Every day is pretty much the same day. Tongues may wag but that’s just natural. As he lay on the empty road, the stretch seemed to be amplified by his innocuous presence. But Ginger was wary. She had had enough of running up tress and blowing herself up into a ball of fur, more comical than scary. Unlike Whitey (Whose name, I am told, was placed by an apparently racist cat lady) Ginger did not command the area. She was; safe to be said, the only cat seen in the vicinity; the others scared off or adopted.


“Mew mew”

“Woof Woof”

“Woo*cough*ff, woo*(ACK!)*puke*off”

“Purr… Mew”

“Growl… Woof”

“Woo*cough*ff, woo*(ACK!)*puke*off”

And that was it. Amicably sorted. The cigarette packet would go to Buddy.

Buddy!

On why Buddy should not have swallowed the cigarette packet.

Goddamn him. They always said he was an ass-licker. Pretty much an everything-licker. The way he slobbered down the alley as I made my way, late as usual to work. With his dumb eyes he looked at me, probably wondering why anything but shit was ever invented.

Confused, yes he definitely is. Probably a half breed as 'Ogwarts would've put it, Buddy ambled on his lazy life chasing bright green tennis balls and empty cartons of cigarette; as I found out. He never did give a paw, or raise his hand despite several attempts and coaxing. Neither did he ask for more, he would come, "Pet me" and leave. That was quite his domain, you never had a say with the accurate amount of petting, it was all relative and the number of tennis balls caught that day would determine if he needed a nuzzling down the neck.

Whitey, on the other hand was probably his mother. No reason why he would ever shy away from an old, frail creature as she coughed and wheezed and puked and spat her way to doggie heaven.

The story was probably true. Yes, maybe a rickshaw did indeed ride over Buddy's paw. Maybe that's why the only thing that terrified him more, aside from me sneaking up on him were Autorickshaws. Never your everyday dog, Buddy would leap to safety within the confines of his domain as a rickshaw innocently tooted down the road.

Nope, Buddy was as scared as a cat. Probably more if he were to actually encounter one.

But that didn't explain his behaviour today. Why the cigarette packet?

More to come.

Wait, right there, Yep!

Starting Monday, there will be funny.

Jai Haiwaan, Kaun Kissan?

I’ve sown a seed of my helpless fate,

Waiting for deliverance from this miserable existence of mine,

I grow what you eat, fruits of my labor,

All honour all respect ceased,

I toil in the fields, burn in the merciless sun, make your bread;

Enjoy it on your festive table,

Realize my troubles,

Think of me when you chew your morsel,

My beaten skin cries in agony,

My bleeding heart pains of neglect,

Am I so unnecessary?

So invisible?

My plight lies in the shadows of your bursting joy,

Your happy life is blind to mine,

The noose awaits, my only escape,

That seed I sown has borne fruit,

That poisonous vicious cycle of torment

Must draw to a close, my eyes will obey,

As my life breath escapes in a gushing bellow,

And my eyes pop to the surprise of death,

Its welcoming arms, death feels not cold,

It is the indifference that does.

For you. Whoever you are

Thy shed a silent tear, my heart

Arisen out of a sudden fear,

Will I be loved ever, or will I love you,

The need to be held, to be loved is felt,

 

A hazy image forms,

A silhouette, a shadow,yet firm,

To be believed as you,

A belief I hold close to my heart,

 

For an image is all you are,

I know not you, just the love that I feel,

A silent power that encompasses.

Instills courage and the will to wait,

For you

 

A hug that would fill me,

Hide beneath your wings,

Cry in your arms,

I long, my lady love,

 

I am scared, beneath that façade of me,

To you I am true,

To you I am me,

The me I save for you,

The me you will save,

 

Come fast, for like a child I fear,

I need your touch,

Reassurance, you will be there,

Give me a sign,

I love you

 

An emotion kept suppressed,

Saved for you,

Like the tear shed, oh so silently,

Held gingerly in my palm,

 

That tear, arisen off the fear,

Love;

Lady, come;

Rescue me.

 

 

You vs. Maybe you maybe not you

" Mr. Mystery... Mr. Ambiguous... Mr. Clandestine..." drawled Jake Green's brother while describing Sam Gold, the elusive and feared Mafioso Head. 

"you've heard that voice for so long, you believe  it to be you...  you believe it  to be your best friend"

" he tells you what to do... and when to do it"

"what is the best place an opponent could hide? the last place you would look for him"

- Julius Caesar

Ring any bells?

you couldn't trust those bells anyway.

everyone has that 'small tiny voice' in their heads. what is that voice? who is that voice? 

is it you?

is it what some people refer to; as conscience?

why should it be you?

just because you've been listening to it since you've existed?

Hold on! Wait, wait... 'listen'??? 

Do you always  'listen'  to that voice, or do you simply  

'hear'  it?

there is a difference between listening and hearing you know.

' to listen' is to pay attention, evaluate, rationalize what you hear .

' to hear' is well, simply to hear. 

"WHATEVER"

is that what that voice is saying now?

 

why should you trust it? just because it's been there for so long?

or do you even trust it? 

of course you never literally 'hear' that voice; you 'think' it.

you could say that 'i think i heard that voice'; but then that voice wouldn't retain its credibility would it now? 

when you were sad, low, depressed; happy, even; that voice suddenly springs to life. 

Admit it.  

You talk to it, as if its your best friend. 

my question is,  'why'?

is that voice always right? it does advice you doesn't it?

According to many, that voice is somewhat similar to what 'Gandhiji was in Munnabhai 2'

it is a manifestation of what you believe in, and have learnt through various processes.

that voice is the astral manifestation of all you know.

i dont know.

i don't know if thats what is true. people say a lot of things don't they?

we don't trust everything.

then why do we trust that goddamn voice?

something that doesn't even exist.

Sam Gold.

the first few lines of this post have been quoted from, 'Revolver'; a movie based on mind games and mental manipulation.

'when you change the rules on what controls you, you will change the rules on what you can control'

isn't that voice controlling you now?

telling you that what your eyes are reading and what your brain is understanding, is utter crap?

do you believe it?

you say, ignoring the voice of course, 'let me read on'.

ok.

i, very honestly don't know what the voice is. 

i hear  it too, i mean, i 'think' it too.

but i don't necessarily believe it. 

rationale prevails.

that voice though, is like a guide you encounter while visiting heritage sites. 

desperate to show you around, but you'd rather explore yourself.

of course, you might just hire that guide, but then; it would be controlling you. 

what would you rather?

don't ask yourself this question.

you might just doubt that 'tiny little voice' now.

evil triumphs. 

when i was a kid, for some reason unknown to me, whenever i read comics, or watched cartoons, i hoped the bad guy would win.  may be it was the inherent evil in me or the dormant devil snoring, i don't know; but i wished for Skeletor to beat He-Man or Chamataka to kill Kalia. 

Not that i am a bad guy. 

half of you who must be reading this must have, by the few lines mentioned above, concluded that i am a sadist, BDSM loving, evil freak. 

hell, isn't everyone?

well, maybe not the BDSM part but i believe everyone IS a sadist and an evil freak.

we are, though; veering away from the topic.

evil triumphs. and I'm not trying to be the ubiquitous wannabe doomsayer, but have you ever wondered...

take any two adjectives, 

good x bad.

now make a two sentences, the first one having good at the start and the second one with bad coming before good.

1) he is good at being bad.

2) he is bad at being good.

what do both sentences imply?

that he is BAD.

another  example.

love x hate.

1) i love hating you.

2) i hate loving you.

basically i hate you.

evil.

still not satisfied?

Ok.

best x worst

1) he is best at being the worst.

2) he is the worst at being the best.

lets take the best.

happy x sad

1) he is happy about being sad.

2) he is sad about being happy.

so the man is sad.

i am not a cynic, or a pessimist or as said earlier, a doomsayer.

this was just a general observation, though some religious groups may decide to use this as a religious tenet and conduct extensive research on it. 

anyway, the point is that evil has always triumphed over its lesser brother, good; except in movies of course.

so tomorrow when you come back from a hard days work feeling low and shitty, you know who to blame.

don't ask me, you know who to blame.

what do you mean by who?

I'm not telling,

now THATS evil.