Monday, May 9, 2011

Nina






 It’s a lot easier to be happy without the pressure. - (Nina's own caption)

Nina is another awesome person I've come to know recently, thanks to vj. Do visit her pages
 
At times it’s quite inspiring to remember that we live in a world full of such amazing people.


Wednesday, April 27, 2011

There is no spoon


After about 3 years since I have started uploading the stuff I write to fend off the evil within me into this blog, I am here to make an alteration... Nay, to completely modify the preamble to this hellhole in which I had stated long back that this would be something to check the sensibility and rightness of my perspectives.




In course of the three years that followed, this blog went all zigzag reflecting my mood swings, turmoils in my psyche and the petty triumphs and defeats at various phases of my life.


In that way, I admit that there is no point at all in correcting something which has lost all its relevance in those wild fluctuations that the entire blog underwent. Anyway, the heat and blinding light from the slanted rays of the April afternoon sun trapped by the translucent glass window of my room instilled a couple of realisations in me along with a severe headache. I’m here to share them, for I believe that gloom is something that the world deserves to have a share of.



What I realised was that there is no spoon. No right perspectives and no wrong perspectives. You can bend it according to your whims since there isn’t one. The whole realisation thing was easy because I myself had a split personality and all I had to do was throw a perspective at them and watch the creepy assholes battling fiercely trying to kill each other over it.


While the translucent window was busy, I was lying on the bed drenched in sweat listening to “The room on top of the stairs” and suddenly I realised that it was not a beautiful country song about ethereal love, but a veiled narrative of how an asshole frequently took a chick upstairs and nailed her. The splits fought about it for a while till I declared the verdict that it could be anything.


You see, that’s the whole difficulty. The fucking perspectives bend. They bend sideways, forward, behind or even go for a full circle.


So what’s the point?


What’s the point in writing about the freakin’ perspectives?


Nothing.


Therefore, no more spoon talk from now on.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Red Doom, Part-I



Only I knew it. The secret that would save the world. Beer. 



April 18th, 2011. A Monday that would not only begin the week but the destruction of the human species as well. 



No one had ever thought that the so called “advanced” human race would be annihilated from the face of the planet earth which they proudly reigned and that too by a bunch of creatures with technologies at which human beings would have, in another context laughed their asses off. 



Infra red. They used infra red beams for everything. From assessing the conditions to planning the attack. And not a “technologically advanced” human soul except me detected it. 



I spend days watching the night sky through the electronic viewfinder of my Digital Camera because I didn’t have a telescope. The 30X Digicam was my only option to watch the sky magnified. And I detected the beams. The blue streaks. Weeks and weeks, I watched the blue streaks blipping, forming chaotic patterns with undecipherable messages. Initially, I reckoned it was some kind of satellite activity. 



But one night, lying in a puddle of beer beside the splintered bottle on the terrace, I saw it. One of them. It came near me and winced at the sight of the beer. And it withdrew. Whatever it was that it feared in the stinking brewed malted barley, saved my life.  



Waking up next day in the clothes stiff with dried beer, I found my camera gone. They knew that I knew. That was why I was visited. 



Should I run through the streets warning the mortals blissfully living their lives of the impending doom? I’d rather not. Watching them being taken by surprise will be more enjoyable. 



Got a couple of cases of Heineken and few packets of Act II. Let the battle begin. 



-----

Die mortals. Die. Die like dogs.