The epiphany

He seethed in anger - at wrongdoings, unfairness, power plays, character assassinations, selfishness and viles of the world. 

He didn't know why he felt so intensely. Sometimes, he wished he didn't. Maybe it was handed over to him through generations - the sense of morality and justice. Yeah, that was it. He had been taught to be nice, to be good, to do right. And as he grew up, the bubble burst. He thought since he was playing fair, everyone else will too. How silly of him. 

He sat in his office cubicle and wondered about how his conniving colleagues could even sleep at night, how his boss could selfishly choose a project that would show him in good light, how his ex-girlfriend could take his money and squander it on some other guy. All they care about is themselves and they get everything they want. He JUST didn't get it!

Does God never look at all of this? He had heard theories and stories of karma and justice. All nonsense, he screamed in his mind. Nothing ever happens to these $@#&#@$. Maybe even he should become like them - heartless and manipulative. Maybe even plan to have them killed or kidnapped and tortured. He obviously wouldn't do it himself but he had heard that there are many people who do this for a living. Even Lord Krishna had said that evil has to be destroyed. Actually Krishna had said that He will come back when evil floods the Earth. Considering He hasn't made it yet or probably has forgotten, someone has to do His work. 

Lost and tired, he opened the drawer stocked with 28 bars of Bounty and chomped on one. Bounty always made him feel better. He looked at his watch and realized it was time to go home. 

Home...home is where the heart is, or such was the belief. His heart wasn't in his home either. The constant fights between his wife and his mother drove him crazy. Sometimes, he wished he could do away with them too. Or simply, do away with himself. Wouldn't that be easier? If he wouldn't exist, nothing would bother him, right?

He complained of a headache to his wife and mother and lay down on his bed. He prayed to God to help him, find a way out of this mess. As he drifted into a dream, he heard his wife's sobs, his mother's complaints, his colleagues' cribbing, his boss' insecurity, his ex-girlfriend's fears. 

When we woke up, he found himself feeling strangely at peace. And there popped into his mind, Hercule Poirot's words:

"God doesn't need to punish us, Ms. Barton; We are too busy punishing ourselves."

God had answered his prayer.

Hot ass!

There are many quirky things that a person does; I am no exception. And often times, I forget the consequences of what I have done. 

On a sultry Tuesday evening with the entire city facing a power outage, my mum brought out a set of safely, stored candles (maybe from my 5th birthday) to place in each of the rooms.

I was happily watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets for the 128th time and didn't notice the candle till a cockroach ran across it. One of my personal tasks at home is to find cockroaches and terminate them. You must know that I am very responsible about my tasks. I turned my attention and the light of the candle to chase the @#$@#$ cockroach down.

Disappointed, I went back to find out who the heir of Slytherin was and found the idea of writing my diary, in the candlelight very intriguing. And there I was scribbling furiously in my diary - the ramblings of mind, flowing through the ink of my Sheaffer fountain pen. Even an expert rambler needs a break; I did too! As I paused to recharge, the meagre breeze flipped the pages to reveal some unspeakable expletives. 

And while Harry was speaking parseltongue to open the Chamber of Secrets, my mind opened a door to a brilliant idea. What if I burnt the "dirty" pages in darkness - a beautiful metaphor of destroying negativity. 

I stuffed the fruit from the bowl into my mouth, tore up a dirty page, put it inde the bowl and set it on fire. My heart filled with glee as I saw the yellow-green flames eat up the page. I immediately covered the bowl with another page to not let the smoke spread throughout the house. I was successful. Encouraged, I set fire to 2 more pages in the bowl. This time, the smoke travelled to the nose of my grandmother, who promptly pointed out that something was burning. I am very sharp in making up things and I told her that the smell is from a nearby construction site.

This little experiment had charged me so much that I decided to burn a bunch of papers, ANYHOW! I decided to shift the task to my bathroom. Armed with a matchbox and the sheaf of dirty papers, I locked my bathroom, set fire to one of the pages and threw it into the toilet pot. And the next page and the next. The bathroom filled with smoke and my eyes teared up. The pot started turning black as flames erupted. I started feeling apprehensive and flushed the flaming pages. 

I sprayed half a bottle of air freshener and turned on the exhaust. I came out of the bathroom, feeling satisfied and victorious. Another thing I am very good at, is pretending. So I pretended that nothing happened at all. After 30 min of killing time, I had to rush to attend to the call of nature. 

As I sat to relieve myself, I saw stars. With the searing imprint on my bottom, I had become a hot-ass, apart from being a smart-ass!