Monday, August 31, 2009


It actually makes sense...
The deluge of contemptuous comments, the meticulously-perfected rolling of eyes, the claim to omniscience...
Though ridiculous, it all actually makes SENSE.
But makes sense of what???
It all makes sense of the fact that deep down, this self-styled deity is nothing but a boiling bubbling cauldron of mediocrity.....Mediocrity of the sort that reduces her to a despicable, ridiculous non-entity...A non-entity that reeks of the commonplace. So much so, that she would just roll by, and the world would but yawn and say (in mock-anger of course)- Where is my broom boy?! Now go clean up the mess!

However, let us not lose the vein of humour...
In other words, let us join our hands and wits to humour her who is all but clinically dead...
But is she dead?
Of course silly!
She is ridiculously dead to the 'thisness' of things (and thanks be to sir Duns for providing us with a word finally!) And so it goes, (sadly enough)that she would believe all to be 'inscaped' with her 'instress' (and hopkins takes a plunge from his high rise.) Sigh! If only she knew the world....
But of course she doesn't! To know the world, you need to smash all the mirrors lining your walls, to discard the umbrella and wade knee-deep in tea-coloured puddles, to crush under your heels the smirking halo of morality....
What would she know of these?
Of these, and much more?

So, to reveal to You what (excuse the unavoidable bouts of justified anger)a first-rate SCUMBAG you are, here are a few pointers...kindly take note-

a) You question a person's moral standards. we ask you- who put you up on the pedestal? (and just to be clear, wiping the blades of ceiling-fans balanced atop a pedestal does not qualify for this question, though of course, wiping of fans and other such stuff might form the essence of your existence.)

b) You mock our love. we ask you- do you even FEEL love? we doubt. for, to love requires an intensity of emotions and a spontaneity of spirits that you clearly (and vividly) lack.You call my love a 'wimp'. He might appear so (to your Almighty of course). but guess what? He loves me and i love the depth of our very core, a feeling that would take you more than a single lifetime to kindle within yourself. The pity of it...But then again, it takes god to pity a SCUMBAG (and excuse me again, oh ye scandalized readers!)

c) You think you are the epitome of culture and breeding, (what with a rabindrasangeet drifting effortlessly, albeit pointedly into our eardrums every time we called you on your telephone)but the truth to be told, culture and breeding are nothing but hot-air balloons punctured with a ball-point pen, (many times over)if they are not coupled with a flexible, unprejudiced and empathetic disposition. And sorry to inform you dear, but you lack in all three requisites. Your bigoted mind is of no worth to the free-thinking world. Or rather, YOU are of no worth to this world.You commented that at my house, it is the 'culture' to address every woman relative (save my mother) as 'aunty'. Well hello! First of all, you are ridiculous in your opinions, (which you so love to parade as established facts)and secondly, there is a vast difference between established culture and inherent culture. thank god that my family belongs to the second category, that my mom does not expect my man to be nothing but an IITian or a JU pass out, that she has never put me in shackles. Just goes to show dear, that culture goes haywire when you try to press it into bottles and put them under lock and key.

d) You ask why our friend does not secure as much marks as you. you celebrate the fact that you have managed to get more marks than me in every semester. you probably throw 'congratulation parties' for yourself where your over-zealous folks don lop-sided party-hats and blow mechanically on whistles (the ones that throw forth lurid-coloured plastic sparrows at their tips with every blow!) But wake up kid, school is over and done with. Robots who would learn by rote pages and pages of jstor notes, are not worth a dime in the world that we inhabit at present. We are all witness to your utterly pathetic efforts at oiling your imagination, your 'pillowtalks' have long been stifled, the pillows, long dead....even before you thought of writing. And if you are happy with your sugar-coated candies, so be it.

e) You said that success has gone to my head after i won prizes for dramatics. I have just two comments to make in that direction- 1> The thought of being a witness to my success was so unbearable to you, that you chose not to come even after repeated invitations to the said competitions. 2> Success? er, what do you know of that??? (a screech of a voice does not really qualify as a melodious voice, sorry to tell you that.)

f) You call yourself the connoisseur of fashion. You would not spare an iota of respect for the feelings of a person before blurting out on her face- this dress? it is so common, really! But i am perplexed- are those gigantic dangling earrings that you so love to clip on with every single attire that you don, so amazingly avante-garde that we, the fashionably illiterate souls, can not help but laugh our guts out every time we feel their menacing jingle jangle?

g) Finally, (since this has disgusted me to the very core of my being)as for your highly educated comment- " I'm sure anurag's mom would have preferred a better looking girl for her good looking son", i have just one thing to say- I pity the fate of the girl who would want to be married to your son, (if you have any that is)for she would be subjected to the most parochial and unlettered minds of all. I am sure the poor girl would wonder- is this woman educated at all?
(thank god that anurag's mom loves me for what i am, and not for what the petty mirror reflects!You see friends, the 'congratulations party' would not amount to much else other than the party hats and fake whistles!)

so you know, as we all actually makes sense.
such creatures as her are, by the gentle norms of humanity, to be pitied. Throw in a few coins in her chipped bowl if you like, for we haven't encountered a greater beggar than her.