V3777TU Part 2

Bought this expensive machine which was beyond my means. Of course, lot of good-hearted souls chipped in. But one should cut ones coat according to ones cloth. today, i sold it off.

blue baloon

blue baloon is blue in colur. he is filled with gas, so he's not hungry at the moment. his presence hangs by a white thread, let it slip out of your hand and he slips out for good into the sky. he camoflages with the blue sky and it gets impossible to track him from then on. he soars deep into the sky till he's tired of all this floating aroung, being shoved ruthlessly by gusts of wind here and there. he finally decides to take life easy. deflates himself. finds a patch of land or an crooked branch to hang from. no one exactly knows his resting place. no one so far can claim to have caught a baloon after it has taken flight. it probably goes to a mystical land where no humans have set foot. there you can find (if you find the place) baloons of varied colours and sizes scattered all over the place. they talk often and bump into one another and move one. finally they breath their last. they loose their air never to dare fly high again. blue ballon meets a similar fate, until he was discoved by an acheologist 20 feet under. his skin still elastic and vibrant. he tries to hold on to the gound but he's is finally yanked out, leaving shards of blue still loyal to the grip. his mortal remains are not put up in the museum but thrown away carelessly.

coo

the bird flew over the tall building and pearched on another. it spat in disgust and left it's droppings out of anguish. its been flying for quite sometime hoping to find a nice little branch to sit on and have a birds eye view of the place, watch other birds take flight and meet some colourful ones. then probably set things rolling and from a close alliance with a beauty. but what greets him is black smoke spewing out from big boxes, some wierd looking creature with ears and no feathers housed inside glass walls, rectangular-shaped creatures that kept on moving and blared out loud for no rhyme or reason. it was angry because all these strange creatures has encroached upon their land. what used to be trees and green fields was replaced by ungly looking structures where the uglier looking creatures inhabited. something had to be done about it. it sat in conference (in a row) with his comrades, working out what is to be done to stop this menace. suddenly a spark of light buzzed out of nowhere, elocuting all of them at one go. all that remained of the meeting was a few ruffled feathers.

V3777TU

Bought an expensive machine. an assemble of people helped me in the mega purchase. 1 car owner who drove me to the point of purchse, 3 overzealous financers, 2 moral supporters, 1 technical adviser and 1 purchaser. entire pack drove off to a place named galleria where the objective lay somehwere proudly enconsed. it plays hard to get but throw enough money and the stuck up bastard will fall in your arms. we checked out a couple of models. some a little on the expensive side and some failed to live up to our expectation. finally the group barged in a shop on the second floor and found one named v3777tu. we like the model which was threatning to go out-of-stock. it was the last piece in the shop. it was quiet a looker and we paid for the MRP, after some smart haggling, in three different modes. part my credit card used to the last dreg, part debit car not used to the last dreg and cash that flew from one of the overzealous financers pocket. finally we took possession and went our way.

Mornings

Someone playing the song "Can you feel the love tonight", from Lion King early morning. Am at my workstation, trying to think of the next best thing to do. Two people are catching up with their sleep. One on the floor. One on the chair. Apparently one bought a car and the other knows how to drive. He also knows how to ride a bike. Which he does early morning to the other's place and drives the car to reach office before time. Before anyone has dared to step in. I catch them napping. Not a very bright begenning to the day. More people have poured in and woken up the sleeping couples. The place has become somewhat too noisy to continue with the narration. Some hysterical laughs here and there and loud voices breaking the otherwise tranquil morning. It's almost impossible to continue now. Got rid of one by asking for a cup of tea. Had one cup already. Before he was gone he's back. One song kept on the loop, playing repeatedly on my mind as well. Before the day ends I am going to go off my rocker.

relativity

Time and again something pops up and forces the issue. Like when I had made myself cozy in the bed with a book and a hot cup of coffee for distraction. The time table was getting annoyed and was threatening redundancy any moment. Hours turned directly into years and the calendar resting on the table didn’t know what to do. Out of boredom it started repeating itself. Month after month till it lost count too. The book refused to end, the story hadn’t even unfolded and the author was still elaborating on the preface. Of course the pages had turned brittle and yellow. Some hundred thousand pages later, the book’s first chapter starts. But it was one hell of an effort to lift that amount of pages to reach that stage. It was getting easier, as one progressed, to lose interest in the book even before the characters took shape. The story goes something like this; someone had started writing this book on some BC. Till date no one knows who the person is. Generation after generation had been penning down to make a book out of it, complete with paperbacks. It’s believed that soon after someone is born into a family, he/she started writing taking only the necessary breaks in between. The end result being, the book devoured some dozen generations and a two storied apartment.

king's arms

a particular woman once stepped out of her house and came back with a cub. she must have wandered into the jungle or the cub must have wandered into the city. that's irrelevant considering what happened afterwards. she fed him and he didn't eat her. she took care of the animal as if it was her pet. which it was. and in no time the cub grew into a lion with a mane and everything it's supposed to have. she was of limited means and it outgrew her. she was getting a measure of what it takes to have a lion loitering in your yard. soon, she took him to the zoo or made the zoo authorities come and pick him up as he was too heavy for her to carry him around. quiet sometime had passed since when she finally decided to pay him a visit. and miraculously the lion recognised her. she stepped near the cage as if it had her pet dog. the lion stood up on its hind legs and rested the forearms arms on her shoulder draged her close to the bars and hugged her. the lion closed his eyes and was happy to let her head rest on his chest. it one didn't know what a lion looked like, the whole moment could have easily passed off as two living beings in love embracing each other. it was love and compassion. yes she was in the lions arms and i saw it with my very own eyes.

days

people are talking about things that's not making any sense to the person next door which is some miles away . absolute gibberish. ther's a lot of commotion for absolutely nothing at all. some, out of lack of any audiance, are inflicting pain on themselves by pulling one's own hair and plucking scabbed wounds, to find a reason to scream. everyone is lost in the din. they have too much to say within too little a time span. Time is warped. The clock is ticking too fast to let the moment pass quickly. Oblivious to the fact that impending moment will be no different. tongues are going out of control and are all over the place slapping, flapping and twirling like a derelict.

Type type type type type type type type type type type type….is the number of times I can type.

It’s all staged.

I was standing in front of a mouth piece. Or rather the mouth piece was standing in front of me, expecting me to take the first step. I hesitated. May be I hesitated a little too long, for hours had passed, without any change in the status quo. For some strange reason the audience was getting impatient. And were beginning to mutter their annoyance, which was growing with every second. I was feeling uneasy, but no clue what got into them. Even the mike, as if emboldened by the developments, was beginning to squeal and wail. I tapped it a couple of times to make it behave. I started tapping the audience as well to make them stop. But this seemed to aggravate the matter. I soon realised the genetic structure between the two are different and hence they would react differently to different stimulations. To change things, I started pinching. Things did change. People started jumping on their seats but one particular gentleman was upset over the whole proceedings as the ladies on the immediate front row started throwing their palms at his face. Possessive husband were sacrificing their posterior for their wives. Some unscrupulous people among the audience took it rather too literally. They pinched people off their hats, wallets, hankies, clips, underwear, socks, ties, cufflinks, combs, matchboxes and things. I thought the people were enjoying themselves. It didn’t really matter I was standing there, totally ignored.

A big bore.

A big boar came running towards me at speed close to the speed of light. I gave it a slip and went to sleep. Because of its mind-boggling speed, by the time the thick head realised it had missed the target it was light years away from me. But again considering the speed the damn thing had managed to gather it took him only a couple of minutes to reach within striking distance. Since, I have read somewhere, if something with mass ever managed to imitate the speed the light, it would turn into energy. And if the author of the book had any credibility, it should stop existing and therefore cease to be of any considerable threat to me. But the author of the book forgot to add that that thing has to be reminded that it was time he turned into energy or he stop speeding. So the wild bore chase is still on.

Well! well!

Have you realized you are wasting away? Doesn’t matter even if you travel from point A to point B only in a chauffer driven Merc. Never mind if you have an unscrupulous account in a Swiss bank or you’re a close friend of Bill Gates. Even your Armani jacket, crocodile skin shoes or shawl made of dinosaur skin (can’t say how you’ll get one though) can’t stop it. Or for that matter your picture on the cover of Times Magazine. Please rush to a store immediately, pick up a pack of tortillas and a good book to read. That’ll still keep the clock ticking but at least when the moment comes you’ll be busy reading a book with tortillas in between.