Vanilla Pudding

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There are few stories that are too funny to be untrue. But even fewer of those get printed on the first page. Here is one.

Excerpted from an article which appeared in the Dublin Times about a bank robbery on March 2, 1999.

Once inside the bank shortly after midnight, their efforts at disabling the internal security system got underway immediately.

The robbers, who expected to find one or two large safes filled with cash and valuables, were surprised to see hundreds of smaller safes scattered throughout the bank. The robbers cracked the first safe’s combination, and inside they found only a bowl of vanilla pudding.

As recorded on the bank’s audio tape system, one robber said, “At least we’ll have a bit to eat.” The robbers opened up a second safe, and it also contained nothing but vanilla pudding. The process continued until all the safes were opened.

They found not one pound sterling, a diamond, or an ounce of gold. Instead, all the safes contained covered bowls of pudding.

Disappointed, the robbers made a quiet exit, each leaving with nothing more than a queasy, uncomfortably full stomach.

The newspaper headline read:

“IRELAND’S LARGEST SPERM BANK ROBBED EARLY THIS MORNING.”

Season Ticket

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Sarah and her Husband

Sarah was reading a newspaper, while her husband was engrossed in a magazine. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. “Listen to this,” she said. “There’s a classified ad here where a guy is offering his wife for a season ticket to the stadium.”

“Hmmm,” her husband said, not looking up from his magazine.

Teasing him, Sarah said, “Would you swap me for a season ticket?”

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“How sweet,” Sarah said. “Tell me why not.”

“Season’s more than half over,” he said.

 

Nuts,Guts and Cracked Eggs

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Sometimes u don’t know what u want in life, until u get kicked in the nuts, literally.

This is precisely what happened to me, on a late freezing winters night I was walking on an abandoned strip outside the city. Minding my own business, lost in my thoughts. Pondering about my personal and professional lives. Evaluating which one was worst, when suddenly I was ambushed by some local goons.  They were three, and each one of them could easily be counted as three.

no wait!

I am not telling u this face to face, u cant see me. haah!! this is an anonymus blog u dont even know my name, or where i live. Damn! u dont know first thing about me. then why the hell I am lying my guts out. Although one thing so far is true, my guts did came out  that day. And yes, no I mean sorry, it was a day not a night but a bright sunny day.

lets start all over again…

It was a bright sunny day. And from where I live, by sunny day we mean that the sun is so close to u that u can pinch his cheeks or count his eye lashes. With absolutly nothing to look farword to professionly and dady’s money to splurge, or whats left of it. I along with two friends, was roaming in a local market .

Before we get ahead. u should know something about my friends. A) they spend more hours in gym than sleeping B) for some reason they only focus on their chests and that of thier female companions. C) after 8 months of A n B they look like letter ‘V’ or ‘W’ if both of them are walking together, i used to call them Humpty and Dumpty.  And D) they both wear pants that are so thight, so tight that sometimes I fear if it possibly can get any tighter, oil will come out of thier bodies.

coming back to where we left off,

so wondering in the streets of a nearby bazaar, with the ‘W’,  dripping like a faucet under the beaming sun, but still managing to look cool shoulders above. I looked at every passing girl,woman, mother of small twins, mediam twins, large twins, extra large…I think I should stop  now(i do have this tendency to go overboard, soon u’ll realize). It was then, when I saw the most beautiful girl that I had seen that whole afternoon. Needles to say that I had fallen hopelessly in love with her. She along with her double d’s, I mean two dee-dee’s (sisters), sorry! Bad tendency, was there, I think, for me and the ‘W’.

With coconut in one hand and handkerchief in other I went towards her . We both looked in each others eyes. Deep purple, she had the most weird n lovely piece of contact lenses on.

hello!, said I.

move!! came the reply, she was a nightingale.

I offered to wipe her forehead. Surprised, she looked at her sisters, which were bieng simultaneously given the full body scan by my trusted aides.

Ruthlessly she took the handkerchief from my hand and threw it on the road. Straight in to the fresh green dung, cow dung.

She and her sisters were gettin agitated, i could see. But I too was her biggest admirer.

As Humpty was still busy giving the body scan and Dumpty was trying all his might to bend (remember the pants) and pickup the handkerchief. While with both my hands I offered her the coconut…”U can have this also!”

And With both of her hands she grabbed my nut, coconut.

with the my big, round, tender and juicy coconut in her hands (LOL!!!) she looked at her sisters, standing by her each shoulder. I was ecstatic, as  both of them gave her the nod. she raised the coconut over her sweaty forehead and  passed it to her sister. Which wasn’t too bad herself, or in absolute terms doable (Sorry!). Humpty’s eyes were fixed,He stood their motionless, senseless. What he saw transcended him in to another world. And Dumpty was still triyng to pickup the rag. I was the only with the eye contact.

HAAIYAA! one of them cried.

and with all her might one sister threw or rather slammed that coconut on humpty’s head. And like any guy who just had been hit on the back of his head by a huge coconut, he fell! The slamming of the coconut made a loud noise. Unable to comprehend what has happened, Dumpty hurriedly move back up and in that process the back of his pants, barely holding, couldn’t resist any more and gave away. With no boxers and the most ugliest part of his body now on public display , embarresed as hell he ran with his hands covering his modesty with all his streangth he could conjure up in those chicken legs, he ran!

I was the last man standing in front of  Charlie’s angels, not to mention three sets of beedy but ferocious looking Green, deep purple and orange eyes,.

And with another cry of HAAIYAA!!…. it was the last sound I remember  that came of those luscious lips. My dream girl planted one, right in my large but soft spot. :(

Eyes went red, blood supply  in the head stopped. My balls came in my mouth and I fell.

I woke up in a hospital later that night, thankfully no complaint was filled.

With a whole night to myself, nursing my cracked eggs. I thought long and hard (unlike my… :( ) about my life. Trying to find the answers to boring questions like what have i became, what is going to be my future, what shoud i do with my life. And after hours n hours of deep thinking I finally discovered the purpose of my life.

I have realized that to get that sacred inner peace (which that old green rabbit so gravely brag about), I have to learn karate and find those sisters. And after one week of physical therapy, I will begin my quest and in 2 to 5 years, depending upon my interest level and their availability, I along with Humpty and Dumpty will hunt them individually.

once again

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happiness

what does it takes to be happy?

personally, nothing less than a million dollars. or something worth a million dollars.

once again i am standing at a point in my life where my bajillion dollar happiness is slipping out of my hands. I know, I can’t hold on to it, but I am trying everything.

Once again i am standing where i was  8 months ago but with a wiser head and a weaker heart. Once again the future looks uncertain, dark n frightening. Once again I don’t want to look ahead. These feelings are not new to me. I just didn’t knew that they will comeback this soon and with this much force.

Everyone has heard the tales of how shattering a break up is, breaking up with one is difficult. But once again I have to endure the pain of doing it with 4 at once.

How can someone in a few months become so important that the life without it becomes unimaginable. They say history repeats itself and it certainly has in my case. But i don’t think i have it in me to go through it once again.

a year in a life span doesn’t count for much..but I will gladly give my life to live it once again.

I was naive the last time, didn’t knew how to deal with it. Left to suffer the pain of a broken heart. But this time i have given the broken pieces to each one of them. no heart no pain! But that damn empty space, still aches.

One Billionth iphone

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Surprise is a brief emotional state experienced as the result of an unexpected event. Surprise can have any valence; that is, it can be neutral/moderate, pleasant, or unpleasant. If a person experiences a very powerful or long lasting surprise, it may be considered shock.

But how can it be a surprise, when I meticulously  planned the whole thing three months in advance, spent the last few days counting hair in my armpits and spent the night before ‘that’ day in a sleeping bag outside the store on a sidewalk in fudging cold. So, it wasn’t a surprise. No! Wait! Yes!, yes it was.

It has been more than two months since the launch of iphone8 but last Saturday was the day when ,finally, I had all the resources, i.e time and money but mostly money, to buy one. All that time I had to wait, all that hate I had for people already having one was coming to an end. Although it was a huge day for me but it started like any other. The store opened at 9 and by 9:04 was swamped with hordes of  people. I was  sixth in line. And after watching five other people laughing and crying with sheer joy. I went to the counter and was greeted by a rather bemused looking  employee. As I asked for my phone , a loud siren went off, everyone in the store started clapping and a banner rolled down the front wall reading a figure which had a lot of zeroes. I counted them, it was a big number with 1 followed by 9 zeroes, 1 billion.

It took me a while and a lot of explanation by the apple staff to comprehend the fact that I have become the owner of the 1 billionth iphone. To add to the occasion Tim cook was there, so were few reporters. And  after a lot of celebrations and hoopla I finally got my phone. It was and wasn’t like any other iphone. Made up of platinum that too studded with diamonds and sapphires, 1 billionth iphone was truly a million dollar phone.

My photo was on the front page. Everywhere I went people asked to look at my phone. Most of them had the same phone but mine was better, some of them even had a bigger phone but mine was heavier, made up of platinum that too studded with diamonds and sapphires. But the burden of carrying a million dollar phone was something else.

I couldn’t took it out in public places,one day I ran 200 meters and 2 flights of stairs just to get into a public toilet to attend an important call.I couldn’t talk for more than 15 mins. at the same time due to trapping of heat inside the platinum case, there are burnt marks on my left ear from the one time when my mom called. I even had to install an extra lock on the door and bought a safe just to keep it.

But after some time it all became very smooth, in one month I could run faster than I ran ever before, And developed this incredible ability to end any conversation in less than 15 minutes, plus I kinda like the attention it got me. Month after that I learned  kung-fu, now I could even talk in public.

Then came Christmas and I was invited for the Apple’s annual celebrations. The party was lame. but the night was awesome. And in freezing cold I decided to walk myself home. Covered in four layers of clothing I was making my way home when I saw a small kid in soiled clothes sitting roadside, Although it was dark and I was on the other side of the road, the kid looked depressed, lonely and sad.

What then, I surfed ebay on my smartphone. And With money that I made in the next 48 hours, the city’s orphanage became richer by one million dollars. Now they can accommodate 500 more children. And as for me I am now the owner of a sprawling 3600 sq. feet  apartment in a posh neighborhood, celebrating new year in a five star resort with my mother in Hawaii and writing all this down on my new iphone8S, the most incredible iphone yet.

 

 

A Woman’s Poem

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He didn’t like the casserole,

and he didn’t like my cake.

He said my biscuits were too hard,

not like his mother used to make.

I didn’t perk the coffee right,

he didn’t like the stew,

I didn’t mend his socks,

the way his mother used to do.

I pondered for an answer.

I was looking for a clue.

Then I turned around

and smacked the shit out of him.

Like his mother used to do.

SOBER MAN: 0 to 22 in three hours.

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I used to think that Red Bull was the most destructive invention of the past 50 years. I was wrong. Red Bull has been usurped by the portable alcohol breathalyzer. The same device that cops have been using for 10 years to conduct field sobriety tests is now offered by the Sharper Image for $99. It is the size and shape of a small cell phone with a clear round tube sticking up from the top, almost like an antenna. One blows into the tube, and a few seconds later a Blood Alcohol Content (BAC) reading is given. Though not as accurate as a blood test, they are accurate to within .01, which is good enough for my purposes.

I was living in Boca Raton, Florida, when I bought one to take out with me on a Saturday night. This is the story:

9:00pm: Arrive at the restaurant. I am the first one of the group there, even though our reservations are for 9pm. The restaurant is crowded full of the abysmal type of people that infest South Florida. Already depressed, I order a vodka and club soda.

9:10: Two 30+ year-old Jewish women on my left keep eyeing me. Both have fake breasts. One has exceptionally large fake breasts. They are beckoning me from her shirt. She is not highly attractive. I begin drinking faster.

9:15: No one else has arrived. I order my third vodka and club. While I wait for it, I try out my portable breathalyzer. I blow a .02. This is the greatest invention ever made. I am giddy. I show the breathalyzer to the fake-breasted Jewish women next to me. We begin a conversation.

9:16: They both have thick Long Island accents. I summon the bartender over and change my order to a tall double vodka on the rocks, splash of club.

9:23: Four people at the bar have tried my breathalyzer, both of the fake-breasted women included. Everyone wants to know their BAC. I am the center of attention. I am happy.

9:25: The first member of my group arrives. I show him the breathalyzer. He is enthralled. He buys a round. The fake-breasted women loudly inform us they would like drinks. My friend buys them drinks. I order a double vodka on the rocks. No splash.

9:29: I blow again, a .04. I’ve been drinking for half an hour, and am on my forth drink. My wheels of intellect begin grinding through the vodka haze that is already forming…four drinks…a .04…that must mean that each drink only adds .01 to my BAC. I begin to think that I can drink a lot. I tell one of the fake-breasted women that she is very interesting.

9:38: Six of the eight are here. I lie to the hostesses, and they seat our incomplete party. Everyone is talking about my breathalyzer. I am the focus of adulation. I forgive everyone for sucking so bad. I think this night may go OK after all.

9:40: I blow again, a .05. This confuses me. I haven’t ordered another drink since I blew a .04. I have a vague memory from a long distant D.A.R.E. class about the rate of alcohol absorption being constant, regardless of speed of drinking. This memory quickly fades when two hot girls at the table next to me inquire about my portable breathalyzer.

10:04: The novelty of the portable breathalyzer has passed. The table has moved on. I am no longer the center of attention. I am not happy with my table.

10:10: .07

10:17: .08. I am no longer legally eligible to drive in the state of Florida. I announce this fact to no one in particular.

10:26: .09

10:27: I decide that I am going to see how drunk I can get and still be functional. I know that .35 BAC kills most people. I think that .20 is a good goal.

10:28: I get up, saying nothing to the seven sophists at my table, and go back to the bar. I don’t leave money for my drinks.

10:29: The fake-breasted women are still at the bar. They want drinks. Upset that I’m only at .09 after a good hour and a half of aggressive drinking, I decide to do a round of shots. I let the women pick the shots, with the explicit instruction that it cannot be whiskey, cannot smell like whiskey, cannot even resemble whiskey.

10:30: The shots arrive. Tequila. Judging by the bill, very good tequila. It is smooth. We order another round.

11:14: I blow a .15. I have passed a milestone. Only .05 away from my goal. My pride swells. I show everyone my .15. The bar crowd is impressed. I am their idol. Someone buys me a shot.

11:28: I feel queasy. I realize that I didn’t even stick around the table for dinner. Not wanting to either go back to my table or eat at the bar, I walk across the street to a sushi restaurant.

11:29: There is a lingerie party at the sushi restaurant. Half of the people are in some form of pajamas or other bedtime clothing. Everyone here sucks as bad as the last place, except they are in their underwear.

11:30: I am confused. I only want sushi. I stand at the door, mesmerized by the shifting masses of near nakedness. A mildly attractive girl who apparently works at the restaurant wants me to put on lingerie. I tell her I don’t have any. I just want some sushi. She says I should at least take off my pants. I ask her if this will get me sushi. She says it will. I take off my pants.

11:31: I take off my pants. I have on pink and white striped Gap boxers. They are too tight. I make sure my package is tucked in. People watch me do this.

11:32: I order sushi by pointing at the pictures and grunting.

11:33: I show a guy at the sushi bar my breathalyzer. He is impressed. He shows it to everyone. People begin congregating around me. I am a star again.

11:41: I blow a .17. I tell everyone my goal. Someone orders me a shot.

11:42: I do the shot. Something that has a familiar taste, makes me feel warm inside. I ask what it is. “Cognac and Alize.” There is a God, and he hates me.

11:47: My sushi arrives. I slosh soy sauce over it and shovel it into my mouth as quickly as my hands will get it there.

11:49: My sushi is finished. No one is paying attention to my table manners, as everyone is crowded around the breathalyzer, waiting their turn to find out their BAC.

12:18: I blow a .20. I AM A GOD. The sushi bar erupts. Men are applauding me. Girls are pining for me. Everyone wants to talk to me. I forgive them their flaws, as they are all paying attention to me.

12:31: My deity status is lost. Someone blows a .22. This is a challenge to my manhood. I order a depth charge with a Bacardi 151 shot. And a beer back. The crowd is in awe.

12:33: I finish the depth charge, and the beer. I talk shit to my challenger, “Who runs this bar now, B*****??” The crowd erupts. Momentum has swung back in my direction. I am Maximus. I am winning the crowd. I will rule the sushi bar.

12:54: I blow a .22. Only mild cheers this time. Everyone is waiting for the challenger to blow.

12:56: He blows a .24. He smiles condescendingly at me. I order two more shots.

12:59: I do the first shot. It doesn’t go down well. I decide to take a short break from drinking. The crowd is not impressed.

1:10: Reality sets in. I am going to vomit. A LOT. I try to discreetly make it outside.

1:11: I knock a girl over as I sprint through the door.

1:11: I trip over a bush, stumble into it, and begin throwing up. Out of my mouth. And nose. It is not pleasant.

1:14: I can’t figure out why my legs hurt so much. I look down at them in between heaves. I have no pants on. Thorns and branches are embedded in my shins.

1:21: I go back into the sushi restaurant. A few people stare at me in a peculiar manner. I look down, and then tuck my partially exposed sack back into my boxers. I don’t know what to do about my bleeding legs. I look around for my pants.

1:24: I can’t find my pants. My breathalyzer is in clear sight. I blow. A .23. Someone informs me that my challenger just blew a .26. They add that he hasn’t thrown up yet. I tell them to “kiss my fucking a**.” My last clear memory.

8:15am: I wake up. I don’t know where I am. It is very hot. I am sweating horribly. It smells like rotting flesh.

8:16: I am in my car. With the windows up. The sun is beating down directly on me. It is at least 125 degrees in my car. I open the door and try to get out, but instead I fall onto the pavement. The scabs that cover my legs tear and reopen as I move.

8:19: The fetid standing water finally propels me into full consciousness. I can’t find my pants. Or cell phone. Or wallet. But I do have my breathalyzer. I blow. A .09. I am still not eligible to drive in the state of Florida.

8:22: I drive home anyway.
Let me be clear about this night: it was in my top 5 drunkest nights ever. I was completely shit-housed. I threw up multiple times, some of them through my nose. JESUS CHRIST, I WOKE UP blowing a .09. That’s fucking ridiculous. That thing is awful. All you do is drink in order to increase your BAC. That device is the devil dressed in a transistor.

My advice to you: avoid it at all costs.

****

borrowed from: http://www.tuckermax.com

***BoxerDog***

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The Americans and Russians, at the height of the arms race, realized that if they continued in the usual manner they were going to blow up the whole world.
One day they sat down and decided to settle the whole dispute with one dog fight. They’d have five years to breed the best fighting dog in the world and whichever side’s dog won would be entitled to dominate the world. The losing side would have to lay down its arms.
The Russians found the biggest, meanest Doberman and Rottweiler ——- in the world and bred them with the biggest meanest Siberian wolves. They selected only the biggest and strongest puppy from each litter, killed his siblings, and gave him all the milk. They used steroids and trainers and after five years came up with the biggest meanest dog the world had ever seen. Its cage needed steel bars that were three inches thick and nobody could get near it.
When the day came for the fight, the Americans showed up with a strange animal. It was a nine-foot long Dachshund. Everyone felt sorry for the Americans because they knew there was no way that this dog could possibly last ten seconds with the Russian dog.
When the cages were opened up, the Dachshund came out and wrapped itself around the outside of the ring. It had the Russian dog almost completely surrounded. When the Russian dog leaned over to bite the Dachshund’s neck, the Dachshund reached out and consumed the Russian dog in one bite. There was nothing left at all of the Russian dog. The Russians came up to the Americans, shaking their heads in disbelief. `We don’t understand how this could have happened. We had our best people working for five years with the meanest Doberman and Rottweiler ——- in the world and the biggest, meanest Siberian wolves.”
“That’s nothing,” an American replied. “We had our best plastic surgeons working for five years to make an alligator look like a Dachshund.”

“$0.99 Only”

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I was asked to write a story that includes some given elements, here are the elements:
1. Kermit, the klutz
2. Spelunking
3. Bobbie Sue (one leg), Grandpa (alien abductee?), Tookie (stoner dog)
4. Dark tone
5. Neon-pink umbrella
6. Nisha, Kermit’s exact opposite (met in a hospital)

This is my response, hope you like it…

Albeit a single bed, a small cupboard with an even smaller bathroom hardly makes for an house but for the sleepy head this ancestral home was much more than what he could have put up with his $3 an hour pay at ‘$0.99 only’. That night would have been like any other if it hadn’t been for that damn phone call.

it was half past 3 and Kermit was sleeping in his ‘bedrom’, coz two O’s demands a lot more space. The night was dark, there were no clouds and no soul in the street to break the deafening silence. With his trusted Tookie, a dog even more peculiar than its name, by his side guarding his masters belongings. Few utensils, some ugly photo frames, a pre WWII radio and a few clothes doesn’t really need any guarding but Tookie was up to it.  It was then, when the phone rang.

It was the Holly Family Hospital, His old man was in the psychiatric ward, ever since he went spelunking and was abducted by the aliens he hasn’t found this ignorant and at times mocking world very sane. Apparently Looney was refusing medicine. It took sleepy head  forty minutes of walk coupled with a a very expensive cab ride to reach there. But by the time he got there pa was back into his extra terrestrial dreams as if panic attack never happened, poor Kermit.

Disappointed and relived came out of the hospital he, looking for a yet another expensive cab ride, this time back to home. Also In search of the cab was someone else. Slim, about five and a half, looked his age, dressed in a black track suit she claimed to be from the same neighborhood , but he had never seen her. That was plausible since except his dad and few others from work sleepy didn’t knew anybody. And the only interactions he had with the opposite gender was with the chubby old ones that came to his store. Thrift, Kermit asked her to share a cab, she agreed. The girl had came to see her grandmother who also had a panic attack, poor girl.

The cab took almost an hour to reach its destination and our sleepy head about half an hour to ask her name, Nisha it was. They chatted a lot in the latter part of the journey; He told her all about his forefathers, she nodded a lot.  They were near their destination but decided to leave the cab and walk rest of the distance. Although he sternly protested but they shared the fare. He told her every story he could manage from his timid life, some of them were even real. Kermit’s house came first, as they were about to part their ways and were saying goodbyes. What kermit saw ran shivers down his spine, The bedroom light was on.

even with a history of klutziness, kermit was sure that he checked the lights before he left. Hurriedly and horridly they ran through the stairs. And to add to his horrors the door was ajar. They went inside, the whole house was in mess and sitting in the looney’s rocking chair old, wise, crocked, short, stocky with crutch in his one hand and a gun in the other and a hint of a grin peaking from the thicket that has grown on his face one legged Bobbie sue politely asked “Where is my gold ?”.

Gold! Kermit wasn’t sure that any one in his family has even seen gold. Even upon his repeated rejections Bobby sue didn’t acquiesced. He was in no mood to leave without his gold. He was sure that the gold he and Looney discovered while spelunking was hidden somewhere in this house. Bobby stood up pointed the gun at NIsha and asked for the one final time Whare izz mah ghold!..? . In reply sleepy whistled but nothing happened, to both nisha’s and bobby’s amazement he whistled again, again nothing happened. “Where is Tookie?” Asked Kermit. With a shimmer in his eyes “some where safe, but not for long“Sue replied.

Bobby left the building saying that they both have two hours to get him the gold otherwise he can forget “the damn dog!”. Kermit told her that she can leave but Nisha was very cooperative. She asked him wether his father ever mentioned or hinted at any thing to him about this, the reply was negative. Sleepy was sure that of all the conversations that took place in this house between him and his old man gold was never mentioned or hinted in any one of them.

They began searching the house, first they emptied the cupboard, although most of it was already on the floor. As Nisha was going through rest of the stuff. Kermit stood on his tows and with his arms stretched above his head, he searched the top of the cupboard with his eyes closed as he was trying to feel even the slightest of the things that could have been placed there.  Even with his arms stretched he couldn’t get to the backend of the surface. So he decided to jump and give a full swipe of his hand. He did the same and to his luck he actually hit something it fell on the ground but so did the klutzy.

It was the ugly photo frames wrapped in a thin clothe. The clothe wasn’t much of the protector, Sharp edge of one of the frames pierced the cloth, dented the wooden floor and also it self. The dull pink color from the edge came off and instead of the expected black color the frame was made up of some amber colored metal. He purposely scratched all three rest of them and they all were of the same build.

With glitter in his eyes and sheer bewilderment on his face he looked at the frames in his hand, they were quite heavy but he didn’t mind. It was then, when nisha snapped the frames from his hand and reminded him of Tookie, whom she never met, and his love for the dogs, nisha loved pet dogs.  The thought of running away with both the frames and nisha came to his mind several time but so did the happy memories of the stoner face. It was nearly dawn, With a heavy heart he went to the pre-decided meeting point and exchanged the frames for the damn dog. He patted Tookie, on his way back, he turned and ask NIsha “I guess you aren’t coming”  to which she replied “not without my dad and the Gold”.

Kermit was back at work, as usual he went up the ladder procured the asked item, came down the ladder. But this time was different, though he was at work his mind was somewhere else, he was thinking about the adventures of last night and how few hours back for roughly sixty minutes he had a fortune and a beautiful girl.As he handed over the neon pink umbrella to an old chubby lady, she asked “how much?“.
“$0.99 only” he replied.

Seeking Nirvana

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the day was like any other the sun was beaming hard, a lot of hustling and bustling in the street most of it was unnecessary, except it was a holiday. Although I cherish the rare breed that holidays are, but spending four back to back in a strange town with very few, hardly any, friends or acquaintances  was an insipid task. It was the forth day and my boredom was at its zenith. With absolutely nothing to do and a 1970 tv set which was showing (although flickering would be more appropriate) daily soaps in an incomprehensible local language. I sat on a rocking chair near the window with stone cutters from nearby under construction house providing background music. I tried reading but my heart was somewhere else, somewhere 1000 miles away where my family and friends were celebrating this festive season.

all these thoughts made my eyelids unbearably heavy and I dozed off. It was late in the afternoon when rain bombarding my tin roof broke my captivation. As usual  power was out,though power came here four-five years ago, even she doesn’t spend more than half a day here. Sluggishly I got my self out the chair, feeling a bit underdone in my belly and with my trusted umbrella accompanying me I went out to eat. But for reasons beyond my understanding, my regular dinner was closed on a ‘festive holiday’. With umbrella in one hand and misfortune in another, I went further down the road, starving. I was walking parallel to a tree line and the sudden showers had breath life into them.

the rain was more of a drizzle now and my umbrella was working as a cane. It was getting a little dark when I heard a whistle coming from the woods. Like the rain it was light but persistent. And as so many other stories go I too followed the sound. It was melodious, the whistle, definitely the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, I was no longer hungry. Deep inside the woods I went, desperately wanting to find the source of such euphonious sound. My walk turned into trot but the whistle was fading, as if the person was running away from me.

under a spell I persuaded the sound but of no use. No matter how fast I walk, the whistle was sneaking away. It was dark now with full moon providing the only illumination,that was a beautiful scene but I didn’t had the time. Tired and desperately in search of nirvana. For one last hurrah, with one last gasp of breath I ran towards the origin. I ran between the trees, smashing all the follower beds that came in the way. I was almost out of breath when I saw the cave. It was a black cave not big in size but large enough to let one or two person sit inside and play music. The sight of a cave in a thick Forrest after dark is both intriguing and frightening but holding my umbrella as the Excalibur I entered.

to my bewilderment the cave was huge from inside and had a waterfall in it. I could hear the sound loud and clear and it wasn’t fading. oh! the sound it was mesmerizing and it was coming from behind the waterfall. There was no point in leaving now, I had to find the truth. I went inside the waterfall and came out on the other end.

What I saw is very hard for me to describe. I was standing on a port with ships bigger than the football fields, bigger than what I have seen in the movies. There were more people than I have seen in my entire life. Bright and bold cars raced past each other. Shops had there personal huge tv screens displaying there signs. Streetlights everywhere not a single crook on the street was dark, absolute abundance of electricity.It felt like my own space odyssey.I wondered on the street for awhile. But my joy was short-lived. I got bored of it, sheer chaos it was. All the cars, the sirens on ships, people yelling outside their coffee shops asking others to come in and the constant nonstop ringing of portable phones were deafening me. I went there looking for a melodious sound, a sound which was soothing to my soul but all that purposeless honking, ringing, yelling and loud music all that noise was hurting my ears. I saw ships bigger than fields, buildings taller than mountains, there were more people on the street than in my whole country but the view wasn’t appealing, even the air was hurting my eyes. I couldn’t understand what was happening, where had I come. It was then, a newspaper caught my sight. I picked it up, the photographs were in color but the thing that caught my eyes was the date which read aug22,2012.