Game of Thrones: Season 8 Finale


The awaited finale of the TV show, Game of Thrones premiered today and revealed who finally takes the Iron Throne. Bran Stark emerged as the candidate we didn’t foresee but actually is the one that truly does make sense. The question is, did Bran really inherit the throne to the six kingdoms? Given there is no longer an Iron throne (literally since Drogon burnt it) Westeros kind of moved into a more democratic rule, which is meant to be free of nepotism and tyrants.

Was this a good way to end the show? I would say it was. Was it executed well? Eh, I don’t think so. The problem that began in Episode 5 of the season carried its issues to the present one, since Daenerys Targaryen’s character continued to not make any sense. And her death was very non-dramatic. Like a knife went into her heart and she was on the floor, with blood drooling on her face. Hmm… There could have been so much to her character. Her loss and her pain, nothing came through. And that sort of took away the charm from the first half of the episode. The characters just seemed to be serving the plot, which was a major flaw I believe.

But it was after her death that the episode caught up pace. The group of Lords sitting together, deciding the fate of Westeros was like a breath of peace that hasn’t been visible in the show since, I can’t remember. Bran along with Tyrion became the combination that can lead the kingdoms with knowledge and wisdom, instead of power and blood.

Sansa became the well deserved Queen in the North (the one who actually cared about Winterfell). Jon, the new Queen-slayer, got banished to the Wall only to find himself back amid the Free Folk and with Ghost (thank god, he pet him this time). I have to say Jon Snow never really deserved the throne. And just being a Targaryen didn’t qualify him for the job (which was pretty much the same case with Daenerys). Leading the Free Folk beyond the wall suits him well, since he really struggles with making knowledgeable decisions when it comes to wars and kingdoms. He is too nice and naive to rule.

Arya went on her adventures to discover the unknown lands while Tyrion along with the newly appointed masters sets on to figure the new and righteous ways to rule. In terms of story, it was a very satisfying end. Dany going mad, Jon killing her, Bran taking things over- great idea. But I wish its screenplay had been written better. The show runners could have had 10 episodes, explored the emotions of the characters more, and let all events look more natural. The show has achieved such excellence with its previous episodes that they have set high standards for themselves (I mean, they made ‘Winds of Winter’, they ought to do better).

But, the silver lining for the finale was that they gave the show a satisfying end. But I’m still wondering, why didn’t Drogon kill Jon? It was very interesting to see him burn the Iron Throne. I hope to get more insight into the equation between him and Jon in the books. And definitely, a better character arc for Daenerys.

So, all we can do now is wait for the books. Till then, I have to find a good new TV show.




He noticed his uncut, uneven nails dark on the ends with dirt. He observed how ugly the nail of his little toe was, minuscule and just unattractive. His faded blue paragon chappals reminded him about how long it had been since he went to the market to purchase any footwear, which was astonishing for him given the exertion he subjected them to everyday. He liked those faded blue chappals, though he had a pair of black ones at home too. But they weren’t just the same as them. In his lost thoughts, he was interrupted by a sweaty man standing behind him,

‘Will you move ahead? Where are you lost man?’

‘Yeah. Sorry.’

Clutching his old brown bag to his chest he took two steps ahead in the line. He pulled an ironed white handkerchief out of his left pocket and wiped his forehead with it. He felt kind of breathless standing there, surrounded by impatient office people, who after their tiring shift in the day were desperate to withdraw money from the ATM and leave for home. He looked at all their feet. Brown dusky leather shoes, mustard wedge sandals with orange ends, dark red cotton slippers with black stripes, black shining belles with powdered dirt over it. They all spoke of the distance their owners covered each day.

Two men similar to his age, standing in his front began ranting,

‘What did we just end up doing? Sir, you bet that this man would change India. All he’s done with this move is that he’s created more lines for us to stand in. As if there were any lesser before’.

He couldn’t understand where to look anymore. The constant rattling wasn’t appealing to him. He took out his cellphone for a few minutes and texted a few replies to unread messages that came in the day. He wanted to leave the line and just be somewhere else, anywhere else but there.

But he stayed there. For he had to buy white sneakers for his son’s sports day. The promise kept him bonded to the line.

Suddenly his neck began aching, and the weight of his body felt too heavy for him to stand anymore. The sight of dirty feet, the footwear they were in and the ground they were upon. wasn’t as entertaining to him anymore. He looked at people around, all walking or standing, looking at one another, or below, or at the ATM or their phones, some in their wallets, some at other women as they walked by and some with their eyes on the verge of shutting. And. he looked above.

There they were, within the peaceful blue shade of the sky like speckles of cotton attached in a painting. Soft, subtle, calm as a river, serene as silence. Just there, unaffected by the dilemmas that were occurring down here. They didn’t care, they didn’t bother. They were just being. And more time he spent looking at them, he realized they weren’t still, they were moving too. And the thoughts in his mind suddenly became slow and his breath came in sync themselves with clouds.

The man behind shouted again, ‘Dude, are you high? Move dammit.’

He took two steps forward.

The Forgotten Fable.


Ever been in love,
That felt more than right
Gave you an ache in heart
Each time, it looked far in sight?

Such love, whose eyes
Glittered brighter than sunlight
Whose idiocy never seemed to you
Ever child-like?

A love that’s gone so far
That you have forgotten that time
Of an indelible walk, you took
Alone on that Sunday night?

A time when you just lived each day
To see her merry and thrived
Remember the time, it took you to get over
The feeling that kept you in tears, being deprived?

The ridiculous reasons you came up with
To witness that melting smile
Never thought you’ll move ahead,
But you did, didn’ t you, and kept going just fine?

Was it the lack of touch, or the time
That never bothered about, what was left behind
You lost all contact and began striding
A new life that came to your way, you started to abide

Now it’s been so long,
Since you saw her deep black eyes,
You can’t remember a thing,
The time took care, of the ache inside.

But you wonder, why still she
Sometimes shows up, in your late night dreams
She’s been gone so long, so far away
But she’s somehow still there, like a hazy souvenir

And you still wonder, what would you do
If came across her someday, on an afternoon
On the opposite platform, waiting for the train,
While you are as usual, running late?

Would you make the effort,
And shout out loud
Make for the time you two lost,
A conversation you dreamt of so long?

Or would you just see her
And just see her some more
Honor the distance between
Like an ocean, you can’t cross?

Maybe you’ll catch that train,
And leave her on that shore,
Of a story that never happened
Figment of your imagination, it was of course.

You thought she left,
But now you know she never will,
Unlike the memories, it’s the warmth of the first love
That stays, for you to timelessly adore and cherish.

For the first love, that makes you smile. Once in a while.

For him.



The words rising within
Losing their fortitude
The growing anger relishing the pain
I see your eyes shouting out loud

Afraid for doom to bide
And bring the worlds to collide
The silence maintaining a balance
Requisite for peace to thrive

But is the peace being threatened
By neglecting the ringing chide
Your silence, and avoidance
Silently burying freedom in denial

The ring will stop,
Once the other side loses its time
For your reluctance
Will cost you a repent of a lifetime

And in the end,
Winning against all odds,
Beating every dubious assumption,
He picked the call.

Against the Odds