Some women suck brains out with a syringe OR Zzzgk!

No, no, they do! You see they're the ones who're a little pretty, flaky, carry themselves off like prom queens in a scary movie and talk with an accent that's a brilliant blend of about twenty thousand accents. Now, this is a story about my encounters and how my brains were collected in a jar which I never saw.

You see, I was out with this female friend once and she was quite pretty. She had a quacky voice which scares you so much. This piece is also a direct reflection of what I felt in that process which of course I don't exactly remember because whatever bit of my brain regenerated, it has been placing together the memory cells and deducing the occuring of events. These are the brain cells which ran for their life and stuck to the walls of my cranium.

You see, the theory is such that these women have been endowed with these syringes which they carry in their handbags. Their needles are extremely sharp and their diameters are measured in microns. The women practice swift hand movements while they're talking animatedly and zzzgk! There goes a part of your brain. Now the first incident is with this particularly talented female, talented at the art of sucking your brains with syringe said, "There's something in your hair..." Her finger pulled out a dry yellow tamarind leaf which had fallen on my hair, but by the time I figured it was a leaf, I felt strangely empty in my head.

Since that day, I've been particularly afraid of the sound, zzzgk! You see my fears are not baseless for the sound didn't stop there. I took this really cute chick out once for dinner and she started talking about how she went to buy the perfectly pink sandals for her perfectly pink skirt which she was wearing that day but she figured she had the perfectly white top which she wanted to wear with it so she ended... zzzgk! You see how it works... and by that time, the waiter arrived with a piece of paper in a dish, I said, "I'll consume this dish!" It was the bill.

Since the last six months, every attempt my brain has been making to regenerate... zzzgk!

Coming back to my practicals during college days, at 6 am in the morning, this chick was so well dolled up that I thought she didn't sleep at night. She used to be my lab partner, I turn around and ask her, "Hey, how come you get so much time to glitter your hair, mascara your eyes, choose the perfect colour combinations, the matching set of earrings..." and I just waved my hand gesturing, "all that." She looked at me and said, "You see... Zzzgk!"

So as I was saying, that there was this woman once, who was walking down the street in that perfect shade of green, the one that my heart would go for. I smiled at her and she smiled at me. I went up to her and was thinking of this really awesome line to say but then now I don't remember what that line was because I know I said something clever which she didn't quite understand and before I understood that she didn't understand... zzzgk! Well the story so became that we went dancing that night to find that I couldn't think of anything, not even what I wanted to drink.

Last I heard was that they advanced their technologies to something called digital syringe or probably that was given to officers of higher ranks. I was talking to this woman on phone and well... I'd barely spoken ten words in half an hour of a conversation to feel lighter in the head only to call her again after five minutes. The unbelievable bit is that her high pitched voice really camouflaged the zzzgk on phone.

Ah well, so after coming across a few women like that I realised that the world had to be saved and it was in my hands because I was the only one who realised it. I called up a female friend of mine, one of the intelligent kind and told her about this. She said, "Oh dude! You can't believe it! They do that to me too!"

"What the fuck! This is not just a crisis for the men, it is a crisis for mankind! We have to do something about this!" I climb up my loft and pull out our old clothes bundle which we had decided to give away to this NGO and fished out a white dhoti which my granddad used to wear and he'd nearly worn it out. Tying it around my neck, I said, "This is a job for... Zzzgk!"

Then my friend came over, she had bought a cardboard sword from the hawkers sitting outside shaadis, the one that was covered with silver paper. Yes, we were ready to fight the evil forces. I look at my friend and say, "Did you find the source?"

"These women are not women, they're from the planet Zorg!"

"We can't travel to Zorg! We don't have a spaceship!"

"But we don't need to travel to Zorg! There are two women we have to choose from. One with an orange top and one with a green top!"

"Orange, it must be orange."

Zzzgk!

i can also ramble...

i dont want my house
i dont want my family
i feel guilty for not wanting this because they love me so much
i am responsible abt so many things but i dont want this because its pulling me down. This thought comes into my head at least once in a day and then i sulk like hell for even thinking this
im tired, im fucking tired of anything and everything that's shitty, crappy, sad, bad, unhappy i so wish to just become a recluse and live by myself... having fun starting all over again ground zero
im bored
i dont feel like going to work
im procastinating
im sweaty and stinking
heat's killing
im bored
im dying
im itching to just go and jump off a building
and i want to just go and dive in a gutter stink there and live there
i want to get drunk and puke everything that i've eaten out toss myself around like no ones business cathartic drinking puking all the fucking vile out.

i want to take a big hammer and break down some house, probably mine.
i want to take a gun and go on a killing spree killing every guy i meet on the way
i want to bring down a guy using my fists, punch him, punch him hard and harder till his face looks like a rotten lollipop
i want to kick someone in the ribs so bad so hard that his insides come straight outta his mouth and he dies
kick and kick and kick and kick till every rib comes outta his mouth.
i wanna take a car and run it into every shop which is having it's shutter down and break into it.
i wanna graffiti on the big hoardings that they've put up on every street.
i wanna bomb the bank, burn everyone's money.
i just want someone to hit back at me hard so that i start crying someone to take a revenge against me for all those things i do so that finally i cry and cry and cry and may be die.
im bored
im bored because i dont know what will happen tmrw
im bored because my mind is paranoid about it
im bored because i think too much
im bored because when im bored i think too much ahead in time
im bored because i know im thinking dreams and not a plan
im bored because i REALLY dont want to plan
im bored because why the fuck do i have to think so much ahead
im bored because i think no one really appreciates me...
im bored because im mindfucked
im bored because i want a break
im bored because im sick
im bored because i hate the world
im bored because i hate everyone who lives
im bored because i hate myself too
im just bored.
had fun reading all this?

It was a calm and bright morning (contd. 4)

"Where are we, Cavez?" said our man as we see their legs entwined as lovers and a man in custom's uniform has opened the box at the dock and is staring around. "Who the shit are you white uniformed white boy?"

Whack!

When he came to, he was in a prison. The scotland were investigating his case. They thought these were a bunch of skinheads trying to import themselves into England. But instead of the Nazi swastika why was there a 333 written on their heads? That was a question they'd decided to ask the two men. But then the medical reports said, those weren't tattoos. Those were birthmarks. Hence out of fear of the movie Omen, these two were left free. They were given clothes, similar to the ones they'd worn at the dock. The story so goes that they were the only two survivors, stuck inside a floating box when the ship they were travelling on sank.

Whack!

Those men obviously had read the anime comic that was enclosed in a polythene envelope in the box so that it doesn't get wet. They wake up at the airport. Handcuffed and they really don't know what to do.

"This kinda freaks me out, Cavez."

"Oh, I'm loving this. I've always had a handcuff fetish!"

"This is no time for a joke, Cavez!"

"What else do you expect me to do? You think we can do anything else?!"

"Hmm, you're right. So let's discuss jokes. You heard about the sardar whose wife found him with the neighbour's wife?"

"Who is Sardar?" Cavez asks and our man gets pissed.

"Bah! You cultural snob! Jokes are pointless with you!"

Cavez looks at him and says, "You heard about a nun who walked into a bar?"

"A nun inside a bar, that is not a joke, that's sacrilege!"

Cavez smirked, "SNOB!" and they start kicking each other hard since their hands are handcuffed to the chairs. In the middle of the fight our man asks Cavez, "What's that in your pocket?"

"Hey it's there in your pocket too!"

"What is it?"

They bend a little and pull it out with their teeth from each other's pocket. They tear the envelope together with their teeth like two lovers eating noodles. Meanwhile at the Heathrow airport Elton John passes by, "How romantic and bold!

Not giving a damn about that comment, our friends in overcoats, fedoras and handcuffs open the envelope. They saw air tickets inside each of them. One was a ticket to Mexico and the other was to India.

"Cavez, what if we change the air tickets and pockets?"

"What?"

"I'll go to Mexico."

"NO! That's my home there!"

"At least that way we'll fool them saying that they didn't send us where we had to go. Then we can sue them and may be get the british citizenship for free!"

Whack!

In an unconscious dream our man talks to a talking monkey, "I'm tired of these people wacking me!" I'll kill that Chinese when I see him.

-- i n c o m p l e t e c h a p t e r --
but wanted to post it anyways, so now you've read this :D