LONG LIVE DEATH

Once upon a time, on a chilly dark Saturday night old Mrs. Jules sat by the window looking outside as the world passed by, without a moment of thought, blending into the fog that was all around. Oh! How the time had passed, bringing her less joy and more wrinkles. 

There was a knock on the door. 

'Who is it at this god forbidden hour?!?'

Silly did she know it was death, coming to take her to the inevitable end. 

And there was another knock.

 O what it is!!

'I am death!!’ , Bellowed the cloaked figure, agitated from the unnecessary knocking. 

Beth? What is it child?

Not Beth. DEATH!!!I have come to take you, you old rotting bag of meat!  Yes. Death was pissed. 

‘At this time? Could you come back tomorrow to bake stew? I am too tired today. ’

Looking lifeless, the death returned wondering why it even knocked!

However, not everyone is as lucky as Mrs. Jules. Death is all around us, waiting to swoop in the moment you the other way. It’s the only thing that has been in existence from Stone Age till now. That and cockroaches. 

Death brings you peace in this restless life, an end to the never-ending conundrum.  From the moment you open your eyes, take a breath, the thoughts barge in, too much and too many, your actions and reactions to those thoughts, to the people around, the long term sorrows and the short term joy, the perpetual monotony slowly closing in till the extent of suffocation. Then it is death that brings a sense of solace and completion.  

Although, it would be fun if we could die for a while and wake up at will, not only achieving a monk level meditation, but also a cheap and lazy vacation. Perfectly settling both Indian qualms.

Also if you get the timing right, you can sneak up on people saying things about you.  

Yes, it would be totally weird to wake up in a box; if you get late.

If you look at it in another way, death is the only thing that we cannot choose. We are in sort of a poker game with the nature. For each of our nuclear advancement and genetic breakthrough, nature raises us a new virus and mass genocide. A tornado for each time we dig deeper for oil and gold. We are pretty much pissing off the biggest bully in the schoolyard, what do you expect?

Philosophically, aren’t we all a little dead inside?  Some lost their souls, some got theirs killed while others just traded it to be like the rest. We have grown from a calm, self sustaining race to one riddled with morbidity, paranoia and greed. We messed up and obviously ran out on the expiration date. It is nature's time to declare extinction so the following words should bring you peace-:          

THE END 

why rape?

 SHAME SHAME PUPPY SHAME, ALL THE RAPISTS TELL YOUR NAME

Man has invented the wheel, brewed beer, has created robots and made them tread different planets. And yes, the same progressive man has disgustingly and inhumanely raped woman for centuries.
Rape is not and has never been a personal accident or bad luck; it is a maniacal crime with a baneful aura which has been treated with bias, used dexterously, for propaganda purposes and even for fake pacification attempts at the behest of the aggravated anti -feminist groups.
If you look at the oh-so-noble world we live in, there is not a place where a woman can consider herself safe. The moment she steps off the bed each and every place is a hostile environment for her> rooms,gyms,transport,workplace,bars,streets,farms,airports,cafes,hospitals,schools,colleges.When you think about it the bed is not safe too, being the focal point of the very issue. Half the population in the world is a potential victim; even then, rape does not get the proactive attention it needs. A major thorn in the path is the myth that rape is a threat that occurs on the streets at night. The truth however, is far from it. While it’s a common paradigm that rape takes place in some proverbial shady dark alley, it’s an actual fact that 7/10 victims know their attacker and the dreaded act occurs in the home of either the victim or the rapist. Funny how women are taken on guilt-trips by somehow making them think they provoked the attacker with their clothing or gestures. If that is a valid reason rapes should not occur throughout winter or in cold regions? But maybe a girl packed up in a warmer, 2 sweaters and a parka is enticing after all? All you need is a set of prying eyes that put superman to shame.

Instead of the blame games and the introduction of slow help lines, if the issue is to be sorted out, the level of punishment sentenced to the offenders needs to be capital and immoral to the core. A vulgar act needs a vulgar punishment, definitely making the offender think twice.
Picture this, a juicy fat piece of meat tied to the offenders rape tool who is wearing six inch heels escaping a couple of hungry, mentally impaired dogs who throw acid and grope him randomly at any chance they get,  down a shady dark alley. It is not about right?
Even better is to leave them overnight with testosterone spiked bulls in a lonely, isolated shed.

Men show various psychopathic tendencies in almost all women related issues. Does the progress of the women in a shockingly short period make the male chauvinist shift uncomfortably in his feebly dominant position? Furthermore, why are the rapists even allowed lawyers for defense, since they are not human enough to attract human rights?



Don’t Rape. Or I hope an aggressive HOMO finds you.

How to make a Politician

Stir Fried Politician  #FFL

Take a bowl made out of lies, and pour in some the slow moving ineptitude.

In a blender, add sodomy, corruption and servility and blend.

Pour the blended contents to the bowl.

On a chopping board, finely chop up two ounces of social unconsciousness and a cup of hypocrisy.

Empty the bowl and the chopped contents in a greasy pan as flat as the politician itself.

Stir it slowly till the aroma of manipulation and deceit fills the air.

As the politician turns brown and wrinkled, sprinkle some fresh tyranny and dehydrated self obsession.

Slowly saute it till it’s toothless, slobbering, fatty and half dead.

Serve hot. (With extra douchery on the side)

Now as you taste the Pièce de résistance , as you savor the sting, zing and smack and let it settle over a period of time you might get constipated, nauseated and develop suicidal tendencies while the people all around  face economic slowdowns, scandals and highly inflated interest rates. But well, you cooked it, now swallow it. The only good part about it is that it would not stretch on for five long years.

Long live..Deadmockrecy.