The symphony of life

Sam was confused whether to live or to kill himself. The confusion was intolerable. Living meant that he had to live with the ignominy everyday. His bad policies as the head of the business had meant the bankruptcy of the business. And with it the money and hopes of millions of investors had vanished. Within weeks he had turned from a multimillionaire to a man faced with a gigantic debt. Faced with these thoughts he thought suicide was the only recourse. Anything to run away from the mounting debt. Anything to flee the harsh reality of life.

Sam had been a good person even when he was rich. He had given away half his wealth in philanthropy and had always lent a helping hand to anyone who asked. Now, once he was branded a failure, everyone shirked away from helping him climb the hole he had dug himself in.

The empire that he had diligently built over 3 decades had been frittered away in a few weeks. The medicines which his business manufactured to cure common cold turned out to have the side effects of causing cancer and weakening the immunity system. The discovery of the side effects led to a barrage of lawsuits from all over the country. And Sam saw his business crumbling in front of him. He lost all his money, went into debt to pay for the lawsuits and most painfully he had blood in his hands. His medicines had destroyed lives and families.

Sam was crestfallen as he feeling hopeless. If it wasnt for his wife, he would have killed himself long time back. His wife Stella would be heartbroken if he killed himself and Sam too could not bear to live without her. If only there was a way to get out of the mess, he would repay the debt and live a simple life with Stella for the rest of his life. Sam had never given up in the face of problems before. If he did so now, it would mean deserting Stella. And what would Stella think of him if he killed himself. A coward who could not even tolerate a business setback. No, that would not do Sam thought. He would live and somehow survive the ordeal rather than disappoint Stella. Yes, Sam thought, I will live. All he needed was 30 million dollars. That was the amount he needed to repay the debt. After that, he could start with a clean slate. His many years of business experience and his business acumen would ensure he got a decent job which would mean that he and Stella could atleast live a decent life with that money. He remembered that he had made a 100 million dollars contribution to the Bill Gates Foundation a few years back. He would go to Bill Gates himself and surely his request for some 30 million dollars would not be refused. Sam smiled. There was hope after all. Once he repaid his debt he would save enough money to construct a Cancer Hospital to redeem himself from the guilt that he was feeling everyday. After a long time a wish to survive developed inside him. And all this was due to his dearest Stella. What would he have done without his dearest Stella. He bought a bunch of sweet smelling flowers and almost ran back to his home. Stella would be so happy to see a smile on his face after such a long time, Sam thought. He opened the door and saw Stella talking on the phone. Stella's shoulders were drooped in a defeated posture. That would all change Sam thought. Then Sam saw Stella talking on the phone " Now that Sam has lost all his money, there is no point in staying with him. I have already called up a divorce attorney. I wished he had been bankrupt 10 years back. Atleast I would not have been with such a boring person for these many years"

Sam was no longer confused after hearing these words. He jumped out of the balcony and killed himself.

The axis of evil

"I Have heard God" said Janus.

"You are crazy" his friend Mott replied. " What did your God say. That you are his chosen one or did he tell you that you are his son"

"My God says that I will have to be a Saviour from evil"

"Saviour from evil eh. Very original. Quit Joking buddy. I have other things in hand. I have a whole newspaper to handle"

"I have to pass on God's message to the people. Can you publish it for me"

"You really have gone crazy my friend. I have to arrange a meeting with a quack for you. You can tell him whatever Mr. God told you."

" I m just asking for a 10 line article. Surely you can manage that."

"look. I know you for 10 years. And you are among the sanest people I know. I will publish your thing but i m going to give a humorous touch to it, or else I will be the laughing stock. And after that you have to promise me you are coming with me to the psychiatrist once it's published"

"God's word has to be known. He will be pleased. Spread the word that due to the degeneration of the people, the Devil wants to take over everything. The forces of devil are merciless, cruel and powerful. In USA , thousands will be dead this month. This is the word of God"

"Buddy, my newspaper is read by millions of people. There is no room for conspiracy theories in there. But your God knows that people need a laugh nowadays. I will make sure that your message is taken as a joke."

" The believers just need a sign. Just a word from the almighty is enough. You may laugh now. But once the forces of evil are at your doorstep you will realise God's word"

"I m arranging the meeting with the Doc this Sunday and your message will be "spread" tomorrow"

" Let the war with evil begin"

Two weeks later.

"Janus, you have to come with me to see the doctor. I did as you said, but you have to keep your word"

" My word is not important. The wishes of my Lord are important. His words are important."

"God, Janus. What has happened to you. Please come to your senses. You are becoming delusional. God did not speak to you. You imagined it. I have to be honest with you. You saved my son's life. And I will be forever grateful to you. And that is why I m being brutally honest with you. I havent slept for a week now because I m so worried. You are driving me crazy too Janus. Atleast hear me out Janus. You can watch the TV later"

"You need to watch the TV but. Maybe then you will believe God's word"

Mott froze when he saw a news shown on TV. He wouldnt believe it. 50000 people were believed to be dead in one of the deadliest terrorist attacks. A very high intensity bomb exploded in a skyscraper in Chicago during office hours and the whole building collapsed. Mott thought that this was some sort of a cosmic practical joke till he saw the dead bodies on TV"

" This has to be the Chinese venting out their hostility. But they will pay for this. This is unimaginable"

" These are the forces of evil. My sweet lord had warned you and the people already. I was just his messenger"

"You almost seem happy that this attack happened. You think that you were right, but let me tell you that this was a random co incidence. Nothing else"

"I will leave that for the people to judge. They have read the Master's message some time back. This prophecy is enough for the faithful"

"Yes. This would be enough for most of the people who read your message. I dont doubt it. Sure enough. 20000 people have already commented on our message about your message. Looks like they believe that you are their saviour"

"And I am. This time I will communicate my sweet Master's message through the internet'

"Janus, this is not the time to fool around. i request you not to do that. You will cause panic and make the situation worse. Please be logical. I used to envy your logic. You seem to have lost it but"

"My logic is intact. That is why I m the Chosen one and you are not. The Lord tells me that a very important person of USA will die. We have to be ready for his death. I need to tell the believers to search for the successor to take on the evil"

"Surely Janus you cannot publish that on the net. Cant you see that you just got lucky. You just got lucky. Dont you understand it"

" You are foolish and ignorant. I cant waste time talking to you. A lot of responsibilities are on my shoulders. The word of the Creator has to be posted"

A week later, Mott was at his office when he heard that the President was assassinated in a suicide bomb attack. The suicide bomber was a white male"

"Maybe the Russians are involved in this Mott. Why dont you track that line. I will send you a bunch of investigative journos" The chief Editor told Mott

"Sure Boss. That would be Ok" Mott replied. His eye had a faraway look. He knew that the Russians were not that important to him as much as the flurry of activity that would be happening on the net due to Janus' prophecies.

"Mott, we have an issue. The CIA chief just called. One of the contributors to this newspaper predicted both the events. He must have been an insider. Gosh, These are exciting times for the newspaper"

Mott had already left the place to leave  for Hotel Sherathon in New York where Janus was residing. When he reached he saw Janus surrounded by a coterie of followers. Janus had started keeping a beard and hadnt trimmed his hair for quite a while. Inspite of everything, Mott smiled. No matter how Good janus was at prophetic skills, he scored low on originality. Janus saw Mott and gave him a triumphant smile

"Mott I m glad you have come. I m scared without you. I cannot handle my followers adoration. You have to manage them. I m the reincarnation of an oriental diety. Thats what my followers say I m. But i dont like to be glorified like this. I m just a messenger of truth"

"Janus, I still dont believe you. Do you know that there is a woman who won the national lottery twice. In today's world, prophecies like the ones you made can pretty much happen. You just got lucky with the timing"

" Mott, you disgust me. I think that you are jealous that you do not have the visions I do. Because you were my only friend I used to have, I will give you one more chance to believe me. Very soon,the axis of evil will try to do a daredevil stunt that will stun the world. When this vision comes true even you will believe me. Now I have to leave. I have an interview with the media scheduled"

800 kms away, a group of people were celebrating the President's assassination. They were a secret society who called themselves Satanists. They believed that they were the descendants of Satan himself and prided themselves to be evil. The society existed for centuries and its members were quietly planning an event that would mark their arrival to open society. the proclamation from Janus in the newspaper was a sign that they were looking for all along. That got the machinery moving that they had put in place.

Their head was a nuclear Scientist for a US reactor and it was Child's play for him to steal the chemicals required for the high intensity bomb.

When Janus next proclaimed that a very important was going to be killed, the Satanists took that as a sign. A Satanist blasted himself a little distance away from the US President's car. The ability to make such powerful bombs lied only with American Nuclear researchers, among whom the chief of Satanists was a part of.

When Janus predicted that the axis of evil would surprise the world, the chief satanist smiled. It was time to deal with the messenger of good.

The next day, a plane crashed into the Sherathon hotel killing 300 people. It created chaos and panic all over the world. Janus was right yet again. But it was last prophecy he ever made. He was among the 300 killed.

A bad hair day

Keshav was a lucky person in a way. He did not have to shave that regularly because his hair growth was less. Otherwise he was pretty unlucky. He was effeminate in nature and thus all his manhood was spent in proving it. His schoolmates used to taunt him with nicknames like "girlie" and those taunts used to echo in his head long after they had been said. He longed for a decent friendship with someone but as soon as he neared getting close to someone, the other person would remark about his feminine tendencies. After that, Keshav could not bring himself to be friends with the other person as he lacked self esteem and did not consider himself worthy.

The one person whom he truly adored was his father. His father was a simple person and treated Keshav with warmth and affection. Keshav, in return, would do anything to gain his father's approval. Keshav's main aim in life was to buy a sparkling high end Mercedes for his dad. He used to envision the pride that his father would feel and the happiness in his father's eyes. These thoughts never failed to propel him in his pursuit of wealth.

One day, two acquaintances came to meet Keshav and Keshav excitedly introduced them to his father. On meeting them, his father said " Keshav, look at the fine beard these two men have and then look at you. You are such a girl." Keshav felt his heart sinking at these words. He tried to give a smile and replied " Atleast I save money on the shaving razor."

Tom's day out

Tom was a wasted genius. Everyone thought Tom was a nobody. Nobody even gave Tom much of a thought. And that was how Tom preferred it. He had his mouth organ and that was the best friend he had. The other musical instruments understood him as well, but the mouth organ was something that he had deeply bonded with.

Tom could not speak clearly, and strangely his voice had a rough jarring tone which was deeply unmusical. But his hands did the talking and more than made up for the lack of vocal expression. It did not take him more than a few hours to learn an instrument and a few weeks to master it. But his talent was known to no one. When his father discovered Tom playing the mouth organ he threatened to confiscate it or throw it away in the drain if Tom did not study instead.

Tom was feeling particularly sad as his father had kept up the promise and taken away Tom's beloved mouth organ. It was a week since he had played any music. His hands were itching to play something. He could live easily without talking but not playing music was utmost suffocation for him as that was his only mode of expression. He felt like an addict in search of his weakness. He ran to the music room in his school hoping that it was empty. He could not play if people were around. Luckily the music room was deserted. He looked around for a mouth organ but settled for piano when he could not find it.

As soon as his fingers touched the keys he was a changed person. It was his craziest performance ever. He had never felt this alive before. The music somehow magically conveyed all the frustration that his stammering lips could not. The music itself carried hope to Tom that all was not lost. That he could co exist in the society too. He was not as maladjusted as he thought he was. In the form of his music. he could offer something of value as well. In his haste to play music Tom had forgotten that it was school hours. When he finished, he noticed a bunch of people standing behind him. For the first time in his life, Tom was happy that there was an audience which had witnessed his performance. He hoped his performance had an impact on others as well, as much as it had on him. He smiled at them. The crowd replied with angry stares and hateful gazes. A school exam was going on in the class next door, and it had taken the authorities 15 minutes to knock down the door of the music class. A teacher nearby took Tom by the ears and detained him in the headmaster's room where he got the shouting of his life.

The headmaster felt highly satisfied that he had brought a culprit to book and showed him the right path. His shoutings at Tom also vented out the frustration that he was feeling. For not getting the due recognition that he deserved about the fact that the mayor had shook hands with him.

Tom went away quietly. His hands had stopped itching and he no longer felt the urge to play his mouth organ.

Robbie

There was something intriguing about Robbie. I never knew I wanted to write a story about him. Then one fine day I met him and I told him " Robbie, I am going to write a story about you". The words just came out. there was nothing intentional or unintentional about it. It was the most natural thing in the world. It was as natural as wanting to eat an ice cream when you see someone else eating it and before you know it, your wallet is lighter and your stomach is not.

When i got down to writing the story, I started regretting it. The story involved getting into the head of a person and begin to think like him. This is the most unnatural thing in the world. I wanted to chuck the idea of writing a story and eat ice cream instead.

But my interpretation of Robbie has to be told. Because Robbie being Robbie will never remind me to keep my word about writing a story about him. Or else I would be eating an ice cream right now. By now Robbie might even have forgotten the conversation about me writing a story about him. Some people like Willie would have told their great grand children that somebody wanted to write a story about them. But Robbie would not care. He would already be in the lookout for the next new adventure.

My interpretation can be done and got over with in one simple sentence. Robbie is a Hedonist. His wily, slimy, cunning and dishonest eyes keep looking for the next new instrument of pleasure. He is addicted to addictions. And thats why I dont see a rosy future for him. Already I feel his mind is becoming numb. Numb to control, numb to responsibilities and most dangerously he is becoming numb to emotions like fear. Thats the danger any Hedonist faces in his life. Hedonists can be most found in two locations. Hospitals or prisons. They have a streak of self destruction in them. Hopefully, Robbie wont self destruct. He is a great guy. One of the funniest and the wittiest around. He loves everybody and thus loves no one in particular.

MBA's are the creatures who are achievement seekers. Title, prestige, recognition, fame and money is what drives them. A need to feel superior is inbuilt in them. For Robbie, these qualities are conspicuous by their absence. He seems destined to a life of mediocrity because mediocrity is what he seeks. Mediocrity hardly needs responsibilities and that is what Robbie loves best. He loves a reckless life where the only purpose is to look for the next new adventure.

Kyunki Killer

John was bored. He had not killed anyone for quite a few days now. He killed a couple of cockroaches for fun. It passed his time for a bit but did not give him the rush he seeked. But it did tickle him to see that one of the cockroaches he had smashed was pregnant. The body was cut into two pieces and an egg like thing had erupted in between. The other cockroach he had smashed was almost dead but not quite. It was writhing in what seemed to be intense pain. John took pity on it and killed it instantly.

John always had violent tendencies from quite a young age, but his intense need to kill was just a one month old phenomenon. And in that month, he had killed 7 people. His last victim was a history teacher. He chose a history teacher because he was watching the history channel when the need to kill engulfed him. He switched off the TV, went to a phone booth and invited himself to tea with the nearest history teacher he knew. He walked to the history teacher's home, and saw the history teacher waiting eagerly for him. The history teacher was feeling lonely for a while as he had difficulty making friends. The self invitation from John made him feel that atleast somebody wanted to interact with him. He cordially greeted John and invited him inside. Once inside, John could not wait for the formality to get over. He asked the history teacher whether he had informed anyone else of his coming. When the history teacher answered in the negative, John took out his silencer and shot the history teacher straight in the eye. The history teacher died instantly. John wondered whether he had hit the bull's eye. The bullet had taken a part of the skin along with the eye.  John thought to himself that he needed to practice his shooting. He wondered whom to kill next for practice.

A few day's later, When John saw the dying pregnant cockroach, his question was answered. He believed it was a signal from above. John had a weakness for symbolism. His next target would be a pregnant woman. He loaded his silencer and went to a phone booth to call up a single pregnant woman he knew and invite himself over. She was delighted to hear of his self invitation and said she would be waiting for him. She was delighted and happy because she had one more person to whom she could tell about Drake, the guy who had ditched her for someone else. When John arrived and got done with the formalities of greeting, he asked her whether she had informed anyone about his coming. When she answered in the negative, John aimed for the eye and shot her. It was instant death. John ran to her quickly to see if he had got the bull's eye. It was a clean shot. It had hit the eyeballs and nothing else. John was proud of himself.

The killing rejuvenated John and the next morning, he went to work with renewed energy. When he entered the office, he was informed that his boss had called him to his office to brief him about something. In the boss' cabin, his boss, the chief of police said "John, I am assigning you to the serial killer case which is raising a big hue and cry. Your expertise with guns will prove to be a big help in the case."

Once the briefing got over, John felt a huge sense of responsibility on his shoulders. He was on the quest of finding himself. Buddha would have approved.

Smiran's fable

Hi. I am anonymous. U can call me anon. Not because its cooler or anything but because it saves breath. My name is not important. I am a non entity. The story that I have to narrate is not important as well. It does not need to be told nor read. Before you read on an official disclaimer from my side: This story is an useless piece of shit. Discharged and excreted from the deepest recesses of my mind.

The story is about two ants, A and B. A was more important because he had met the queen thrice whereas B had met her once. The more you met the queen, the more your ego would get the boost. So the ants which regularly met the queen thought too much of themselves. They could easily identify the ones who were less important than themselves and the identification factor was pride. If they met or touched someone from the lower castes they would spit at them. This would further inflate their ego whereas the spitted ones would get more deflated. Now A was sick of coming in contact with B regularly. Even though spitting at B made him feel good about himself, the touch itself disgusted him. So he came up with an idea of segregating all the ants which met the queen once or less and placing them in the anthill that was in a waterlogged area. Thus the ants which considered themselves superior would live in the other anthill which was not in the waterlogged area and the chances of the anthill getting immersed in water was next to nothing. When the next rains would come, the waterlogged anthill would get completely immersed in water and hardly few ants would survive. Feeling even more proud of himself, ant A conveyed this idea to the caste minister who updated the details and info about the ants who met the queen. The idea was readily accepted by the caste minister. All the lesser proud ants were circled and thrown into the waterlogged anthill. The lesser proud ants could only hope for a severe drought as this would be the lone way in which all ants could survive. When the monsoons arrived, it flooded like never before. None of the ants in the waterlogged anthill survived.

Moral of the story: Life is unfair.

Rhyme till its no longer a crime

I wanted all things
To seem to make some sense,
So we all could be happy, yes,
Instead of tense.
And I made up lies
So that they all fit nice,
And I made this sad world
A par-a-dise

A Bokonon Calypso.

SAB Titled

John was so extremely ordinary that he was "extra"-ordinary. But underneath the guise of overordinariness there was one talent hidden from all. He could judge people's neuroses and delusions with pinpoint accuracy. He had met thousands of people and all of them over the age of 12 had some kind of neurosis. As soon as you reached teenage it seemed you become neurotic. Judging people's neurosis became his favourite hobby. He even collected the zaniest and the craziest of neurosis that he could find. He was always on the lookout for collectibles. The waitress who just served him coffee believed that her son was a reincarnation of Jesus and one day she would be made the chosen one to her son, the messenger of God, the Messiah. John wondered whether this particular neurosis could be a collectible. It was interesting, but on the other hand, it was too common as well to be one. But what the heck. The neurosis made the waitress feel special, otherwise she would have killed herself years ago.

Inspite of his ability to judge the neurosis of others, he could never judge himself. He knew he was neurotic. More so than the average neurotic individual. But what exactly he was neurotic about had somehow eluded him. He could not look inwards. No matter how much he tried. Probably the power lies in my eyes, John wondered. "Probably I need to see people to discern their neuroses". This insight made him immediately find the nearest mirror and then proceeded to look deeply into his own eyes. He desperately wanted to know his own neurosis and gazing deeply into his own eyes seemed to be doing the trick. He was excited and hesitant at the same time to finally discover what he was searching for his whole lifetime. He was going to give himself the taste of his own medicine. And then,finally, truth dawned on him and he discovered his own neurosis. It was something that he had never imagined and it could not have been worse. The truth was that he was deluding himself all along and he never could judge other people's neuroses. It was all a figment of his own imagination. He was as ordinary as ordinary could be.

Ram Mohan Roy ( 28.01.07 )

He looked up at the warden and said nothing. He said nothing because he had nothing to say. Infact he could not remember the last time he had said something. For him, everything ceased to exist. His last hope had also gone. His only route to escape.

He had wanted to kill himself by wringing his own neck with the bedsheet, but the usually inefficient warden, Mr. Roy, was awake that night. He had meant to be silent that night but a groan had escaped from his throat and this the warden had heard. He could not even die in peace. After that incident, his bedsheet and pillow were taken away and he had to sleep on hard ground. His misery knew no end.

His name was Ram. He was an ordinary guy living an ordinary life. He was an unusually silent person. He talked only to reply and he talked in monosyllables. He had made only one good friend in his life. His friend was Mohan. They both worked as assistant accountants and earned just enough to keep their stomachs filled.

Ram could still remember that fateful night. Inspite of all his efforts to forget, the incident seemed to have been etched in his memory. After another monotonous and dreary day at the office, he had set out to go to  Mohan`s home. He rang the bell but no one answered. He pushed the entrance door and it turned out to be unlocked. Inside, he saw his friend lying on the floor, stabbed on his chest. The sight of so much blood unhinged him for a moment but after regaining his senses he rushed to take out the knife from his friend`s chest. This proved to be a mistake, as his fingerprints in the knife would later sentence him to a life in jail. The knife stab had done enough damage on Mohan, he was dead. Ram`s next reaction was to call the police and inform them of the stabbing. After that, he left for his home and as soon as he reached his home, he collapsed on his bed.

It took a month for the city police to trace Ram. The investigating officer was keen to prove his intelligence and worth. Taking Ram`s fingerprints as conclusive proof, he piled up enough evidence to convict Ram of murder of his friend Mohan.

The judiciary was quickly convinced of Ram`s guilt. It took the judge only 3 years to decide that Ram was indeed a murderer. After listening to the public prosecutor about the case, even Ram was unsure about his innocence. It seemed to him that whoever was a better speaker between the defense lawyer and the prosecutor would get the result in his favour. The public prosecutor turned out to be a smooth orator and Ram got a life term. After witnessing this farce called justice, Ram suggested to the judge to punish him with the death penalty instead of the life term. This further confirmed Ram`s guilt in the eyes of all.

In jail, Ram was gifted a special cell all to himself where he could live in solitude. He owed this luxury to the fact that he was a dangerous murderer. In the beginning, he would tell that he was innocent to the only person in his vicinity, the Warden. The Warden would do nothing but nod his head. Eventually even those words faded away and ram stopped speaking at all.

17 years later, it was time for the Warden to retire. In these years he had not failed to notice the agony in Ram`s eyes. Never for a moment had he believed that Ram was a murderer. The Warden was basically a good man. In a gush of sympathy for Ram, he asked Ram whether he could do something for him. Ram wanted nothing but to end the never ending misery and torment that his life had become. Ram asked the Warden to lend him a blade. The Warden instantly understood the implication of the words, yet he agreed for he was a good man. Ram took his life the same day and finally gained the freedom that he was longing for.

The next day, the Warden received a notice stating that prisoner Ram was to be released and his life imprisonment term was to be reduced considering his good and peaceful behaviour.

A modern fairy tale

He knew what he was doing. People considered him insane but he was in total control of himself. Even when he was pricking his nose in public or cold-bloodedly killing a man in privacy. The world outside suffocated him. The others did not want to think nor feel. Pre-programmed bunch of automations he thought of them. No wonder people have stopped wondering he wondered. No one was able to understand him. He saw a dog from the corner of the eye. Maybe that dog could understand him. Energized by this thought he ran to the dog. "Woof Woof" he told the dog. The dog gave him a blank look. The dog started thinking " Would it be OK if I pee on it. I hope it wont bite me or scratch me with its claws". The man confused the blank look for an understanding look and hugged the dog lovingly. The dog pissed on the man lovingly. The dog and the man became instant friends and lived happily after for like two minutes.

What is the purpose of living. The purpose is theorising anything and everything.

"What" He asked.

"What What?" Someone asked.

"What is what?" He asked. He got into the mood. "Define what for me. What is the meaning of what?"

Someone looked into the floor. Someone and He had a strange relationship. They both never understood each other but needed each other because they had no one else to talk to. Someone was perplexed by what He was talking about.

'What the hell is what' Someone thought without giving it much of a thought. What can what be, he had no idea.

"What is the question?" Someone asked Him.

"What itself is the question" He replied. He had something going on in his mind but he did not know "what" it was. 'What can it be?' He was thinking. But thinking was proving to be too painful and difficult. "What is there for breakfast" He said, trying to change the subject.

"OK, so what is a thing to eat, why didn`t you tell me before" Someone replied.

Now, it was His` turn to get confused. He could not get what someone was saying. "What`s going on?" He asked.

Someone replied "I dont know".

Our friend He wanted to sound intelligent and tried to control the situation. He said "If we come to know just what is then we will come to know what is going on".

Someone did not want to be left behind in the game of sounding pseudo intellectual. Someone replied " If we know what what is then we will eventually come to know what is the meaning of life and then we will know the ultimate answer to the existence of the universe"

Satisfied with this explanation, both He and Someone proceeded to eat breakfast. Dont ask "what" it was that they actually ate.

A happening thing happened.

He was in pain. A pain which cannot be described easily. The pain was not due to any physical hurt. The scarring was deep inside. Within him something had burst and he was suffering internally, bleeding from inside. Outside he looked jolly to the world, always smiling and always cracking jokes, but all those smiles were a mask to hide that same pain. People looked at him and liked him instantly. They never saw what he was going through every moment. Nobody did. He was just trudging along existence,suffocating inside and sometimes having difficulty breathing. He would break down when alone and lie down looking at the ceiling all night. Imagining the walls crushing him from all sides. His eyes would be blank with sorrow, looking but not seeing. He had to live with the knowledge that the one person he loved the most, his mother, could die any moment.

The curious mystery which happened on a tree.

John and Terry were sitting on a tree in an open field and were trying to write a poem. They were writing a poem separately. But coincidentally they wrote the very same lines and the very same words. Even the commas matched to the dot. Incidentally both did not use any commas. This is the poem they wrote-

Random Nothingness.

Onwards towards the path of nothingness
Nothing has been seen and nothing has been taken.

On the path to disaster and plenitude
Seemingly smart, but obnoxiously dull.

There is nothing but flotsam and jetsam of everything
The life, the universe and everything as Dougie would put it.

Onwards towards the path of nothingness
The destination is reached when you dont know that you have reached it.

They compared the poems that they had written. When they noticed that the poems they had written were identical they were dismayed. Now they would have to converse with each other. Reluctantly, they started conversing. The quality of conversation was not bad. This was how it went.

John-" My day job is of an equity analyst. Instead, I daydream and become an existential analyst"

Terry-" I am a professional nailcutter. People who are too bored and lazy to cut their own nails come to me to get their nails cut. I have a booming profession"

John-"Oh"

Then they started looking at the hands of each other. Terry had the most beautiful and well shaped hands. Just like words shape your mind, the shape of the hands blow away your mind. John was getting blown away by the shape of the hands. He noticed his own hands. His hands were identical to Terry`s. He got suspicious. He carefully looked at Terry and noticed his reflection looking back from a mirror placed on the tree. He cursed expletives at having met himself. Is my name really John, John wondered. "No", his mind replied, "Your name is Jerry and you are a combination of John and Terry".

"Very convenient" thought Jerry who previously existed as John and had an alter ego called Terry.

Jerry was perplexed. He started contemplating the complexity of the situation. He decoded the situation as follows-" Its cloudy today. Chances of rain perhaps" Jerry concluded. He jumped from the tree, landed on the ground and proceeded to buy an umbrella.

The story of Alfred and Christopher, one Nihilist and the other Philosopher.

Alfred and Christopher were plagued by problems. Their problems were not the normal ones that you and I face. Theirs were of a different kind. Both of them had matured too early for their age. At age 10, when kids of that age would think of videogames or games of any sort, these two friends would discuss Socrates, Marx and Bertrand Russell. They would talk and talk and talk. One fine day they discovered the fruitlessness of life. Alfred was the first to discover it. He told his friend “Life`s of no use buddy. Eat, sleep and shit. That’s all there is to it”. Christopher comprehended it, but pretended not to. He did not want to. He went home and went to sleep. When he woke up he was a changed man. Nothing mattered to him anymore. He did not feel like earning money. His dad had left him enough money that he could eat, sleep and shit for a lifetime. He did not feel like achieving fame and success. That would only result in eating unhealthy fast food which does not taste half as good as home food. Fame and success would ensure a luxurious bed, but that would not ensure a good night`s sleep. Chasing fame and success did not seem like a good idea if it would lead to sleepless nights. Ofcourse you could shit royally if you made loads of money. There was something to fame and success after all, Christopher felt. Shitting in a palatial bathroom would be orgasmic almost. He felt a surge of motivation and an excessive urge to achieve fame and success. But these sentiments only lasted till he remembered his own bathroom. In his own bathroom, he had made friends with Gary the Mouse and Tommy the Cockroach. They had made his bathroom their natural habitat and lived a well settled life there. No, he couldn`t desert his comrade at arms. If that meant sacrificing metallic and aesthetically designed faucets and technologically advanced bidets, so be it. He was a guy who stuck with his friends through thick and thin. So the idea of fame and success was thrown out of the window. He leapt out of the window himself and proceeded to take a walk in the park. There he saw people worrying and brooding over the problems hanging over their head. Christopher felt intense jealousy when he looked at these people. “These people are so alive” he thought. The people had so many things to worry about. Job security, spouses, weight, kids, their education, getting ahead of others in the success ladder, owning a shinier car than the neighbour, the sky falling on their heads or wondering where their next meal would come from. Yes, people had so many things to worry about. There were real problems and messy situations. And here he was with nothing to worry about. He started worrying about this. Immediately he started feeling better. There was meaning to life after all. This sudden realisation struck him like lightning. “That’s it”, he thought “I will worry because there is nothing to worry about”. Excitement flooded his body and he ran to Alfred to tell him his new discovery.

A funny thing happened.

The man was an ordinary one. Mediocre in every aspect. He was boring and uninteresting. He was the kind of person that you cant write a story about. But his friend was rather interesting and worth writing about. The man`s friend was imaginative, clever and interesting things happened to him.

While walking down the park he noticed a Cat. The Cat`s name was Mr. Cat. The cat was a female. Mr Cat wanted to have the man`s friend as a pet. The man`s friend was quite OK about being her pet. But he just had one problem. The man`s friend did not want to be potty trained. Mr. Cat could not agree to this. She thought that this would diminish her image and reduce her reputation in the society. So she insisted that the man`s friend be potty trained. But the man`s friend did not agree with this. He thought that this would impinge and encroach on his freedom. He wanted his space, that guy. Being potty untrained made him feel liberated.

Thus the deal could not be carried out and the merger could not be concluded between Mr. Cat and the man`s friend. The man`s friend stoically carried on with his journey. He reached his home. There, his wife hugged him and gave him a gift. It was a brand new leash. The man`s friend said "Woof Woof" and happily licked his wife`s face.