LGBT

 Let Go, Blatant Theo-maniacs

Once upon a time, on a busy street, a sharply dressed man walked at brisk, bubbly pace and entered a dry-cleaners. Inside, the shirt had been over-soaked, the pant had been wrongly creased and the coat had eerily puffed up. ‘Never mind’ he said, and left without a frown. ‘What a gay man’, said the owner, who was expecting some drama and was glad on avoiding it.

That time gay meant something entirely different, now it’s a stigmatic issue. While with aggressive penetration (sic), some pragmatic countries have changed their stance from anti to pro, India still remains paranoid and mumbling on whether or not to allow legality to the marriage of similar sex or even a public relation for that matter. No wonder the closet door is wobbling on like a turnstile.

The issue itself is perceived as a disease and an unnatural state of mind and body. But, homosexuality, transgenderism, or any form of varied orientation is not a tumor which can be uprooted or ignored till life threatening circumstances beseech you to act. As usual, the stereotypical homosexuality persona has been blown up ludicrously. If that were the truth, I think of it as a solution to some of the most major problems. The issue of hunger and orphans (especially African and Asian) would tone down at some random intervals, based on when the ‘diet’ is on and Jolie adopts another to the brood. On a larger scale, countries would rather bitch and not call each other, than threaten with nukes & wars; stock markets would sway based on suaveness and trends, rather than supply or demand.

 And domestically, the homosexual homeless person on the corner would be dapper and picky. 

  But then is any stereotype actually true?

 For once, leave all the political foreplay aside and look at the whole setup. Why is such a personal issue used for elections, publicity and protests? Has the acknowledgement on a massive scale somehow puckered up the high and mighty? Next thing you know, popsicles would be banned for auto eroticism.

Today, the shop is still there, another man enters, similarly dressed, finds himself in the similar scheme of things, although this time, everything was done to near perfection. ‘OMG! You over soaked the shirt! Why is the crease all like a cheap Botox? And the coat looks so puffy? You ruined my ensemble. ‘AGH! Gay!’ bellowed the owner behind him, agitated, yet not so surprised by all the drama.

Monday Mournings(sic)

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. And there you are laying on a serene beach in the silvery moonlight, just laying to the ebb and flow of an equally bored ocean with a cocktail in hand, its little wooden umbrella tilting to the breeze.
Continuous knocking and the jaded 7th alarm snooze.
F*ck you Monday
Ever woke up dreading and bickering just because the strip of light from the half covered window fell directly on your face? And when it revealed the mess around, cursed who did that ? Does blaspheme count as praying ?(since it contains the God's name). Yes, the TV is still on, going on tirelessly, like a drugged rat on the wheel of his cage.Now, the explicit trance of sleeping on a cold morning is disrupted mercilessly with an early call of duty ; the lonely cold shower is just a feeble laughable attempt to shed off the last remains of the treasured slumber.
To add to the dismal start, the global markets seem to have tumbled over the weekend, and with the deadline dead set to stay put, a 'Blood' red carpet graces a hostile work environment. Its like the universe has been personally pissed off at a major level. An hour later, dressed and barely fed,a yawn and a beer-burp later, you drag yourself out , greeted by the loud horn from a stupid automobile.
Goodbye savory,succulent sleep.
Hello,corporate slavery.

OH GOD MEN!

'Be simple and patient’, he said as he looked down at the Rolex and shifted uneasily. He had a flight to catch.' Never be in a hurry and avoid praying, god doesn’t count his blessings, you don’t count his praying time', he said half closing his eyes and eying the exit. Barely 50 minutes left for the flight and the driver wasn’t there yet.’ God is always there, with you down the path of life, if you just sit and meditate you will feel him around you, within you, clearly any obstacles you face'. He got up hurriedly as he saw the car arrive, rushing down the aisle, praying that the path to the airport was clear. 

Meet the modern god man. 

Funny how, in a country where poverty is a major issue existing in all parts of the country, people still manage to provide more to the gods than to their own family. 

The tax free trusts are loaded heavier than the national treasury. Isn’t someone who supposedly created everyone and everything, obviously self sustainable and content? Or maybe we blindly follow our ritualistic tradition of bribing, in this case for a better life in exchange for paper money. Even if you believe in that for a minute, do you really think God follows the business model of LIC ? That he needs such men as agents and officers to promote the universal well being in exchange for the gratification of insatiable carnal desires.

This might seem a little stupid and cheeky, but although Indians are one of the smartest races in terms of mental power, the things we do at the orders of people who don’t even have a high school certificate are downright foolish.  No, marrying a tree or dog does not ward off evil spirits. When the Guru asks you to take your clothes off in order free yourself from mortal greed , he is just getting you naked. A set of random rocks on your hands won’t change the solar system and it sure as hell won’t get you a job/wife/money. The only one benefiting out of all this jewellery is the jeweler.

We need to grow up and wake up fast, look behind the hypnotic saffron. When they say they sense an evil soul nearby, you now know where to look.   A constant touring and traveling god man does transcend beyond the normal range of an average human, but only in the areas of conjuring and counterfeiting actual achievements by some rare individuals. Agreed Indians are a wee bit religious and superstitious, but who would believe that we give our inheritances away for the peace of those who gave their blood and sweat for that very inheritance.

‘Selling Moksha’ is the best business that has even been, no degrees needed. Suck it, Harvard.