Chennai

The biggest civilization of mosquitoes on earth. Literally it means "paradise on earth" in mosquitan. The firstborn mosquitoes are long gone, no one remembers how they looked or how they came to chennai. Some say they came from across the sea, some say they came from the seeds of gods, some even claim to have found mosquito fossils in the fallen stars. Their origins might be a mystery but today they are the gods of the city.

Owing largely to favorable living conditions, chennai mosquitoes have perfected their way of hunting, setting an example for mosquitoes all over the world. They wait until nightfall when the land is hot and the air is humid and animals everywhere are sweltering madly, dizzy in the suffocating weather; then they calmly dig their holy suckers in the comatose creature. Come morning the mosquitoes become too heavy to fly and you can see crimson hordes walking calmly back for their beauty sleeps made possible by the highly evolved vertebral column (some newborns are even said to possess opposable thumbs).

But today the nights aren't as hot as they used to be. The prophets claim the end of world in 2012. Today the minority of lower creatures called humans are getting organised under the banner of their commander supreme jayalalitha, said to be created from crossbreeding human and hippo, with skin so thick no mosquito can penetrate. Their tamil gods have given them powerful mass destructive weapons; free televisions, free microwaves, insane idlies, lots of temples, southie remakes featuring ajay devgan, lots of temples and tcs. Today each and every mosquito must fight for his honour to save the paradise. The fate of chennai lies on the wings of the common mosquito.

Rain again

Tough times I say. A guy can't even take a peek. Have seen a lot of those punks lose their heads. Sometimes the whole, most of the times just a big chunk. Jhwoop it goes and then the slippery part starts moving and dangles out and then another Jhwoop. It's easiest to simply throw the whole potato out, saves hell of a time, and space too if you get my drift.

And those goddamn asteroids. Got a nasty one on me once. Was there on me the whole month, whole month I say, before I could get the head replaced. T'was one of those pretty ones. One month all I could see was kaleidoscopes and triangles and colors when I tilted my head to the star. Goddamn personal rainbow I had there.

T'was a bright day that one. Think I saw a tumbleweed roll down the end of the road, you know, like in those old movies. Dust sticking to sweat, eyes unblinking, silence on the street, people staring from their windows, horses afraid and then bang bang. Every once in a while you could hear someone explode, some people just can't handle the heat. The janitors would then have to release the wisps to clean up the mess, made the whole place even more stinkier. And slippery too, people would all be tumbling over each other among the wisps. The best way to move was to hop like a packet and hope not to land over somebody's brains, or your own for that matter.

You could smell the madness in the air. Must have been the white dandelions. You had to breath cautiously lest you catch the madness or the madness catches you. Then there was the risk of bumping into dusk, and he would talk and talk and talk and won't let you go off easily, not even for supper. The blue time was especially to be wary of. The atmo would get thinner then, you had to crawl on your belly to get air. It was then that I had caught the asteroid by my head. All the I's would start pouring down and you had to eat them real fast to prevent them from becoming You. Ah, but I was telling you about the bright day.

I had hopped across the milky way and reached the piano. Had gotten tired of all the hopping so went on a bit of a run to shoo the tiredness away but there wasn't much to run into. As I ran I saw it happen. It happened in a mirror and in a moment so I cannot be too sure. There were lots of toads and the smaller toads were standing on the bigger toads and the bigger toads were standing on the smaller ones, as high as the right eye could see. And they all went on croaking around and around and dancing over each other. Then the king frog came and he ate up all the toads and started croaking and dancing and then he ate himself and then nobody was croaking and dancing.

Sometimes things seem to not make any sense at all.

The blue monster

Rumble rumble rumble.

It's big and its blue. However hard you might wish it to be it is not the Tick, though such a thing would have been totally awesome. Neither is it a genetically engineered blue hulk which smells like an aftershave nor is it a blue orangutan which likes eating bright red strawberries and bingo mad angles (nor kurkure as a matter of fact). It doesn't appear to have come from the loch ness for it is not wet nor carries a wet towel. Krypton? No, doesn't fly. Pacific ocean. Too salty. Parachute. Too oily. Root of a quadratic equation. Too complex. Tick. You already said that. Oh sorry. Too literal.

What is it then?

You see it but you cannot see it wholly. A blur, but more than just a blur. Imagination trying to manifest into reality but there's still a mighty lot of work pending. Sometimes you are aware of its presence but sometimes you aren't. Does it mean that sometimes it is there and sometimes it isn't? Is it's existence a disconnected set in the (space?)time continuum? When it plays badminton does it serve a low serve or does it serve the queen of England for many years? Did it watch the India West Indies match? Did it poop on the moon or did the moon poop on it? Poop. Pop. Peep. What a mystery!

What should we do then? Plop.

I have asked the same question again and again but no use. But again speaks only Tamil and again but no use is a quotient space of the first. Pleep. May be the internet connection in my room is too weak or may be constructivism is a view in philosophy according to which all knowledge is constructed in as much as it is contingent on convention, human perception, and social experience. Who knows? Plush.

If there's something strange, in ya naybo'hood, who you gonna call?

Tandurusti ki raksha karta hai life boy, life boy.

Tan ki shakti man ki shakti bournvita.