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Return of the Flying Panda
“What now?”
“Indeed. What now?”
* * *
The younger one shook his head in a mixture of wonder and wistfulness. “I assumed that once it was over, once I had my revenge, I would get back to my ‘normal life’.” He looked up at the older one and smiled ruefully, amused by his own naiveté.
The older one waited, wanting the younger one to put it into words.
“I didn’t realize that vengeance had become my life. I don’t know what to do with myself now.”
The older one said nothing.
There was a slightly accusatory note in the younger one’s voice. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you? Why didn’t you warn me?”
He waited for a response; none was forthcoming.
“Oh. I see. Of course.” He inclined his head in acknowledgement of the older one’s foresight. “It had to become my life. I had no option but to make it so, were I to be successful.”
The older one smiled. “Yes, but what now?”
* * *
As is the annoying (and to me, inexplicable) habit of all these martial art exponent dudes, our panda awakened as the first rays of the new day made their way into the glade. He walked into the center of the glade, and let himself soak in the gentle warmth of the afore-mentioned rays. He took deep breaths all around and let the freshness that was the new day permeate his consciousness. He was now fully awake, though how that is possible without the benefit of filter coffee I shall never understand.
He let his gaze sweep across the surroundings and realized that it wouldn’t be easy to leave them. It had become too much a part of his identity, too much a part of who he had become. He sighed, and shook his head. It didn’t solve anything. He still had no idea as to what to do with himself.
* * *
“No!”
The older one looked faintly amused. “Your roots, young Pneo, your roots. Never forget where you come from. ‘Tis not common blood that your veins carry.”
Pneo looked at the older one, stricken. “But an arranged marriage? In this day and age of speed dating?”
“Why not? Old is gold.”
“Eh?”
* * *
The older one walked the worn path to his resting place. He paused for a moment and looked up at that scene of vast, magnificent splendor- the star-studded night sky. He smiled to himself. His time had come. Muscle, sinew and soul would come together for one last battle.
* * *
Pneo looked down at his master, and it broke his heart to do so. He told himself that this was the only way, that he had had no choice, but the words sounded hollow. All that remained was remorse: utter, biting remorse and the terrible loneliness of one who has dared to change the world around him. He looked away. I do believe he could’ve done with some filter coffee.
The older one waited patiently for his protégé to find the courage to look at him again. And at length, as he knew was inevitable, the younger one came out of his reverie, took a deep breath and turned to face his mentor, in readiness to have his soul torn apart.
Serenity suffused his master’s time-ravaged visage. He felt his protégé’s gaze upon him and opened his wearied eyes. He took in his surroundings, his home for the past half-century, and was filled with sadness that the dew on the grass should never moisten his feet again. Yet it was not a sadness born of fretful longing, but of quiet acceptance. His gaze now focused on Pneo.
“Look at me, young one, for in me, in my fallen figure, you shall find the key to your destiny. This was meant to be, it had to happen, it was inevitable. Understand that. Empty, you think my words are? You are wrong; I have never been surer of them. You, young Pneo, are one of those blessed ones, one of those chosen by Nature herself, by her gift of exceptional ability, to be one of her agents of change. I am but a mere catalyst; you are the instrument. Should you continue on this path, and should you choose not to run away from yourself, ‘twill be a blessed life that you shall lead. Terrible shall be your loneliness, and the ones who understand you may be the ones you shall have to destroy. Mark my words, young one, and do not think me mad, for this is indeed a blessing. For none lesser than the Gods themselves shall share your loneliness and your pain; for you shall have the satisfaction of doing what you want, of getting what you want; for, most of all, you shall be one of the fortunate few exempt from the curse of utter futility.”
"Yes, but will I be happy?"
Author’s note: ‘Tis very corny blood that my veins carry. ;)
Return of the Flying Panda
“What now?”
“Indeed. What now?”
* * *
The younger one shook his head in a mixture of wonder and wistfulness. “I assumed that once it was over, once I had my revenge, I would get back to my ‘normal life’.” He looked up at the older one and smiled ruefully, amused by his own naiveté.
The older one waited, wanting the younger one to put it into words.
“I didn’t realize that vengeance had become my life. I don’t know what to do with myself now.”
The older one said nothing.
There was a slightly accusatory note in the younger one’s voice. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you? Why didn’t you warn me?”
He waited for a response; none was forthcoming.
“Oh. I see. Of course.” He inclined his head in acknowledgement of the older one’s foresight. “It had to become my life. I had no option but to make it so, were I to be successful.”
The older one smiled. “Yes, but what now?”
* * *
As is the annoying (and to me, inexplicable) habit of all these martial art exponent dudes, our panda awakened as the first rays of the new day made their way into the glade. He walked into the center of the glade, and let himself soak in the gentle warmth of the afore-mentioned rays. He took deep breaths all around and let the freshness that was the new day permeate his consciousness. He was now fully awake, though how that is possible without the benefit of filter coffee I shall never understand.
He let his gaze sweep across the surroundings and realized that it wouldn’t be easy to leave them. It had become too much a part of his identity, too much a part of who he had become. He sighed, and shook his head. It didn’t solve anything. He still had no idea as to what to do with himself.
* * *
“No!”
The older one looked faintly amused. “Your roots, young Pneo, your roots. Never forget where you come from. ‘Tis not common blood that your veins carry.”
Pneo looked at the older one, stricken. “But an arranged marriage? In this day and age of speed dating?”
“Why not? Old is gold.”
“Eh?”
* * *
The older one walked the worn path to his resting place. He paused for a moment and looked up at that scene of vast, magnificent splendor- the star-studded night sky. He smiled to himself. His time had come. Muscle, sinew and soul would come together for one last battle.
* * *
Pneo looked down at his master, and it broke his heart to do so. He told himself that this was the only way, that he had had no choice, but the words sounded hollow. All that remained was remorse: utter, biting remorse and the terrible loneliness of one who has dared to change the world around him. He looked away. I do believe he could’ve done with some filter coffee.
The older one waited patiently for his protégé to find the courage to look at him again. And at length, as he knew was inevitable, the younger one came out of his reverie, took a deep breath and turned to face his mentor, in readiness to have his soul torn apart.
Serenity suffused his master’s time-ravaged visage. He felt his protégé’s gaze upon him and opened his wearied eyes. He took in his surroundings, his home for the past half-century, and was filled with sadness that the dew on the grass should never moisten his feet again. Yet it was not a sadness born of fretful longing, but of quiet acceptance. His gaze now focused on Pneo.
“Look at me, young one, for in me, in my fallen figure, you shall find the key to your destiny. This was meant to be, it had to happen, it was inevitable. Understand that. Empty, you think my words are? You are wrong; I have never been surer of them. You, young Pneo, are one of those blessed ones, one of those chosen by Nature herself, by her gift of exceptional ability, to be one of her agents of change. I am but a mere catalyst; you are the instrument. Should you continue on this path, and should you choose not to run away from yourself, ‘twill be a blessed life that you shall lead. Terrible shall be your loneliness, and the ones who understand you may be the ones you shall have to destroy. Mark my words, young one, and do not think me mad, for this is indeed a blessing. For none lesser than the Gods themselves shall share your loneliness and your pain; for you shall have the satisfaction of doing what you want, of getting what you want; for, most of all, you shall be one of the fortunate few exempt from the curse of utter futility.”
"Yes, but will I be happy?"
Author’s note: ‘Tis very corny blood that my veins carry. ;)
posted by the Monk @ 6:44 AM
28 comments
28 Comments:
Very good writing, esp. the last part. Ummm...at the risk of beind sued for intolerable slander...did...ummm...Elektra... serve as an inspiration for any of that??
Whew...now I need a glass of filter coffee to calm my nerves!
Is your 'Author's Note' on a diet? Looks malnourished, I must say...
I commented! I commented! ;)
Cryptic is hardly the word. You should have about 47 footnotes.
Hey, thanks for viewing my blog..
your posts are too good, hilarious (sometimes, in their own satirical way )too! Keep up the good work!
Shorter author's note, I see. (And others also see) You have my comments on this one already...
Also, I have been commenting like a crazy on a certain One's blog. And he commented on mine!! *does mini Chota Nagpur Tribal Dance* (the original is of course reserved for when i was added to your blogs of note :) )
I want coffee.
A filter coffee lover who also visits my blog? Too much! And you're making it on to my blogroll!
Bravo, Monk, bellissimo.
The panda has returned and is entertaining audiences worldwide, I see.. :)
So, Pneo returns! I knew that one day in the distant future he would!!
LOL!! Corny is as corny does! I wonder if that makes any sense?!!
I didn’t realize that vengeance had become my life -- that's what philosophical hero stories are made of! :)
Happy Diwali.. :)
Loved the last para ..
Do come back and post more ..
VERY corny! :P
But why o why does corny sound familiar...*lookin around*
And...d Psequel reloaded....finally!
Having a tough time deciding which I liked better :-(
OMG....lmao at filter coffee :)))
I want my cuppa caffeine NOW!
ages since u wrote??? where art thou??
matrix meets CTHD sooraj barjatya style??
ohmigodohmigodohmigod!
Well, now you know.
But I ain't ready, no, not yet.
I still write only for myself.
hey dude....visited ur blog like after ages....and trust me as i do enjoyed reading the story....loved the poignancy that ur writing carried.....
*gasp*
almost 3 months since u posted?
Awaiting new corny thoughts.. :)
And a happy new year.
Eh, back. Feeling cryptic today, are we?v
Eh, back. Feeling cryptic today, are we?
Eh back.
Feeling cryptic today, are we?
Eh back.
Feeling cryptic today, are we?
hello..where have you gone.. its been 4 months since you posted..but still great blog
OMG!!! 4 months!
Are you waiting for something(like a divine signal) or someone(the BlogDeity herself) or simply haven't had the time?
*sermon starved*
new post please!
Well, go on and post, will ya?
Oh, and tell me what email address you see when you hit reply to this comment in your inbox.
Thankies.
I didn't care for "Tinker..." too much. Pretentious bullshit, and nowhere near as good as "The Spy Who Came In From The Cold". I have a HUGE list of good books to read, and Le Carre isn't on it anymore. Kerouac, here I come!
d-ude!
soak in the gentle warmth of the afore-mentioned rays is a nice line.
heehee.
pneo and qracle?
i agree with the author's note.
=D
Hi dude! Unlike others, I totally agree with your note, and hope that you will continue to keep up the good work out here! Wish you the best of luck! Our essay provider is the best custom writing service ever!
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