Friday, September 14, 2007

Kill _____ (Vol I)

You know, I really need to make more enemies. Friends have their good qualities and come with bonus benefits and all that. They stick with you, and support you and lend money too. But really, they also like to eat starters and soup first, followed by food more than they can consume (or deserve to, in some cases), all to be heartily rounded off with dessert. Then they like to embarrass you in a restaurant full of people by singing to you, and urging you to stand and take a bow. All because its your birthday dinner.

I dont say this out of spite or sudden brainwave. I've thought long and hard over this. Enemies is what a guy really wants. Someone to despise, and someone to hate. I have a whole big bunch of friends - a few necessary close ones, a good number of medium distance ones, and a set of distant ones too. This does not even include the number of acquaintances I'm acquainted with. Every set of friends is properly defined in a continuous function within its own bounded interval (a bit of math jargon that), with only a few strays crossing over now and then, back and forth. Its all organized and catalogued, making it like a filing cabinet. You see how I mean its irritating? Its so nicely done up, that its unsettling and painful to behold.

Being on good terms with mostly everyone is excruciating after some time. Its like watching Three's Company, over and over and over and over. Then again after lunch. And you know you couldnt finish even one episode of that. What? You could? The Brady Bunch, then. There. I know its all beginning to sound horribly brutal and abominably cruel to the mind and senses, but things tend to get that way in your head, when you're sinking in the quicksand of nice, fulfilling relationships with one and all around you.

Which is why you need the hate. Why is why you need fewer friends. Which is why you need more enemies. Which is why, ok thats it.

I really need an enemy. Not an adversary, or a worthy foe. Not someone I must secretly respect for his/her talents, braincells, or sheer machiavellian brilliance, but destroy nonetheless. Thats too much work. I need a standard, simple, easy-to-hate person. A round-faced, sweet-smiling, innocent and angelic guy I would have no reason to despise and hate from the bottom of my heart, thus instantly making me despise and hate him from the bottom of my heart. And all this would be made all the better by the fact that his innocence would hinder him from expecting it of me, and he'd never believe anyone who said someone hated him enough to want to push him off the 4th floor terrace.

For, you see, I already have plans ready for whoever it is I shall finally bestow my ire upon. Sometimes, when I'm in class, I hatch evil plots of hideous revenge and cold retribution for all the unjustice not done to me by my yet imaginary nemesis. I vow to make his existence a slow and painful yearning for death. I swear by the blood of Zorg, my Neanderthalian ancestor, that I will make him shed copious tears and curse the day of his birth. The role person to be hated so in question will henceforth by played by the definite form of a male, for I find my revenge shall be far too brutal to carry out on females. They whine and they fret too much. I make elaborate drawings of my complex plans for his final doom, indicating with dotted lines the trajectory of the multiple Oriental knives that will pierce his body and marking out neatly in block letters the different locations at which his limbs will be scattered. Later I intend to burn the remainder of his body, and push him off the hostel terrace. And then, sitting with narrowed eyes, I'll wipe the blood of my yellow tightsuit, sheathe my Hatori sword, and laugh an evil laugh, chilling the blood of whosoever is within earshot. Things havent had the chance to move on to the destruction of his kith and kin, since this finds me at the approximate juncture when my teacher rudely brings me back to reality, represented by those fourier expansions or those equations of steady fluid flow.

Anyway, thats like the last stage. Dont think I'm only a bloody-minded nasty bad person-ish character. Before things proceed to the well-coordinated plans of torture and dishonourable death with the smell of burnt things and garbage, atop a dumpster at the end of the fall off the hostel terrace, shall come the initial stages of enforced social embargo and gradual-step-by-step-deterioration-of-life-plan I shall bring down upon the object of my hate. I'll tell you later, if you're interested. Examinations are closing in fast and furious, and I must make some headway through my books. I'll also keep you posted in case I find my enemy. Several likely candidates abound, but no one's quite yet progressed beyond deserving my sincere scorn and arrogant dismissal. The hunt is on.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Give! Now! Need!

Ok. Help is needed. Am in urgent (and that means very urgent) need of a time-stopping device. Nothing with too many frills attached. And I dont really care about the color, either. Just a user-friendly and efficient time-stopping device in good working order. So...who has a spare? Seriously, I need.

You see, I need to stop time. Right now. I need for the present to just about completely halt in its tracks. Then, since I do not intend to inconvenience you guys too much, I shall proceed to construct my own time-backward-goer-thingy. And then, I shall go back in time with it. And then, I shall stay there. And I probably wont be back for a long long time.

I know you want to know why, and you're just too much in the shocked-and-overwhelmed state of mind because I said I'm leaving, so I'll let you in. Uff and no, this is certainly not the time to point that I have an ego the size of Saturn. We're in a crisis situation, and you're my people.

Listen up, people. But look, dont tell anyone. Keep it to yourself, and breathe not a careless word outside. The slightest whiff and it could lead to catastrophe. Do not tell anyone about this. No one need know, and no one need even suspect the existence of such a thing. It has nothing to do with anything of course, but useless trivia has a way of affecting the way of things. But what in bloody hell, you ask? See, its this.

In a couple of days, a certain person of our acquaintance (i.e. me) shall have an age thrust upon him, which entirely suits him not. It is unfair for this to happen, and most definitely far too soon. It is simply unacceptable, and an absolute travesty. Also, a horrible misdeed, a gross misdecision, and terribly erroneous judgment. We are still young, and we are still bubbly and we delude in the imagination that we are still innocent. We like to frolic in lawns and chase after rabbits. We like to make faces at and pretend to communicate with snakes at the zoo. We like to believe in Peter Pan. Which is why, we most certainly do not deserve to have to turn 20.

There. Now, you know. As mentioned above, help and pitching in is urgently required. Provide time-stopping device at earliest, before its too late. Meanwhile, I shall pray for Tinkerbell to arrive. Neverland might just do the trick. In case that works out, its tra la for good, folks. In case it doesnt, I vow to crusade to never grow up. Long and deliberate pondering has led to the conclusion that adulthood is a mantle best suited for dead people and for people who can pick Paulo Coelho over PG Wodehouse. There is still, we find, too much to be young for. Give it to other eager people, who see not the folly afoot. I will not go. For there are still childish things to speak of, and fancies to indulge, chocolates to drool on, lawns to skip lightly across, and things to shrug away. I dont want to be a grown up. I wish only to stay as now, and laugh at them and their things.

PS: Since you must know, no one, and I mean no one, is to wish me a happy 20th. It is not the 20th. It is merely the 1st anniversary of my 19th birthday. Period.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Final Part of LOTR Trilogy (3,6,2,3,4)

Not dillydallying much, but coming straight to the point, I must say I must confess.

I must confess. I'm actually a little nervous about writing in here again. Its been so long. A month without a post! Its not like I stayed away. They made me. Imagine taking away a young impressionable child's internet facilities! I feel slightly scarred. Anyway that later. There is so much to talk of. The events of a month's worth of 2nd year college. The perambulations about town. The indulgence in criminal pursuits of ragging and and that most fantastic game called freshie-catch. The important and horribly significant people in my life - my laundryguy, my room-cleaner and the autodrivers who rush me about. For existence, dear friends, has become a hurried affair of late. We must fly, on the wings of time, which forever threatens to leave us behind. Time has run short, the hours are slinkier, and days pass by without so much as a second glance to see if we needed anything. We are become a busy people.

Such is the situation today as well. Which is why I cant, most unfortunately, stay to dillydally. But I have put in a few words today. And I feel the writing bug bite gently into my leg again. Or is that another damned mosquito? Either way, I have tasted ink again. Wait a bit longer, I urge you. Posting shall resume in the most awe-inspiring and dam-breaking-and-water-rushing-out-like-madness manner.