In This Fog

The fog descended on the city like something alive and writhing. In less than a minute, it entered the houses and all the other buildings no matter how tight you had closed the windows and doors. The fog found a way in through the walls.

Then people started to disappear. In the blinding white, people just went away like bad dreams on a Sunday morning. No one knows where they went. But they never came back. Only a few of us remain. Blinded by the fog. Someday I'm not sure if others are there. I think I hear them. Yes, I do. I can't be the only one left alive? Right? You're here too. With me. In this fog.

They Lie To Us

Mom says humans are just a figment of our imagination. There is nothing called human and these structures we live in grew out of the ground.
Dad says animals never existed on Blue One (because 85% of the planet is water, duh) . The pictures we sometimes see are just products of over active imagination of our ancestors.
But my sister and I know that our parents lie to us. Humans and animals did exist. Once upon a time. We've seen the dreams. The same dreams, where everything burns from the fire that rises from the ground. Humans did exist, now they don't. We just float in these structures left by them. Looking for more proof that humans existed.

We found a charred human heart today.

The Dentist

While people talk to me, I religiously notice the imperfections in their teeth. 

I should've been a dentist.

And I guess I am. 

In a way. 

The imperfect teeth I've collected whisper this to me.

--------

fin.

The Growth

The keyboard balanced perfectly on his beer belly. He also had a can of diet soda and a small pack of French fries placed there. His was a big tummy.

He smoothed back his greasy hair with a practiced sweep of left palm and set his fingers on the home keys of his keyboard. A discarded packet of chips moved by itself on the floor, probably a rat, but that didn't disturb our hero's concentration.

He scrunched up his face into a most hideous expression that he fancied as his war face, but which made him look like a constipated baboon.

"It's time to rock n roll!!" he yelled at the computer which whirred it's fan in a pathetic response.

And with that a humble coder began another nightlong marathon of gaming, coding and growing himself to death.

The Stench

The family was huddled together in the back of the small truck. Father, mother and three children with large eyes that stared way beyond you. Into you.

Sometimes people stared back at them. Most of the people could never look back at them. The stench of poverty made them shiver deep inside.

......

Fin.

Magic Dave

The less said about Magic Dave the better. There was nothing magical about Dave, but the word had stuck to him after an unfortunate incident with a tiger, an oil tanker and a dinosaur skeleton. Dave was a big part of the incident. No one talked about it in Dave's company.
It was the proverbial elephant in the room. Magic Dave's life reached a turnaround when he met a real life magician at a fair. He became the magician's apprentice. As they traveled from town to town, performing magic and earning pennies, Dave felt he had a smidgen of talent and he went in search of a princess because that was the kind of thing that magicians were supposed to do. Or maybe it was princes. Dave was not known for clear thinking.
When he reached the tower that held the princess captive. He tried to fight the dragon with the magic that he learned at the fair.
The dragon roasted Magic Dave to cinders.
This is what happens when you're stupid.
..........
Fin. If you liked reading it, please use the buttons below to retweet or share on facebook. Thanks! Another story tomorrow.

Distraction

The chopper hovered like a dragonfly outside the 44th floor apartment window of Marcus Towers. It's gun turrets were pointed like ugly barbs at the window. The pilot sighted the men inside the apartment on his infrared sensor but he couldn't get a clear shot. They were hiding behind the large granite kitchen table.

"Do you think we'll get out of this alive?" one man asked the other over the defeaning sound of the chopper.

"I think we'll die here, like the dogs that we are."

"At least dogs have better lives." the first man spat on the carpeted floor.

"There is a way out," the second man said.

"What?"

"We can take that cat hostage."

Right on cue, an orange colored tabby walked by the two men, ignoring them, the chopper and the tension filled in the room.

The first men picked up the cat by the scruff of its neck.

"They will never let us kill a cat. Everyone loves cats."

The second man gave him a thumb up.

The cat meowed it's displeasure.

In the chopper the pilot patted the scratches left on his face by his cat. He hated the fucking animal.
.........

Fin.

Smoke Screen

The audience gasped as the dancers circuited each other on the stage. Their elaborate costumes trailed their path, always close but never touching. The lights followed their paths around the stage like aroused lovers.

Then the girl was suddenly whisked up in the air by invisible strings. The boy danced around the stage, alone and confused. A lilting tune from a sad violin filled the atmosphere. Smoke from above descended in a thick cloud over the stage.

A hand thudded at the boy's feet. It's fingernails were painted a deep red. A leg and arm followed. And, finally a head fell on the stage with the splat of a rotten vegetable.

As the audience scattered in a fit of screams and hysteria, the boy slowly whispered to himself, "This was not in the script..."
.................
Finish.

More tomorrow.

The shape of things to come...

Hey all, as most of you know, I bought a new phone. Sony Ericsson Xperia mini pro. It has a keyboard and I just downloaded the blogger app on it.

Expect more of me here.

More stories. Yes. October is going to be a big month. I'm planning something supermassive. I tried it in short format earlier but this time, I'm taking it all the way.

What is it, you ask, well October is not far away...

The Biggest Knife :: Short Story

She always had a fascination with knives. There were all kinds of knives in her school bag. There were thin bladed scalpels, curved bladed carving knives, a knife with a hooked  blade, one with a serrated edge and a big hunter knife that was carefully sewn into the should strap of the bag. She didn't let anyone touch her bag, but it was an open secret in the class that the knife girl was insane and everyone sat away from her in the lectures.

She was 12. There was no reason for her come to school but still she did. There were things that hunted anything human in her world. So, she had to be prepared.

There was no guarantee when she left for school if she would reach her class in one piece. While the other kids had guns and laser blasters for their protection but her parents were poor. They barely afforded knives. She bought these by selling drugs to the children in her class. Uppers and downers. Skeezers and wooshers. They wanted it, she had it.

A classmate once asked her why she didn't carry a gun like other kids. She said that guns run out of charge, knives don't run out of sharp.

Once  on her way back from school, she once killed a small bear with her hunting knife. She was high on the drugs she had cooked herself in morning. The bear didn't stand a chance. She dragged the carcass home and made bear soup for her family at dinner.

Still, she went to school everyday. She learned. She sat in the library and read the few books they had. She developed her creativity. 

She knew that knowledge was the biggest knife in her bag.

---

Yeah, let's try this short story thing again.

It's Easy to Be An Asshole Online

It's very easy to be an asshole in the virtual world. I know. I've been that asshole many times. I've "fought" with people, I've argued with complete intention of embarrassing and showing down the other person, I've picked unnecessary squabbles with people, I've irritated and instigated, I've poked fun at people who were in trouble or in pain. I've done all that. And I am OK with that. The people on the other end also seem ok with that because they never retaliated hard enough. Which is a shitty reason.

Let me give you an example of asshole behavior. Suppose, I see you walking towards me in a mall and instead of stepping aside and letting you pass, I push you back. You can now either turn back or try to walk by me again. But I will push you again. I will push you till you turn back. If you want to pass, then you have to push me back. Or, you can punch me in the face till I give up and let you pass. 

Practicing peace in the face of violence will only get you beaten. Either hit back, or go home.

Come back to the online world now. 

What we face/practice in the online world is a kind of emotional violence. This is the ugly side of online interaction. The jokes we make on others are on the expense of their pain. Which is the point of every joke, but the lines are blurred in the online world. Now, why would causing hurt/discomfort to others make you feel good? Because it emphasizes the alpha dog instinct in you. It makes you feel powerful. Gives you a fake and fleeting sense of confidence that you're some how more clever and better than the other person.

Let's take another example. The Grammar nazis. If someone's grammar error bothers you so much that you will compose a tweet and then append the hashtag and go through the trouble of posting it, why the fuck don't you DM that person to tell them the correct grammar usage? Hell, write an essay about grammar usage and email it to them if it bothers you so much. But why embarrass another person in public? Because it's easy? Because it's fun? Because you can pass it as a fucking joke? "Haha, I was just kidding man, take it easy. No offence intended!" No, it's because you're sitting comfortably in front of your computer or with your phone in your hand and the person on the other end won't smash your face in with a brick. That's fucking why.

Because, oh, it's so easy to be an asshole online, while being nice to people will make your shit stop in your gut and probably kill you.

You want to make a joke, make a joke. It's fun the first time, the second or the third time, but when you're after people's lives like a monkey fed on cocaine with a mobile phone in its hand, then there will be feedback. There will be retaliation. You will find someone waiting for you around a corner with a brick in his hand and hate in his heart. What you find funny will definitely not be funny to other people, specially when they are at the receiving end of the joke, for about a 100th time.

To sum up, try not being an asshole for a change. 

--------------

This post has a contradiction. Maybe two. Can you spot them?

;)

Writhing In The Bullshit Called Future - Essay

Life was simple when I was a kid. There were limited number of friends, those I knew in school or in my street. Maybe some kids I knew because they were children of friends of my parents. It was simple. There were landline phones, if you didn't want to talk to anyone you could just ask your folks or siblings to tell them that you were not home. We wrote letters. On paper, with pen. I had a collection of ink pens. Some pen friends too. Ink pens were an adventure. When I was in 5th grade, getting an ink pen was a feeling that I had finally arrived.

Then, in about year 2000, I found the internet. I made my first blog in 2003. What was I doing online in these 3 years, well, there was yahoo chat, some MIRC, and emails, and god knows what else, yahoo groups? Memory is hazy. It was then I got to know that, yeah, there are other people in the world who think like me, listen to same music, read same authors, have similar irritants, and are interested in talking to me about all the stuff that I couldn't talk to anyone about. 

Those were the good times. Because the internet in its infancy was simpler, uglier, and slightly more manageable. This was partially because the only way to access the net was from a cybercafe at 60 rupees an hour. The speeds were slow and you had to wait for everything. It was a lesson in patience too. Good times, as I said.

Now, I have internet in my phone and its virtually free.

I used to dream of this shit. To have the fucking internet in my pocket. But now that it's here, the dream comes with its own set of nightmares. Suddenly, we are overloaded with information. Being connected means that there is a constant onslaught of information that may or may not add to the quality of our life. We have to pick and choose the information that we like from the quagmire of useless bullshit that is thrown our way. 

The alternative is to disconnect from the net completely, but then you will definitely miss out on the stuff you want to see. It's a strange situation. We're facing an internet overload or information overload. There is no escape because we're all deep in it till our noses. And most of us don't even realize it because it is US, who are adding to the bullshit. We're writhing in it.

And that's all there is. 

Interrogation of A Sunkey Monkey!

Lookie! 

I found the owner/editor of the Indian humor website sinking in the deep pits of twitter and before I rescued him from imminent doom and death by crocodiles, i decided to interrogate him about his involvement with a humor website. He answered these questions which are now displayed here for your viewing pleasure. If you didn't realize by now what Sunkey is, well, it is a satire website run by elves, unicorns and few determined individuals who live on maggi meals and listen to Coldplay on repeat. Go to Sunkey and read the stuff they are writing. Send them some hate mail so that they feel loved. They didn't pay me anything for this interview, but they have offered beer and pizza when I reach their underground cave with a Molotov cocktail. Here are the questions!

Q1. Satire is a dicey area. How do you decide which news to dismantle and which to leave? 

 Generally we choose news which influences most of our target audience which is Indian people who reads and understands satire.Than we work on it and if it meets our requirement we post it.
 
Q2. How tough is to maintain a website in online sphere where attention of audience is a valuable commodity? What are the difficulties you've faced that will discourage newcomers in the market and effectively curb any competition.

Maintaining a website or blog comes down to one important factor that is Content. If you are writing original content while keeping in mind what your audience wants, then things go easy. We didn't face any difficulties because we worked by planning things then testing, and if they go well then by executing it. Making decent money and keeping blog safe are major issues we are facing these days.
 
Q3. Hate mail is the effective sign that you've finally arrived. Have you received any yet? Or have any social workers landed up at your offices with effigies and torches?

Nothing yet. Still waiting for MNS to write about us in Saamna. 
 
Q4. Real world gets weirder day by day. Most of the news reads like fiction, I read about this woman who died after injecting hot beef in her face. Do you think lines are blurring between comedy and reality?

I don't think so. News like these comes once in a while. Though I know there are weird people and weird things going around but they still are very limited.  
 
Q5. What is your aim by writing satire pieces? Making money, passing time or bringing a change in society?
 
Its making money by making people laugh as well as making them realise what's really going on around 
 
Q6. What is your favourite satire piece from your website?

My  favourite article from Sunkey these days is this one http://sunkey.co.in/2011/09/parliament-adds-third-house-lok-sabha-rajya-sabha-and-tihar-jail/
 
Q7. Well, since this is an interview thing. Where is the website going to be in 5 years from now?

One decently ranked Indian Humour Blog with good number of audience. Its hard to predict long term when it comes to online business because of changes happening now and then.

----FIN--

Got website? Doing something amazing? Need to reach out to more people? Hit me up at my email address given on the blog and I'll interrogate you on coming Saturday!

How Your Brain Plays Tricks On You -- Essay

Your brain can be your best friend and your worst enemy. And in both cases, the benefit is yours, if you know when the brain in playing which role. This is difficult to understand, but we'll try. You and me. Because as much as I am trying to explain, I am also trying to understand the mechanization of the our brain.

There is a lizard brain and there is a monkey brain. It is the same organ, but it differs its roles in accordance to the situation. For example, right now, as I am writing this, my brain told me to open another tab and see which movies are playing in the theaters tonight so that I can go and catch a show tonight. But I am still writing. Here, the two roles of my brain have crossed each other and I have taken the painful (if you call writing this painful, maybe difficult) path over the path of instant gratification.

Instant gratification and delayed gratification are interesting concepts that we have to understand. If, say, you eat an ice cream right now and you stop feeling the "need" to eat an ice cream, then that's instant gratification. But if you keep telling yourself that you'll eat ice cream only on a Sunday, that's delayed gratification. The more you delay it, the more fun it is. But at times, you need instant gratification too. The catch is knowing when to get what.

The best way to save yourself from the string pulling by your brain is to take a third person perspective on yourself. If you're studying and you feel like watching TV. Observe yourself "feeling" that desire to watch TV. 

Give it a 5 minute break. 

Study for five more minutes. Which is just like staying in bed for five more minutes, the desire to wake up vanishes in those 5 minutes. The same way goes with most of the desires of the brain. Another example, I want to buy a phone, but I know that the one I have right now is working perfectly for me and there is no actual need to buy a new phone, but i still WANT it. So, i put the phone on a 30 day time frame. If I still want it after 30 days I will buy it. There might be new phones in that 30 day period and the phone's price might fall. I might find some better use for my money and I might even run out of money by the end of the 30 day period.

You have to judge what's important and how you're going to spend your time/money/attention doing and getting what's important. Yup. That's about it.

Edit : for the funnies, check this meme about brain --> HERE
Thanks to @peanutbut for suggesting the link :)

Wrap up

A day late. But fuck it. I wrote for 31 days straight. I needed some time out from writing. But here I am again. So hah!

Anyway, about the August Arc, as I called it in my head. And maybe in your head too. While you kept getting the story every day before 0000 hrs, without fail. There was a lot going on my side. Always remember one thing, what goes on behind the scenes is always much more interesting than what you see on the screen. So, what really happened while writing this story was that I wrote some first 8-10 chapters in one go. After that, i had some traveling to do and I fell behind on the writing part, cuz hey, no laptop, no writing! Or no typing it and sending it to the blog at least. I still managed to post through drafts kept in my phone, but that fucked up the formatting and I take the formatting very seriously, that's half the fun of the story. 

So, traveling put me behind schedule. Then the people in office gave me some really tight deadlines and I had to fight them off. Then, there were other things, some dragons, sharks, hordes of female fans camping outside my house. You know, adventurous life of bloggers. Stuff. There were power cuts and races to see whether I'll be able to post before the battery of laptop runs out or before I drown in my own sweat. Dangerous and exciting! It's like the life of James Bond. In reverse.

Anyway, the story is like a living wild animal. It's like riding a tiger. If you don't give it direction, it will go in whatever direction you point it every 24 hours, but if you don't point it in a direction, it will probably eat you. It's painful, really. I'd not suggest anyone to take up writing seriously. You can write 1500 words of what you think is awesome prose and anyone with a basic knowledge of  language can point out a spelling mistake. It's like a nail in the foot. Painful and unnecessary. 

Zed's story is done for now. I'll write about him again. For sure. I don't know when. About the end, well, no story ever really ends. Because if it ends, then what's the fun of reading the story? 

Next, a secret plan. I am working on it with some people. Hopefully, I'll share it here. Fingers crossed. 

On the blog, I'll post semi-regularly. October will be a month of regular short stories. In November, I have to take part in NaNoWriMo. I did that last year, finished it. This year, I'll try to do better. 

Yeah, so that's about it. If there are any questions, hate mail, anything else, find out how to contact me. Email, twitter, the chatbox in sidebar. Connect.

And as always, thanks for reading. I do this for you, dear reader, no one else.

Till next time, then.

Ta. I have to handle this horde of babes.

Pallav