Sunday, February 26, 2017

The Covariation model





Day before yesterday. 6 pm.

The little bird wanted to cross the road; not because it was ingrained in its DNA. It wanted to, because the grass on the other side was greener and green grass signified live worms. Or whatever lived underneath it. So, the little bird crossed the road.

Almost.

The dogs were already there and were bored. They were not there for the worms. They were there because that’s where they could be what they wanted to be. They could walk on two legs; growl at the kids or raise one leg and shower the bushes. Today they wanted to do something else. That’s when they spotted the little bird. “She is asking for trouble wearing that red crown on her head”, said Dick, the short tailed one. “She is singing to herself. Must be a slut”, muttered Poke, the one-eyed dog. “She is alone”, grunted Stinky, the smallest of the group. 

The proud faces of their forefathers who had troubled a lot of birds since the beginning of time flashed through their mind. “I am a mongrel. This is cool. Here I come”, cried Stinky.

The little bird had almost reached the other side when it saw the bush, some movement and the dogs exactly in the same order. Before she could say “cluck”, Stinky pounced on her. She shrieked, feathers flew in all directions, and traffic stopped on the road.

Four plump ducks in a car, slammed on the breaks and looked out. Eyes opened wide, beaks opened wider. A teenage peacock with a large mobile phone aimed its lens at the scene in a trance. A portly bull coming back from work, stopped, looked at the scene, looked back at his watch and broke into a jog, in the same direction his horns pointed. A mentally unstable chimp begging alms, threw his coins away and darted towards the scene.

More cars stopped on the road and there were faces in the windows. Some seemed shocked, some were amused, some were impatient. Few broke into a jog and sped off after the bull. The brown fox selling popcorn on the street side, smacked its lips in anticipation of a walk-in crowd.

The chimp raked a hand across Stinky’s face. Poke and Dick froze to their ground; then took off like they had seen a ghost. Stinky fought back for a second; then ran after his friends. The little bird picked herself up and covered her face. She started to sob. The chimp asked awkwardly, “Got a dollar?” The little bird fainted. 

There were more mobile phones pointed in the general direction of the scene.

Yesterday. 6 pm

The television channels had expert panels discussing the story of the little bird. The psychology professor from Harvard, a tusker who had seen the industrial revolution first hand, explained the Covariation model of social behavior. The popular actress who had just returned from the Swiss Alps observed that “such things do not happen there”. The priest with long feathers and a Rolex around his thick rhino neck reminded everyone that “the dogs always go after the bone; the bone has to be careful”.

“Creatures for a cause” sat on the road and blocked traffic, blaming the government who had had a bad history in dealing with hapless birds. A minister who used an allegory that sounded like “dumb chick” and apologized on national television, shook his mane and said he forgot what he said earlier.

Today. 6 pm.

Stinky's parents had called for a press meet. They held up copies of his certificates he had earned while in college to all present. He was “Head boy” in high school and won the high jump at the inter university meet. His mother said he was always a sweetheart. His father appeared heartbroken; had quit his job abroad and came back to console his family during this time of distress. Dick and Poke were not to be found. The Police had gone to the neighboring state to look for them.

The “Youth Wings” put a bus on fire on the highway and demanded that “chivalry” should be taught as a mandatory subject in the primary classes. The Facebook campaign started by “Wings of hope” taglined #crosstheroad got 2 million followers. “Neuter the mutt”, the rap song performed by the band “Moo it” had gone viral in just one day.

I am a responsible citizen and I am above all this madness, this pettiness. I shall continue to be non-biased and nonjudgmental. I intend to continue to write and bring the world’s attention to this unfortunate incident. I will change this planet one page at a time.

Tomorrow I will be writing about “How to nail spaghetti to a darting dog’s posterior”.

Keep watching this space, fellow creatures!







Saturday, June 22, 2013

Birds and bees (originally written on May 13, 2010)

Bird: you are indeed a fast bee!

Bee: Well..gotta be one when chased by birds all the time!

Bird: I am not chasing anyone.I just ...happen to have big wings.

Bee: Every bird I meet says he has a big one. Tell me some thing new.

Bird: Like what?

Bee: Dude; dont u know anything that might impress a bee?

Bird: Ok...well..I read Paulo Coelho.

Bee: Oh yeah; when you so badly need a bee, the whole world will conspire to have a bee hive delivered 
to your nest.

Bird: Oh that reminds. I have a nest on the marina. Isn't that impressive?

Bee: Now we are talking! So..

Bird: May be I shoukdn't ask if its your place or mine...?

Bee: You are sooo naive. Anyways....marina its is.

Bird: Lets ride!

.......................

(kissing sounds)

Bird: Hmmm that was nice 

Bee:Really?

Bird: hmmmm

(more kissing sounds)

Bird: Can I just...eat you?

Bee: You naughty!!

(more sounds)

Bird: mmmmm (lights a cigarette)

Bee:.................

Bird: Ooops...sorry!! (burp)

Bee:Bastard! you actually ate ate everything except by head! I am gonna die soon!

Bird:I am really sorry :( Guess I was hungry!!

Bee: I thought you were horny :(

Bird: I mean...are you gonna die?..really?

Bee: Seen any bee flyin around with no wings, no body..you moron?

Bird: awww

Bee: See you in hell.

( Scene fades. Cutting crew sings " I just died in your arms tonight" in the background)

Princess, Dragon, Knight. (originally written on March 7, 2010)


I am here standing between the creature and you. I play the knight tonight. 
What r u tonight?


Me? I play the damsel of uncertainty. Strong but unsure. Fun but morose. Ready but cynical.
I am the power on a leash.



That is no good. It sounds nothing like the story I've heard when I was a kid. 
Aren't u supposed to thank me now? kiss me now? Ive heard such stories a lot!



Well..you choose to hear the stories u like or u choose to remember the endings that appeal to you. 
I am sure that u never heard the one where the Princess slayed a dragon.
Stereotypes, lame plots, dull endings. Times have changes , Sire!


I am no dull ending anyways. I am the hero in all my stories. 
I refuse to destroy the hero's stereotypes.
Are u coming?



I refuse to be rescued. I can do it myself. I can rescue u for a change!



Alright, Then carry me over the burning bridge.
U think i wud b heavy? 
But again..how about the kiss?

.....................................
.....................................
.....................................

hmm....that was..nice!



u think so?



yes. Am I heavy?


never!

El Matador (originally written on Feb 10, 2010)


The eyes meeting from 20 feet away and the wind waiting for some one to move. The last of the tiny dust swirl settles down in its seat to watch.

I peer from under the shade of my montera. A sharp blade hidden in the red mutela's folds. An impatient hoof kicks up enough dust betraying the animal's intention.

Between us is the decision.To play, fight, flirt, or to retrace a few steps.
Between us is the distance. To cover on quick feet or to measure and stay vigil.

But first blood has already been drawn.Regardless of the spectators, the "tanda" begins. The game is on.

There is no hunter.No hunted. The roles aren't defined.

I flourish the cape and meet the beast half way through..... 

A love KNOTe (originally written on April 23, 2010)

It all started when she threw a sheep at me.I threw a jack-fruit back. Oh wait..I guess that wasn't available. Think it was a brick.

Then appeared a real prick; Sean. He claimed he was the fist one to poke her. And the first poke is always special. To make matters worse, he had an army of 11000 vampires waiting to suck on anyone's virtual neck. In fact the whole scene sucked...for me.

I can't stand him. He may not be as stupid as the God fearing Georgie who copy pasted the entire old testament sentence by sentence and covered my whole bloody homepage for 2 weeks in a row. But Sean is Bad. He married 5,divorced 4 and is still single. He has poked 3469 women and men of all ages and is still counting, poking and throwing assorted objects. Yesterday his status said "I am farting in the pool". I am sure that it had been a highly useful piece of information and saved the lives of a last few sea turtles facing extinction because of deep sea divers with flatulence.

Linda posted a pic of her at a bbq with friends and tagged me on a dumpster in the background. I admired her sense of humour through my tears and also felt strangely happy for being a part of her life as a humble inanimate object. But Sean took offence and raided my mafia property and looted it dry. He also didn't forget to gift a baby elephant to her and adopted her homeless grasshopper with a hopping disability. Conniving pest.

Did you know that Sean created a fan club for himself and he is a fan of himself! He even invited me to be his fan!! How the f*ck is that possible you f*ckin moron? Would you also invite me to your own funeral and cry over my shoulder on your untimely death by an overdose of poking? And what exactly is your talent, genius? Clicking photos of your miserable face in the john and posting them online to scare kids?

And I cant believe that you "wanted to smear labneh" on Lily! She is only 13, you perve! Didn't her parents have a restraining order on you ever since you invited her grandma to your "Pizza for sex" group? Plus..you want to know the truth? YOU are the smear...on everyone's face(book).And soon the entire mouse wielding world is gonna wash its face off you. Get ready to get super poked up your a***

And my sweat heart Linda..you social butterfly, I have a request. I may have this huge crush on you and will keep all those lollipops and hairpins (?) you gifted me till eternity. But please stop telling me that Amora the "jobless" love psychic predicted that I, out of adoration and in an uncontrollable love driven stupor, would be gifting you a Cadillac, a diamond and a villa by the seaside! You know that Anita the online menace, Amora's step sister from her Dad's shotgun marriage said something similar and is not very popular these days.And for your info, I just paid for this online session from a net-cafe in coins.

I know that I am losing this battle. By the time I think of a good enough retort to any insult Sean posts online and find enough money to pay the net-cafe  he would have fired a second nastier one. And why? 1348: Black Plague. 2002:BlackBerry. 

Oh..and here's the latest update from Sean. He joined his 12456th community. It is called "Show your underwear, dude". Oh yes..you are right... those retards who think that their knickers should be seen. For guys like Sean, it works. It takes your attention away from his unfortunate face.

Watch out for my next post, hun.I just got a link to a video of Sean. Him torturing 2 hamsters with a lit cigarette. Its on its way to PETA and the rest of the world.Just a note: the skinny hand that's handing over the ciggy looks a bit like mine. Well..I am not the only skinny guy with a hand.

Linda, the only thing that worries me is that I have never seen you in person. You have a pretty profile pic. But there aren't too many pics on your profile and some of them look a lil different from each other  I hope you are not some 70 something hag with dentures and dementia like the "chick" I bumped into on Sorority. If you are, I would be very unhappy. And happy too...for Sean.

Love you Linda. I love Facebook too. It is the only place where I can talk to a wall and not look like an idiot.

Yours to poke for ever...ME.

Sandstorm (originally written on Feb 27, 2010)


Brown, blind fingers of wind and sand reached out, scooped up and threw the leaves in an upward spiral
and celebrated the end of winter, a frail girl who woke up late and saw a sneering sun waiting to collect her rent.

She walked out into the swirling sand and covered her dewey eyes... but the wind lashed at her in disdain and mocked, "Does it hurt?"

Winter pulled her tattered dress around her and looked back at her house where the grass was turning yellow and the rosebuds drooped and dropped.

Then, forelone, she walked right into the sandstorm and disappeared.

The Covariation model