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Original Thought

27 Apr

In the morning I woke up and I thought that I thought a new thought.

I mentally scribbled the new thought in my mind thought blurb.

I thought of you and thought to share the thought.

I thought of my blog and thought of writing my thought as a thought post.

So here is the thought….

Rest of it, I think you have already thought.

hahahaha.

Keep it simple stupid

23 Feb

I recently had a bet with someone that I can prove I’m the best kisser in the world.

Now as soon as one says one runs into practical problem of logistics, research methodology, number of participants, the universe, credibility, etc. Because the accurate methodology would be everyone kissing everyone and then rating each other to finally reach the conclusion.

But history is witness and we privy to this untenable reality that everyone kissing everyone is a problem, especially on the lips, some like to kiss the butt, some like their boots to be kissed, some like their boots to kiss someone’s butt and so and so forth.

A practical conclusion and demonstration remains a distant dream.

Now there is a possible solution that is we can work with the assumption that everyone has kissed and knows a good kiss, I go and kiss every girl, she rates me better or worse than kiss or kisses she has had in the past. I am definitely a willing respondent and participant but the result will still be inconclusive and inaccurate. Imagine all women say I am a better kisser and just one woman say I am not as good as her lover and that lover has kissed only that woman, I am doomed. Because then that man has to kiss all the women so that it can be established. So by sheer complexity of various permutations and combinations and limitations of time I need to find a different approach to win the bet.

See get me clear here, there is no doubt in the veracity of my claim, and it technically is above any suspicion or counter claim, it just that it requires a mathematical proof.

It’s like saying why is one 1 and not two.

So you very patiently explain to the person, the theory, philosophy and the concept of unit, symbolism, analogy, material, spiritual, metaphysical and through other tools to give an understanding and quell all misgivings.

I need a similar tool.

Sam, dam, dand, bhed.

There is nothing that cannot be proved mathematically.

Let’s start from the beginning again.

There are two possibilities:-

Possibility 1: I am the best kisser in the world

Possibility 2: I am not the best kisser in the world.

We have seen that proving possibility one is tad bit difficult, we would now try to attempt finding out about the other possibility and whether we can prove that to be true or false.

I like it.

This seems to be a more interesting terrain.

To digress from the topic for a short while, I am sure everyone remembers the story of Frog in the well. The moral if you recollect was that life is all about experiences, a limited experience limits you to judge everything. Its only if and only if you have led a rich life, have spread your wings to fly far and wide you will be able to fathom an understanding, though it always will be miniscule in the grand scheme of the universe, point being only that person will be a better judge.

And we are not even into acquired tastes right now.

Wasabi sauce.

Who has liked it the first time they have tried.

Know what, life actually is very confusing.

Imagine a person, who has read a single book, can that person make a judgment about books?
And sometimes a person attains legend by a single act, take Mario Puzo, can you make a complete judgment about him unless you have read Godfather?

And in some cases it’s the reverse that is true, you have watched, experienced, tasted, read one great thing and not seen the crappy balance body of work, will your judgment be accurate with evaluating that act from the filter of fluke, an accident?

You must be thinking, why are we talking about all this and didn’t he say it will be short?

We will immediately get back to our initial quest.

Since assumption 1 is difficult to prove, we will come to assumption 2, that I am not the best kisser. That by virtue of definition must be judged by others. So the question comes who can judge me? That small detour was to define the properties and characteristics of the judge.

I at this point, in my defense, would like to bring to your notice another intrinsic aspect of the locking of lips.

It is not a solitary activity, it is a group activity, in the sense two parties are involved at the same time.

The quality of the act in a collective activity is judged by the mean of the performance of both the players.

Ah, I can see you need another analogy.

Sania Nehwal is a great badminton player. Now we all know that, it will make it easier for you to understand the point.

Sania Nehwal claims that I am the best badminton player or keeping the ranking in mind, she says I am second best player in the world, or in other words a very good badminton player, we all would agree.

Why?

Because we have seen her demonstrate that, we know she has won championships and other such proof points.

Now imagine no one knew of this fact and she made the claim (like I have done with the kiss, keep our objectives in mind as you read), she will be asked to prove it.

Now imagine no one else knows how to play badminton and she plays with such players, she would look as ordinary as them. For her to demonstrate her greatness or bestness, she will need a player of her class and stature, so that she can show her moves on the court, her delicate drops, her sublime movements, her powerful smashes, her teasing lobs, her deceptive footwork, her flexible wrist. Its only when she gets a chance of showcase her range she shall be able to answer her claim.

I unfortunately am in the same situation.

I am the best.

It’s a reality.

A fact as true as sun rising from the west. (caught it, was just checking if you were paying attention)

I can prove it provided you are also the best.

Unless you are not a player of not my skill it is impossible for me to prove and world to believe.

So if you do kiss and don’t like it, it showcases your mediocrity and not my greatness.

P.S: Now some intelligent brains would be thinking and considering kiss from POV of badminton. Ladies, I know the rules of the game better than you, I know you are thinking, if I play against Sania, I would know she is better player than me and others I have played against and hence say she is better. My beautiful reader, analogy is not a parallel, it is to explain a point. To understand and explain limitation of judgment of kiss, let me give you another analogy, you play against a better player, game will be over in a blink, but if you play against a player of your caliber, the game will be more strenuous, take more effort, it will be more tiring and in your summation far more fun. Unfortunately unlike badminton, where you will know a better play, in a kiss your judgment will be based on equality and you will not be able to appreciate quality, unless you know what quality is.

QED.

I am God

15 Feb

How many ones does 1 have? Is 1 a solitary number, complete in its identity? Not needing anything, not wanting anything more?

Have you ever noticed 1 and I look so similar to each other, like identical twins, like two sides of a coin, mirror images of each other, part of different worlds yet connoting the same meaning.

Is that the ultimate challenge of life to reach a complete isolation?

But is 1 actually alone?

Let’s try to find out empirically.

I take a pen, a white sheet, a pair of scissors and then I write one big 1 on the paper running from top to bottom. After that I proceed to cut the one in two parts, eureka I now have two 1s in my hand. And if my scissors have the capacity to cut up to sub-atom level, I have within each one infinite and I can keep cutting and snipping each one till pigs would fly and even after that could keep cutting till infinite time this infinite activity.

So suddenly we find that one in reality wasn’t alone, it was just an optical illusion. If I have five paper pieces and I asked a passerby to tell me the number there, howsoever he answers there would be a 5 there, five 1s or 5 depending on the perspective.

Aha, I have made an interesting discovery.

Now I quickly write down 2 and try to find more 2s with my scissor but whichever way I try there seems to be only one 2, then I proceed to 3, then to 4, and then go on to numbers running to infinity but each number seem to have only one of it within it physically, while one seems to be have all of them within it.
Nothing new there, isn’t the principle of unit, the foundation of mathematics. Everything comes from it. Each number is just a multiple of a unit.

That’s theoretical right, but the physical nature of each number is different. In physical form, I have the power to change the character of each number except 1. With 9, I can cut the head and place in front of the stem, magically we have a 10 in front of us, or take 3, I cut it in the middle, I have two semi-circles or maybe 2c alphabets, a complete mutation into a new race, language, and so and so forth.
It’s only with 1 I face a problem, whichever way I cut I just keep on getting more ones.

Its form so unchangeable.

And nothing else makes it.

It makes itself.

No creator.

No beginning

No end.

It can make anything.

Everything is made of it.

It was within all that was.

It is within all that exists.

It will be within all that would be.

It can never be destroyed.

All powerful.

All knowing.

1 is God.

That’s grammatically wrong.

I am God.

QED.

My Cruel Wife

22 Oct

My wife is cruel.

First comes the statement all that is left after that are the facts.

So ladies and gentlemen, hear me, as I state on a public platform, my wife is cruel, plain and simple, she is a cruel woman, heartless, coldblooded and pitiless .

And this sudden realization makes me a very nervous man.

Now let me tell you why?

In life people have various hobbies, some collect stamps, some are in love with coins, some fall in love with trivia, some even collect dead butterflies; all kinds of people have all kinds of hobbies.

But guess what my wife’s hobby is?

She collects fools.

Yes, you heard me right, she collects fools.

Nothing intrigues her more than a fool. Where normal people shun the company of fools, she goes out of her way to seek them. You should see her when is with one of that kind, her mouth is wide open, leaning forward so that she doesn’t miss a single word coming out of their mouth, eyes are darting absorbing their every minutest of movement and gesture, waiting for the moment when the magic would happen, like a cat playing with a mouse, watching before she can pounce and capture and imprint it all in her mind. And she is devoted to her pastime. A sane person would not even take their call, or if would see them coming from the other side would change his direction, she on the other hand, defying all logic, calls them, invites them and tries to spend as much time as possible with them. Where sane wallow, she revels.

And she is very democratic in her choice, she collects them all; people with funny voices, weird accents, warped way of looking at life, too serious about life, anyone and everyone who can amaze her and entertain her. There is only one condition, it cannot be normal behavior. Any and every kind of bizarreness; strange, eccentric, weird draws her to the person like moth to fire.

And why does she do it?

Because all these encounters enrich her and give her stories. Did I tell you she is a story-teller?

Yes sir, she is one and a very good one at that. She can relate these stories with lots of gusto and enthusiasm; she has everyone rolling on the floor when she narrates her joyful ludicrous interactions with her ‘friends’. People love her stories.

I used to love them too.

But then one day I was sitting I felt this peculiar sensation, my stomach churned; I rushed to the loo and vomited.

I for the first time knew fear.

All because I asked myself a question; why did she marry me?

And the answer that came back like a catapult jolted me, shocked me, enormity of my position couldn’t escape me.

What more would she want in life than to have a fool around her all the time?

Then I started noticing things, as they truly were, the mask was peeling from the charade.

When I am in the house, I have seen her looking at me, watching me, I used to think that was out of love and affection but now I noticed the strange glint in her eye. One day, I came back home from office, she was sitting with her friends, as soon as I entered, all went quiet and were looking at me with an odd expression, as soon as I stepped out of the room I could hear the peals of laughter resounding behind me, they were giving each other high-fives.

Then I noticed something else I have no idea how that could escape my eye earlier. She normally likes to sit with me and ask me things. But now I noticed, when she asks me something, she always has a pen and a notepad with her and switches on the camcorder. She scribbles furiously, doesn’t utter a word, except sometimes in between to ask me to look towards the camera.

All this very subtle behavior has made me very nervous.

Today when I see her I run away screaming.

Right now, I am hiding in the cupboard and writing all this. I can hear her calling my name, asking me to come out.

So if you are reading this, please save me.

P.S: I will wait here till you come. It’s the second cupboard on your left when you enter the house.

Thank you – A true story

21 Nov
I must be around around 7 or 8 years old when this incident happened. To whosoever i have told this incident/story never believes it is true. As amazing as it may sound, it actually happened, I witnessed it. I have tried not to embellish the story but tell in a manner as i experienced it as a child and the way the memeory still holds it.
One day my brother and I were playing in the garden, when we saw this parrot stuck in the bushes. We tried to help him come out by pushing the branches here and there but somehow he was unable to come out and was very scared. Finally my brother reached inside, gently held the parrot and helped him out. Then we put the bird down thinking he would now fly off. But the bird just sat there looking at us. We tried to cajole him to fly but he just plain refused. So we finally decided we cannot just leave the bird there, we will bring him home to stay with us.
There were two issues one we did not want to keep the bird in the cage (and we hoped he might want/remember to fly at some point of time), secondly we had a dog at home. We were scared that he might harm the bird (with a dog named hiti, short for Hitler, it was a fair assumption). So we marked out the territory for the parrot and the dog so that there were minimal chances for their interactions. When the parrot was in the house, the dog stayed out and the other way round.
So the parrot happily adjusted to the new environ hopping from room to room, eating the food which we offered, and making our lives delightful in the process. He would sleep in our room, was generally quite, we tried to make him speak as we had seen in the movies, never succeeding. Everyone was happy,arrangement was final, we assumed he would be with us forever.
As is with every story, it was not to be. One day we were sitting in the garden, when my father picked up the a parrot and put him on his forearm and said this is how Maharajah Ranjit Singh used to put his hawk. Parrot stayed there for a second and then suddenly he just flew away. We looked at him in his flight, completely taken by surprise. We thought this was the end of the friendship. He was a joy till he stayed with us, sad he had flown away but then we always wanted him to fly, so it was mixed feeling of joy and saddness. I remember crying and clapping at the same time.
This logically should have been the end of the story but it was not to be. Three days had passed, when my sister screamed asking all of us to come out quickly. My father, mother, brother and I ran outside and we saw these hundreds of parrots flying on top of our house and from those this one parrot came down and sat in middle of us. We knew this was our parrot. He stayed with us for ten or fifteen minutes, met us all. We patted him, played with him while none of the other birds came down, they kept circling on top. After which he flew away after saying, I assume, a thank you and the final goodbye. This time all of us just stood there smiling at each other.
He never came back again but has always stayed with us as a shared memory of the family.
Now you know why people never believe it but i hope you would because it is true.