Assorted - II

Day dreaming has been past time pastime of mine. It seems a long time back that I used to day dream. Casa mentioned on pointy’s blog about day dreaming. I said something along the general lines mentioned above. Suddenly, a stern voice started speaking, “A fire has broke out in the building. Please find the nearby exit. Do not use the Elevator”. I have never been in a building on fire. Not even seen a building on fire. Rubbing my hands in glee, I picked up my laptop and ran downstairs. I don’t have pyromaniac tendencies just a lil crazy about things I wish to witness, now and then. Once when I was at iitm, I witnessed earthquake in the hostel. It was eerie feeling.

If I could, I would get rid of the word hypocrisy. What the hell does it even mean? It is too severe a word to brand people with. “Oh, he is such a hypocrite”. He says one thing and does something else. It happens all the time. Did it ever happen to you, that you brand some hypocrite and the next day evening you find yourself running for the president?

Some people are of the opinion that the word eve-teasing is too romantic a word. It doesn’t signify the nature of the crime. I agree. One way to get back at the eve-teasers is to pain them by calling them gay. Eve-teasing is gay. I am not trying to make light of this serious issue. Please bear that in mind. Not after what happened in Lucknow. I think if we see a bunch of guys paining females, get back at them.

A pretty woman in her late twenties walks to the neighboring grocery store. Her four year old tags along. On the corner is a homeless guy, peering through the dusty glass windows. A sneer ripples within her and she passes him quickly. She just needs to pick up a few things for dinner tonight. As she walks out laden with bags on one hand, and her son on the other, she sees a young guy with soft brooding eyes leaning on the pole. She looks up and smiles pleasantly.
“You like kids?”, he says nodding towards the young one.
“Oh..you know, he is a little monster”, she says drifting along.
“I could help you make some of those”, spat a contortion on his face.
“Is that how you got your brother?” said the homeless guy, appearing suddenly from nowhere.

Hee Hee Hee

It was around at 1:00 A.M on a moonless night.Not that it matters if the bloody moon was up there or gone partying somewhere. Out in the deepest of my dreams, it came to me why some people can't sleep at night. It is because that even your dreams are boring.Yep. You are so bored with your dreams, that sleep evades you. These things do have tendency of laughing back in your face.So, not just your dreams are boring, my dreams are boring too.

All idiots make sweeping generalizations

Hee Hee Hee, i woke up at this point, mused for a while and went back to sleep smiling.Morning brought new news.Sus was checking the mail and found an arrest issued on the name of dark lord.I am proud of him.I always wanted a criminal roommate.My wish has partly come true.I would have been happier if... :).Touchwood.

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Dark side of the Story : Love thy neighbor

"So.Did you ..err like Kingkong?", i asked, innocently, i hope.
"Aaa..you are trying to be funny..aa? Uncle is being funny", sneered the king.
On the rearview mirror of my horse, i see the confused look on the child's face. And, on yours too? Allright.

Well, after a long hard night's work at the tower, i headed down for a relaxing day. The nazguls had gone partying somewhere except, ofcourse, the king. So, we were talking about this and that, when there was a gentle knock on the black back door. A little messenger from the neighboring tower had come visit us. She looked tense and held out a parchment.

If you ever cared to look up the history of dark lords, rarely would you find the words generous, carefree, helpful, kind to describe our kind. We even dress in black and red. And, here was a farishtey.An angel sent to set the record straight.

King and I started off immediately on our horses. With the little angel trailing us (rearview mirror funda). I felt expansive. A great deal of thoughts were buzzing through my head. Should i make speech at the task completion? One of the hazards, of the expansive moods is uncalled-for comments and retorts (Line 1).

When we reached our destination, the place left my heart cold. The neighbor had asked me to get a bail of cold beer. No wonder the ex-dark lords turned cruel. "Love thy neighbor as thy". I couldn't feel much love for my stupid neighbor.Neither did the King.

"Can i see your id please?"
"Dark lords don't carry ids". I don't photograph well.
"..."
"Here, take mine", said the king
"..."

I handed the money. He took it silently and then said,
"He showed me the id..and you gave me the money"

They should really add patience to the list of our features. Sigh.

Interlaced

I am obsessed with visualization. Pictures pounding on each other. Sidling against each other, some move rapidly and some slithering gently. Each picture assosciated with many thoughts.

* I wonder.I really, really wonder

These days, i am stuck in a big song loop. Usually, at our house, charan is the one who is stuck on songs like that. And we , charan and i, are diametrically opposite ends, i never thought i would get stuck on a song. This song is sung by dolly parton. Oscar nominee.

Freedom

Yesterday was a night for revelation. It would be far from truth if i would say that i wasn't aware of the filth i jot down("Trees of thoughts"). My earlier writings used to be things about different things in my life.Like when i got a D in a course.Or a particularly devastating field day in cricket. Or when someone complimented me on something. Off late (like for the last six months), i have been drifting more towards story. Fiction diluted with wee bit of facts. No, it is not just you. Even i am repulsed, by the stupid, psychotic imagery i try to project. A good indication would be link on Mudit's blog. It used to be totti's BS.Now, it says Totti's Psycho BS. And, like gandhi, mudit is rarely far from truth.I just have to stay away from "short stories".

Freedom

It is a strange feeling when a stranger sacrifices his life for you. You are not you anymore. A certain expectation surrounds you.Parting words haunt. In this case, there were no jitters, which accompany when i first meet a stranger. Yeah, sure they were stammers.But, that is not the point.

"Hey..Don't feel bad...this was meant to be...please..tell them..". And, he handed me his wallet and a ring.

Also, as you have probably seen in countless movies, it is difficult to convey such strong news to anyone.Even to your enemies. And, i am not specatcular at conveying tragic news. I stand at the wooden entrance, for what seems like an eternity. I would never be able to muster enough courage, even if i just stood there for months.I knock the door and enter. What i see melts my heart. An old lady on a cot. A young woman in her twenties, washing a set of clothes.Both draped in white saris.A morose looking chap sat in the corner, playing violin. I deliver the parting words and give them his wallet and the ring. They point me to his table. I slowly lumber towards his room, walk up to the table.I don't usually go around snooping people's tables.And, especially, dead ones. However, this particularly note looked intriguing.