FICTION:

Guy1: Dude the letter you asked me to give her totally bombed, she started crying, called me a pervert and said if I ever get near her she will call the cops on me. The worst part was, she said, she hates me.

Me: So, it worked.

Guy1: What?

Me: Precisely. She has to hate you passionately. Then we can convert that passion into love. Remember passion cannot be created nor destroyed but…

Guy1: So. What do I do next?

Me: Do you know who Shah Rukh Khan is?

Guy1: Yes.

Me: Crap. Do you know who Joy Mukherjee is?

Guy1: No.

Me: Excellent. He was like Shah Rukh Khan, but with less epilepsy. In an old movie he goes to this girl who hates her, whips out a knife and says, I will stab this knife into my arm if you don’t stop me and say you love me. If you don’t, I will rip out my heart and throw it at your feet.

Guy1: What happened next?

Me: What do you think? The girl stopped him. They fell in love and got married. Add in about 8 songs and that’s what happened.

Guy1: Cool man. So get a fake knife?

Me: Hell no. This is what makes you an idiot. Fake knife will never bring out the fear and passion in you. She takes one good look at that trembling hand and she is all yours.

Guy1: Thanks bro, you are a life saver.

Guy2: Dude, did you hear what happened to Guy1?

Me: He stabbed himself in the arm?

Guy2: How did you know?

Me: Have you heard of premonition?

Guy2: Is that the girl in Bio-tech first year?

At the hospital.

Me: Did you use a fake knife?

Guy1: Does this wound look fake to you?

Me: Well, Debatable. Anyways, I guess she turned out to be a psycho. How could she stand there and not do anything.

Guy1: She did, she called the cops.

Me: What does that tell you about her?

Guy1: She has the cops’ number on speed dial?

Me: No you idiot. She is not the one for you. There are plenty of fish in the sea and lots of girls on the beach.

THE WHO MAKES YOU WRITE: I have realized something about myself today. I can’t be happy with normal. I can adapt to it but won’t be happy. All these events in the past ten years have made me realize that I was not meant to conform to the lifestyle that is pushed upon us by the media. For that matter anything.

My inner self is not happy with anything around me which even slightly resembles normalcy. That doesn’t mean it’s not good for you. It only emphasizes the fact that if you like them we will never get along, for that matter you won’t even get me no matter how hard you try. Which might be a good thing for both of us. Trying to figure out who we are is a process which takes a long time. When you do you realize that, you have only dug the tip of the iceberg and now you are cold, sinking and afraid to drown in your own self.

Even success seems to be enslaving. I don’t get jealous when someone gets a dream job with a seven figure salary. It’s good for that person who has dreamt of that moment all his life.

What do I want from life? I don’t know. What will make me happy? I don’t know. So what have I learnt from all these experiences. Well, I know what I don’t want.

The mystery to me is, when people dream, why do they always get tangled up with the notion of a good job and lots of money and the urge to settle down in life? Let me try and break this down a little bit.

Firstly, when you are dreaming about the ideal life, why would you ever want to work? My ideal future would be not to work. Just do something that I like and maybe even get paid for it. We are raised to work for others. I wouldn’t call working for someone a dream but a subconscious awareness of what needs to be done to be successful according to the parameters of the society.

Secondly, lots of money. Why lots of money? If money amounts for happiness, I would have always worked towards the perfect bank heist. Money is a like a hot trophy girlfriend with lots of baggage. The sex is good but the next morning you feel like the roles have been reversed and you are stuck with an overwhelming feeling of being screwed. Money is important but it’s not everything. I wouldn’t dream of being the richest man alive. I would hope that I make enough to survive and make enough to keep my passions alive.

Thirdly, settling down in life. I never understood this. The world is a big place even though people claim that it has become smaller. I believe the contrary. People make the world what it is and as the number of people grows so does the world. Every person you meet accounts to a new experience, only if you are open to such poetic notions. Why would you want to settle down and read about events in the newspaper while you can go out there and be a part of it. I want to be a nomad and experience things, than be some guy whishing to grow the balls to get out there and live free.

Breakdown everything and analyze it, then you will realize we are being hollowed out. They just want us to be remnants of absolute freedom that once roamed this earth with its head held high. Nowadays they are going a step further by shoveling in as much as self pity, depression, greed, consumerism and sloth as they possibly can. By the time you cleanse yourself of all these you are fighting to get out of a coffin banging on the door. Trying to tear way the latch with your bear fingers while they ground down to your bones. Wake up from your lousy dream and dream beyond even the possibility of what life has to offer and what death can take away. Dream with your eyes open.

THE VIEW: You can see the water. Your eyes tell you there is water in front of you. Only one of your senses is satisfied. Next step is to feel it. Don’t you want to touch it? Or do you want the water to touch you?
The banks look beautiful. You might think you are in heaven. Everything around you is beautiful. Go. This is it, you think. This is the heaven you had in mind when grandma first told you about heaven. This was her vision, this is what she wanted you to see and finally you have arrived. This should satisfy you. Clear your brain of all the rotten pollution of your mundane life. Looking at the water soothes the soul. Calm. Not boasting. You keep wishing to be a part of the scenery. Finally, a part of something beautiful. Step in; still everything around you is beautiful. You plunge into the water.
Then at that moment where you thought you had finally discovered beauty is where you know how mediocre your image of beauty is. The water and everything in it, transcends to a degree which is incomprehensible to your futile mind. The rays of light reflecting back from the peaceful creatures passing through the clear blue water and hitting your eyes sends shock waves through your brain. Every Grey cell soaking it up, like never before. Your mind rolls back the seconds to a place in time where beauty had a different meaning. You understand that this is just the surface. Feel like scratching? There has to be more than just beautiful banks. More than what your grandma told you. More than just radiating water. Are you ready? Are you ready to take the plunge?

EC-32: Time can’t be measured.

It’s all relative.

Maybe what I’m writing here is fiction in its purest form. Fragments of my imagination delivered at one bit per nano second.

It’s all crazy.

If it can’t be measured can we somehow reach the speed of light? Einstein proved that it can’t be done. Actually he proved that matter can’t accelerate to those speeds. You are thinking early signs of Alzheimer’s. I’m thinking the same.

Underwear inside. Check.

Pants outside. Check.

Super heroes were our models when we were young. You really should be ashamed of yourself. My theory is maybe we can slow things down. We can’t reach the speed of light but somehow we can slow it down.

Q 1. a) What are the benefits of slowing down time?

Answer: The benefits are as follows –

1. One can analyse each and every word that is emitting from the subjects mouth. Every expression can be watched, registered , computed and the output is stored in the main memory of the central processing unit.

2. In the situation of a social gathering of human subjects, the above mentioned experiment is conducive in obtaining a liquid which quenches thirst made by one of the capitalistic giants before others in the test enclosure can reach for it.

3. Oxygen is a requirement for combustion to take place. Filters in bikes provide air (containing Oxygen) for internal combustion to take place. Cigarette also burns with the help of Oxygen. Internal combustion of the soul. Smoked heart soup definitely not for the faint hearted.

The above statement holds good because the slowness of time gives you enough time to grab the poisonous concoction and put it to your lips.

4. The smoked filled atmosphere when slowed down can resemble a cloud cover

over the newly bought computer. The new age parents, fitness trainer, companion on lonely nights. The cloud cover and the halo are essential and can be viewed only when time is slowed down by 82.38% (all other values are considered ideal)

Slowing down time is a dream for anyone addicted to speed. Acceleration is the elixir but the feeling of time slowing down at whim after crossing 100 miles per hour feels almost spiritual.

Slow can be exciting but what about absolute control over time? Time and space when together seem rather far fetched. For now we just stick to time. Freeze it. All movements stopped. Silence engulfing the space around you. Pervert’s dream and a Saint’s destiny. Different things mean different for different people. Grammar is relative. Relativity stretched until the point of snapping. Releasing the finger is as dangerous as stretching it further.

Q. 2 c) What are the advantages of freezing time?

Answer: The advantages of freezing time are as follows –

1. Every major incident in one’s life can be frozen, captured and documented by using database management system.

2. Beauty that surrounds you in every form can be touched without you being stamped a pervert. Sense of touch is one of the five senses of a human along with sight, smell, taste and hearing.

3. Thought can be stopped. The clutter of waves hitting each other making that tingling sound which gives you a brain freeze can be avoided. Serenity.

I have only 7 internal marks. I need 43 to pass.

43+7=PASS

PS: I hate begging bit it’s a critical subject please do understand.

NUMBERS:
51 and newone rhymes.
51 and newone rhymes.

Then 51 and newone are the sameone.

TERRORISM (1,147,995,904-172,800,000=975,195,904):



The first terrorists to step on our holy motherland were white. They called themselves civilized and plundered our land and its people of all our dignity along with our wealth. The natural thing to do is to fight back. Take what is ours. This did not happen, instead we believed in a messiah. A man who claimed we didn’t have to fight because they don’t have enough bullets to kill us. Kalashnikov was just going through its initial stages of development and the Gatling gun was far too unreliable and besides digging graves for millions of people is pure hard work. And Two hundred years is more than enough to transport all the wealth so they got up and left. We didn’t make them. They decided to leave. An eye for an eye doesn’t make everyone blind because always the fittest survive. In the 10,000 years of cultured human living, non-violence has been successful at such a low rate that every instance can be counted by our finger tips. But here we are even today in this day and age where one little bomb can obliterate everything believing in non-violence like fools, fools who believe that their leaders can bring about change. For six decades we have been passive. We have advocated non-violence and suffered in quite dignity. Is this dignity really essential or is this some from of demented ego? Our so called neighbors have exploited us time and again. Now they are on our streets singing along killing people. The terrorist is not worried he knows no matter what he does he still has a high probability of getting away with it. He can attack the parliament and all his family has to do is light some candles and a draw a pretty little poster to grant him mercy and he can be back on the streets singing his favorite tunes, match each beat with a bullet putting a gaping hole into an innocent Indian’s skull. These people should be convicted quicker than the run time of a Hindi movie and executed. Executed brutally, the brutality should only be exceeded by the fact that it is aired live through out the world, along with commentary and cheer leaders. The entire demented notion of heaven and 72 virgins should be the last thing a terrorist craves. The death has to be a symbol; a symbol which says Gandhi died so did ahimsa. The next obvious step to do is rid the world of this cancer. When a person has a cancerous region on his leg, his leg is chopped off to save his life the same rule applies here. We have a population of 1,147,995,904 and Pakistan has 172,800,000. Even if you go by Gandhi’s theory of eye for an eye, we will still have 975,195,904 people to carry ahead our great culture. If a terrorist can die for 72 virgins, I can surely die for my country.

SOUND: Flawed sounds make sounds beautiful. The most beautiful things lose their beauty in the eyes violating them, abusing them, molesting them. Sounds go directly to the heart bypassing the brain in an attempt to reach those deep dark secrets once so beautiful, you guarded them with your life. Life tends to lose its meaning while sounds leave your heart. The laughter, the bitter cry, the burst of anger and the most important sound. The sound of pain. Scream until the pain goes away. Scream till the blood dries and the tears can’t find their way onto the cheeks. Blow out your eardrums, but you can still hear. You can hear your heart race, rhythm of life, rhythm so beautifully coordinated. Miss a beat and the world ends. The world ends for you and only you. No more sounds. Then it happens again. The sound of hope. The cries end and the eye hopeful. Change nears a blink away. Illusion.