I need some inspiration…

June 15, 2007

There were times when I would have absolutously nothing to do many long hours. That was when I used to dream about being busy sixteen hours a day, not even having time to blink.

Now that I am busy sixteen hours with no time to blink I miss spending time with myself. I come back from work, login to Orkut and Gmail, realize from the lack of any new scraps and mails that the world has let my existence slip its notice like we quietly drop rolled chocolate wrappers on super busy main roads as we discuss what’s ailing our country with our super sanctimonious friends (I hate all bastards who do this and I want them to die the death of a dog on NH-4….that includes me by the way).

So now I’m sad because things are happening exactly the way I wished they would. This made me realize that I always want what I cannot get i.e. I’m constantly chasing my own tail. This has made my motivational levels see depths unknown to man previously. I guess the next time I see a crazed lorry driver coming the wrong way at me I won’t veer violently and unleash my non-CAT vocab on him.


Social Discussions – Simplified

May 21, 2007

Over the past century we have progressed leaps and bounds when it comes to communication technology. The result – TVs in every living room, easy access to the internet, mobile communication etc. We are now in the information age. Every other second there is something new you learn about the world, facts and figures to be shared and discussed. This whole process of processing, distributing and conferring has contributed to a tremendous increase in our collective acumen. Or has it?

No you fantasist dumb asses! If anything, it has increased this…

Bull Crap

Want to know what that is? Follow the step by step breakdown of the whole process given below. The pictures below are meant to illustrate a particular example of the information transmission process – The topic of interest here is , say, Lasith Malinga’s action;

Pleasant Meadow

A pleasant and inviting meadow – a metaphor for the cricket field that Malinga’s playing in, i.e the source

A bull grazing in the meadow

A bull grazing away blissfully in the meadow; think of this as the process of assimilation of the info by the commentators who are reviewing the day’s match

Bull shitting

The bull – shitting; the commentators analyzing on TV

Bull Shit

What the News Channels transmit and the newspapers print


This is you molding the info in ways that will make you seem well-informed so that you provide an excuse for all the time you recently existed

You - the peddler

So remember, the next time you tell someone that the batsmen are probably struggling to pick Malinga’s side arm action you are not enlightening someone, you are just peddling Bull Crap because you are neither Malinga nor were you one of the batsmen who faced him

The primary culprits of the information rape phenomenon are those CAT assholes who go around simulating GDs and PIs every living micro second of their existence and in the process turn perfectly nice and fun moments into rants on global warming, traffic problems(aaaaarghhhhhh!!), reservations, “unity in diversity”, biographies of bass guitarists of obscure rock bands and most importantly “India and development”. Stop it dudes! You don’t have to spend every moment in preparation for CAT. Lots of losers get into the IIMs, you will too.

Rage to riches…

April 21, 2007

We were asked to write a short story, preferably satirical, having the words I, me, blowjob, grapes, random, power, loneliness, water, robot and blue for a thousand bucks.

Here’s a modified version of the story that won me the thousand:

Life owes me a nicely lubricated, affectionately slurped and softly choking blow job for all the shit its dished out that i generously received while quietly concealing my avalanching desperation. It’s now been precisely twenty two years, seventy one days, eight hours, six minutes and thirteen seconds since I was dumped as a three kilo lump of flesh and bone with a generous helping of hair at one end and a barely visible jut somewhere in the center ( the ‘jut’ is now significantly large and in some circles is considered a ‘talent’) to lead an existence completely devoid of any purpose whatsoever. In all these years I did little other than bloat to sixty six kilos. I now wallow in constant loneliness latching on to random fetishes for what seem to hardly be flickers(time wise) in the scheme of nature.

Enough is enough! I’m setting out to educate the world. I will show all these hopeless romantics that life isn’t all rosy and that the grapes are sour regardless of whether they’re in reach or not. I mean, how silly can people get?! Do they actually believe the bloody wild goose chase that life is, is going to mean anything to the infinitude of the universe? To the far away galaxies that probably have creatures that could blow our very existence away with a simple fart of theirs? Power, respect, fame – what crap!

I see this man here, sitting blissfully with a book; a smile on his face, a hope in his eyes gazing into the vast blue above. I sit next to him and over the next half hour give him more than a piece of my mind. The book is down, the gaze directed to the filthy slums below and the eyes welled up; he says ” All this while, all this bloody while, I’ve been nothing more than a robot programmed to drop this veil over my eyes. A veil of denial of my insignificance, a veil that was opaque to this fallacy called life. I am, it turns out, nothing better than an animal being trained to breed and multiply.” He took it harder than I expected but such is the undeniable power of the supreme truth. I left the man and started walking away satisfied on having enlightened at least one of the poor bastards. I hadn’t gone far when i got this call on my mobile, the call that turned me from a smiling savant into something a lot more sinister. The call was from my uncle’s lawyer. My uncle, apparently, hadn’t noticed this little pup that strayed onto the freeway until it was almost too late. He steered violently to his right and had just enough time to see his innards fly past his eyes before he got completely crushed by the oncoming eighteen wheeler. Three years ago he did, however, draft a will according to which he left his mansion (built fabulously – Mughal style) and his nine figure bank balance to his quiet, mature and intelligent nephew – me. A ten tonne clamp couldn’t have closed my mouth at this point in time as I slipped the mobile back into my waiting pocket. I turned around, excited, wanting to tell my new found friend the good news that life, while being unforgiving and almost meaningless, went according to an elaborate scheme and that everyone gets his deserved due like I just did!

My watch hardly ticked ten times after this when it happened. I heard a loud shriek, its intensity rising in a way only Doppler could have understood. It thudded to a stop somewhere near the slum. I turned a corner and saw my friend lying in pool of crimson, his book unstaunched, his right elbow bent at a grotesquely reflexive angle to partially conceal his mashed facial features. It took a minute for me to regain my lost bearings. An image flashed by of his eager face as I said to myself ” He couldn’t take ten minutes of enlightenment. He couldn’t have suffered half a century of this. I guess nature had no scheme for him.”

I shrugged and looked around while the crowds gathered. I badly needed a drink of water.

Life Sucks. Period.

March 28, 2007

Man my life’s screwed up. I work at a place thats infested with lazy kaamchor assholes(with me leading the way of course) and it calls itself a private company, one among the ‘biggest industrial houses’ in a country that gives nuts to professionalism anyway.

But, on the bright side I’ve discovered the many virtues of self righteousness lately. The thing is nobody knows why we’re here and what we’re supposed to do anyway. So who’s to say whats right and whats wrong. One might say helping other people is good and breaking someone else’s leg is bad but don’t fall for it cos all these rules were made hundreds of decades ago by some paranoid loser who probably hated the world more than I did. So I’m right…everytime. So what if this sends me spinning down in a spiral of negativity? It makes me feel right atleast, something that my f’kin company can never do.

Going by the principle of ‘karma’ I probably butchered millions of newly borns, wiped extinct a few species, ran an industry that exploited to death third world workers and raped a few handicapped women while at it to deserve being in this shit hole.

Wake up…!

March 7, 2007

You’re an L. Please realise that.

Shake yourself out of the misconception that celebrity status is just a few years away. Why would you want to be a celebrity anyway? Just so your life ‘improves’ and you magically transform into a better person? Why the hell is there this obsession with the ‘fame’ phenomenon?

Consider this loosely coined figure: celebrities make up a tenth of society. So ninety out of every hundred are, as all the humbugs in Zoom and E! would have us believe, lesser people. You and all the other deluded souls are among this ninety aren’t you? Since you, so willingly, appreciate the fact that you are not the most superior being around and since you, with infinite fidelity, have submit yourself to smacking clean the latest celebrity’s fag end, there’s only one way out for you. End your life. I would.