling in serenity reminded him of those battles, with the crimson blood and the chaos.

Kenshi was the Daimyo of his region, a feudal Baron of Japan. He was considered to be the strongest and bravest among his peers, his might overshadowed only by the Emperor himself. A thousand men with swords made by the best blacksmiths in the region followed him. They were his samurai who followed his every command. They would die and kill on his word, but alas, in this time of countless wars and battles, many would fall, and they wouldn’t stand up again, even if the Baron commanded them to. A bitter truth that Kenshi had realized after seeing countless men fall before him, their blood dropping, like the leaves of a Cherry blossom tree.

Kenshi had gained a lot over the years with his strenght and might. Wealth and power, they all grew after every fight. Although Baron Tora had gained a lot from the countless wars of feudal Japan, Kenshi Tora had lost much more. He saw his father bleed out in the field of battle. He had seperated with his friends in the battleground, like leaves seperating from a branch, never to unite again. But his greatest loss came elsewhere, far away feom the bloody massacres of battle.

It was after his dominant victory of the Northern provinces. It was his greatest achievement to date, and he could not wait to return home to share the news with his family. He returned with his men, full of joy from the win. However, that joy did not last long, for as soon as he opened the door to his room, he felt weak and fell to his knees. His men rushed to him, but they too were dumb at the sight in front of them. His wife, in a beautiful Kimono with cherry blossom leaves printed on it, was lying motionless on the bed with their infant son, blood coming out of their slashed throats.

It had been three years, but the pink leaves falling from the tree reminded Kenshi of that ill fated night, of the helplessness he felt. No matter how hard he tried to forget, he was once again grief stricken by the reminder of his greatest loss. This was too much. He did not want to be reminded again. He picked up his axe and chopped down tge Cherry Blossom tree.

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Your Mom Called

“Hey, its your mother.”, the personal assistant said, while holding on to the call that had just come through.

“Oh.”, replied Richard. “Just tell her I am busy right now. I will call her later.”, he said.

“Yes sir.”, his assistant replied.

“Don’t get me wrong,”, Richie said to himself, “its not that I hate her or anything. I absolutely adore her. Its just that I find her interest in my life, a little too suffocating.”

Richard loved his mother. He just didn’t find it necessary to answer all of her questions and calls. He was a believer of personal space and a very busy man. His mother would call every now and then to check on him, as if he was little boy who was going to school for the first time, and he found this a little annoying. He liked that she cared, but he didn’t like how much she cared. He saw it as unnecessary.

Richie used to answer his mother’s calls at the end of the day, every now and then, but it soon felt too bothersome. That plan was failing. He soon started letting his assistant answer the calls. His assistant had become his perfect backup for this job. The assistant would answer the call, and inform him, and would give a reply according to his instructions. Most of the time it would be an excuse that Richie was busy. Very soon, the assistant stopped bothering him about what to reply. He already knew the drill.

Richard would go around doing his work. His assistant would handle all of his mother’s calls, and at the end of the day, tell him about it. This system felt perfect for Richie, and he got really used to it. Soon, the calls from his mom were less frequent, and he felt the system worked pretty well.

But right now, as he stood outside of the ICU, he regretted this system. His mother was inside, fighting for her life, and as he realised the probability of losing her, he realised all the calls he had ignored and skipped. He was angry at himself for not talking to her directly when he had the chance, but instead relying on his stupid assistant. His mother had probably called recently, and he didn’t even know what she had said. He felt a deep pain in his heart.

“Please God, help me…”, Richard prayed, his thoughts scattered all over the place.

His chain of thought was interrupted by the sudden vibration of his smartphone. He answered the call. It was his assistant.

“Sir”, it was his assistant, ” Today, your mom called. She wanted to ask if you would like to have dinner with her tonight. She also asked me to tell you that She loves you.”

Richard dropped his smartphone, accompanied by tears from his eyes, the pain in his heart too strong for him to keep it inside anymore.

This is the continuation of the story that started with “No backup”. Please do read that story too.
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No Backup

“Its always good to have a backup.” Richard said, tossing a coin. “Everything has a backup. It will help you actually succeed, unlike prayers. “, he preached, as the coin landed on the table.

His friends nodded in agreement. No, they were not really his friends. Richard just viewed them as an accessory, a bunch of people he liked to hang out with. He wasn’t attached to them, nor was he addicted to them. If they left him, he had another bunch like them ready. After all, he was a man who felt the need to have backup for everything.

“Sir, here is the bill.”, the waiter put the bill on the table.

“Richie, I guess its your turn to pay.”, one of his ‘friends’ asked.

“Sure.”, Richie replied as he opened his wallet. There was not enough cash in it. It barely covered half the payment. 

Richard sighed.

Richard Symphony Palmer, better known as Richie among his peers, was a man who had a backup for everything. He was ready for any situation, and if they fell apart, he was ready for that too, as if he was expecting it. You could call him a pessimist for this, but he was simply obsessed with backup.

This obsession started back when he was in primary school, where he was a great and hardworking student, but one day had been punished severely for failing to submit an assignment because his notebook got torn. Ever since then he started having a backup. It made him feel safe. There was a running joke among his peers that even his backup had a backup. Nobody knows if this is true, but no one dared to say it to his face because Richie had always managed to overcome his obstacle and succeed due to his obsession with backup.

“Not enough cash, Richie?,” one of the ‘friends’ asked. 

“Yeah.”, Richie said in a small voice. “Good thing I always have a backup plan.” he said, as he handed the waiter his credit card.

“Its always good to have a plan B.”, he said with a grin. The whole table burst into laughter.

Their laughter was brought to an abrupt halt by the ringing of his phone. He answered the call, still smiling, tossing a coin into the air. However, before the coin could touch the ground, Richie was out of the restaurant dashing towards the nearest bus stop.

That call came an hour ago. He was standing in front of the reception in the hospital ten minutes ago. Right now, he was standing outside the ICU.

“Please God, let her live.”, he prayed for the first time in his mature life, as Richard the man who wholeheartedly believed in backups and plan Bs, realised he had no backup ready to replace his mother.

(If you like my posts, remember to like them, comment what you think, and follow my blog for more. You are also welcome to connect with me on other social sites. Stay awesome. 😊)

A Heaven for Me…

Hello there! Wait, were you expecting another story? Well, I will have to apologize, I thought I would try something different today. I guess you could call this a story, but its more of my imagination. Actually all of my fictional stories are imaginations. So you could call this a story too, I guess. I don’t know. The difference is that this is not based around an imaginary character, but rather the real me. So, sorry if I bore you, and without further delay, I would like to share with you (If you haven’t guessed it from the title by now) what my version of heaven would be like.

First of all, the heaven I am referring to is not one of those described in those religious texts or anything. Well, you could say the concept is similar, so to keep it simple, its a good place that I want to be in after I die and hell is the bad place. Good how? Well let me tell you. All the people I care about would be there and they would all get along and have a smile on their face. Friends, families, even the little Husky puppy that I never had, they would all be there. (It sounds like I am wishing for all my friends and family to die, but this is just an imagination. Besides, I am sending them all to heaven. So, its a fair deal I guess?)

When I was little, I wished to never see anyone I cared about die. That wish could never be granted, given the cycle of birth and death. As I grew older, I made a lot of friends, some closer and more precious than the others. I don’t know how much I matter to them (I don’t want to find out either.) but all of them mean alot to me. So, they would all be there in my heaven. Actually, I don’t want to see them die. So, I wish to die before them, and be there to welcome them into heaven. My family would be there too, and that’s obvious. (It is my heaven after all.)

But what if I don’t get my own heaven? What if I couldn’t be with them in heaven? What if they are all sent to hell? Then I would gladly go to hell and do my best to make them happy, as much as I could. What if only some of them were sent to hell? I would go visit them, as much as I could. And what if I alone was sent to hell? (Apparently, there’s a special seat for me booked in hell, called the throne.) Would I wish for them to be with me? Of course not. I don’t care if I have to be alone,  as long as I can see them smile. Honestly, being lonely scares me, but seeing the people I care about drowning in sadness, scares me a lot more.

So, a heaven for me, I imagine, is any place where the people I care about are happy and smiling, whether it involves me, or I am there just as a spectator. (I would prefer if it involved me, in all honesty.)

What if there is no life after death, you ask? What would happen to my heaven then? Well, if I am being completely honest with you, I have already experienced my heaven, whenever I am with the people I love, one moment at a time, and I wish to continue to do so, in whatever happens in my future.