Whatevaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!! The mindless phrase.

I would like to start this one by quoting Me. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!" Good. That let the frustration out. You should realise how painful it is for me to be typing this article. Because there is only one phrase which can send the hair on my neck flying. A feeling many perceive while listening to the sound of a fork on a blackboard, what i call "the screech of death". And that is the phrase "Whatevaaaaa". If you think this phrase defines the "cool", new generation, then let me tell you IT DOES NOT! How do I know? I belong to the bloody generation.

The truth about Whatevaaaaa is that it stands for acceptance of defeat. But what with such high self standards and levels of self esteem, Nobody accepts defeat with a smile. It has to be with a "whatevaaaa". To all my dear female friends, I politely request you to stop doing this whevaaa thingy if you dont want me to slit your throat with my bare fingers.

The usual whatever is fine. For example: "Oh you know that semi-indonesian naked dancing custom or whatever man!" That is fine usage of a fine word. But this:

Guy: Hey, did you know the rhino's horn is made up of the same stuff as your hair?

GIRL: yeah like, Whadevaa!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaargh" Part 2. Look. I know habits die hard but try replacing the damned phrase with "Oh!" or "Hmmmmm" or a simple "Sorry. Not really interested."

Pray that people do not get motivated by this article. If they do, all you girls pray that you stop the "whadeva" thingy. Otherwise, throat slitting is gonna be the new "anti whadeva" mantra city-wide. Be afraid. Be very afraid!

ATOMIC LOVE STORY!!

Not that I am complaining, but the last thing I think of when you say "Science" is a Proton flirting with an Electron!

Apparently my Chemistry teacher is still not over the “Let there be love” phase from the 70’s. My chemistry teacher today, gave us a briefing about Arhenius and Wohler. Right. So these are guys linked with Organic Chemistry. Both respectable gentlemen I suppose. At least their names sound cool. Take a look at my Chemistry teacher’s take on it. She just portrayed Wohler like a German “dude” with attitude with a capital A. He apparently formulates a cooler theory than Arhenius' to gain acceptance among his peers!

As if that was not enough. What do you have to say about this: “You see, Hydrogen is a very small atom. The smallest, in fact. So it is very "CUTE"(seriously??). And Carbon is big and strong and it makes long chains with its own Carbon friends. Since Hydrogen is so scared of being alone, it decides to stick to Carbon all the time and Carbon thinks Hydrogen is so tiny and cute that it accepts it!!” Screw Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’. This is true love man. I mean… if you are a girl and this tiny whimpy nerd guy who is cute and weak asked you out, would you “share your electrons” with him? Would you?

Check this out. “You eat samosas one day… two day… three day"!! Just when you thought the worst English was that of the security guard at your Father’s office or PrabakerKharre from Gregory David Roberts’ “Shantharam”, you come across My ‘Oh Sooo in love’ Chemistry Teacher! Yeah, so about the samosas… she says you may eat ‘em one day… two day… three day… and then finally, “When you gets the problem no, then what will you do? Chemotherapy!!” Hmm… Strange! All this time I thought it was a simple analogy.

‘Samosas’ : ‘Stomach aches’ : : ‘Cigarettes’ : ‘Chemotherapy’.
Turns out I was wrong. It’s actually vice-versa.

So my Chemistry teacher has now made me go semi-bonkers. Every time I would approach my Honda Activa, I used to remember that Honda add with the fuel efficiency thing where every drop of fuel is beautifully ignited into a round blast of blue and crimson accompanied by a mechanic techno-ish ‘gong’… well you should see it yourself. It’s a cool concept.

Click here to see it. If not, go on reading.

 Now every time I approach my scooter, I imagine the millions of molecules in my fuel tank hitting on each other and romancing off to the moon. Cursed atomic love story. Cursed Chemistry teacher. I never did like the subject much.

Wise Words From Six Feet Under

Here's a nibble for you to bite on. This is a piece of Abstract Writing that I often do:

Pre-script: Dont mind the anti-climaxing in the end. It's a hobby.

Dedicated to everybody who help me focus and write such stuff...

I write this from heaven. To warn all you humans to limit your thoughts to a common level and embrace what great minds have forbidden. Immerse yourself in the honey dew sweetness of materialistic joys and acceptance among your peers. Do not question that which should not be answered. Do not worry yourself with the meaning of life, with the unanswered doubt of the origin of all beings. Forget about the inner meaning to every instance in life. Live superficially. It is true – All the world is indeed a stage and all the people but mere actors. And there are rules to be followed by these actors. If you do not do the above said, you will end up in a parallel universe of useless thoughts with wasted potential and wasted life.

I hereby give you a narration of what inquisition and curiosity can do. Nuclear weapons are not the weapons of extreme destruction. It is the human mind which is the supreme destroyer. There is a section of the mind grave and dark. Reaching into it will bring no ‘good’. Reaching into it will lead you to question everything, even the meaning of ‘good; itself. If goodness is what is accepted by the common, then can bad be good if the common acceptance is manipulated? Then if bad and good are so relative to the sphere of the mind, and minds are different, then isn’t good for one bad for the other?

I always thought a little too much than what I should have. I was what humans call “curious”. Curiosity about the existence of aliens or even the strange phenomena of “sneezing” could have been a pardonable sin. But I sinned in a manner most unforgivable indeed. I was curious about death. I was often vexed with what the grave beyond had in store for us. I wondered how we would feel once the heart would stop beating and the brain stopped processing. I wondered whether we would feel at all. To know the truth and come back life was impossible. And yes, impossible is reality. Therefore there would have to be a selfish motive to kill myself. The motive was to know what happens after one is dead and savour the fact that the knowledge shall perish with me. Many others would surely know the cold truth but none would die with a purpose to now it.

So I did it. On a cold November morning, I slashed my wrist. Deep enough to let the blood squirt and ooze. Not deep enough to kill me instantly. For I believed…No… I “knew” that only a slow transition from the phase of pain to unconsciousness and unconsciousness to death and from death to beyond could teach me what I sought. It’s simple. We have been designed to learn by comparing and comparing is easier if change is vivid and gradual. The transition from pain to unconsciousness went rapidly. The rapidity was unexpected and therefore enjoyable, for anything which is predictable can never be exciting. In unconsciousness I learnt that the motive, though great, was too great to be borne by a mind so ordinary. I was dying. Again the weak thought of public acceptance crept in. people would call it suicide. They would judge me and brand me. Call me a psycho for slashing my wrist, a coward for not facing the world. Therefore I wrote this to tell you that there is motive behind this act of mine and that is a search for knowledge. If you still ridicule me for killing myself, I firstly pity you for not understanding the greatness of the motive. I mourn that the seriousness of the act does not interest you. Secondly, I rejoice and feel happy for you. Because you do not have the burden of a troubled mind seeking the eternal knowledge – the knowledge of death and beyond.

As I was spending the last moments of life I realized that I would never be able to share this experience with anybody ‘living’. I mourned for a second that the living would remain ignorant yet blissful. But in my last seconds of life I realized that what I was doing was definitely not ignorant, as explained by the ‘motive’, and surely not blissful because bliss has always been synonymous with joy to me. And slashing your wrist is no joy. Therefore as I was NOT ignorant and NOT blissful, I was blissfully ignorant.

But even in the last seconds of life, I was prone to the disease of the living – Falsehood. I was wrong. When I did die, I did realize the knowledge of the beyond. And now I share it with you. Sad as it is for the physical form of mine now not existing, it turns out the motive of death was to make a man realize the importance and the beauty of life. Unfortunate, isn’t it? My life was not beautiful because all of it was wasted with the thoughts of the feeling after death and it turns out death is only present to make you realize the importance of life. Ah! Irony - I’ve always been a fan. If you have not, then I pity you again. So at the end of my journey I am only left with pity for the living and extreme joy for them too. Fear for the ones who will do what I did and relief for the ones who will follow my words and limit their thoughts. As I said, great minds asked you to beware of superficial attractions and search for the meaning of ‘the beyond’. But they were useless great minds because they were the minds of the living. For a change, I present to you my own mind. It most definitely is great. And it is not living. It is the mind of a dead man. Therefore it is the wisest mind of all. Wise enough to show you that the most selfish motive of discovering the meaning of death is being written and presented to you thus making the most selfish, the most selfless.

It’s all so confusing and contradictory isn’t it? That’s what I love abou it. It is confusing. It is so hopelessly contradictory. It is exactly why I sit all day in this darned place of eternal joy called heaven and smile and laugh and ridicule everything. You ask me why I mock and ridicule? I’ll tell you why…

Because it’s all so bloody comical!

BLOG NUMERO UNO

It's a scary world out there. Rampant bloggers make a living just by blogging and ad-sensing. I take with me in my pocket, my heart, strong and brave, and a paper bag in case i need to hyper ventilate. Request to all those blogging tyrants out there... politely: Spare me and i will spare you.

My Blog is called the psyche Files. Obvious play on "the X files" which i am proud to say i have never watched. My blogs may include incidents from college, complains about this damned world(Mostly restricting myself to Dear dear Bengaluru), music I would like to share and mostly bits of "abstract write ups" and short stories.

"Abstract writing" is this new Funda i've started. It's similar to abstract art. Fully understood by very few but grazing upon several intriguing aspects.

My language is Usually pretty okay. Bear with typos and spllenigs.