purplefish: December 2009

Monday, December 28, 2009

GOODBYE BLUE SKY

Goodbye Cruel World

I'm leaving you today.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Goodbye all you people,

There's nothing you can say,

To make me change my mind.

Goodbye. -Pink Floyd

I always thought I would die a spectacular death. Something extraordinary. Out of the blue. Something which would catch people’s attention. Something which I was not able to do while alive.

But now am dead and nothing of how it happened matters to me. All what matters is the freedom of my bruised and baffled soul.

I do not blame anyone for my death. I am entirely responsible for it. Death is my creation. For twenty-seven wretched years I have dreamt of achieving success and fame and a little happiness for me and my parents. But I have been unable to do so. I have lived an eccentric & wasted life and I have disappointed a lot of people. But I do not feel sorry for it. I lived and I died with no regrets.

Do not call me a quitter. I am not.

I just got bored of life. Nothing interests me anymore.

Take care people.

praneeth(09/11/2012)

THE HUMAN CANNONBALL

It was only when I sat down did I realise how tired I actually was and before I could give my ageing body some rest, Nikky came running, “It’s starting in five minutes...The Human Cannonball! Let’s go let’s go let’s go let’s go!!” and she dragged my hand leading me through beautiful Arab women veiled away from prying eyes, skin baring Europeans, a pair of unusually tall Filipinos, moustachioed hair-combed dark Indians and a bunch of bubble-blowing foot-stamping children to a huge gathering below a thin hung up net.

I had come or rather been sweet-talked coaxed persuaded by Nikita Hempton; my wild-haired child-brained friend, to ‘The Global Village’ which is a three-month long festival happening every year in Dubai. Having spent a little more than three excruciating hours of Giant-wheel rides, painful-to-watch cultural dance-shows and most importantly, shopping through the various pavilions of all the participating countries buying stuff for Nikky till I exhausted my cash & credit card limit (She did say she will pay me back later which I highly doubt), all I wished for was to go home and sleep.

As they played ‘Shoot to thrill’ by AC/DC, Nikky explained: “You see, the guy will get into that cannon placed over there and then they will shoot him a hundred fifty feet in the air and then he will fall in that net hung over there.”

“What’s the big deal about it?” I asked.

“Shut-up-and-listen!” She said, “...and this is the first time he’s performing in the middle-east so I have to see it. Don’t know whether I’ll get to see this again.” And then she offered me her green candy floss to pep me up a bit.

“Where did you get this?” I asked. “Isn’t candy floss supposed to be pink?”

“Shut-up-and-see!”

The emcee introduced the balding but volitorial Chinese guy who was going to play out this death defying act. As he prepared to address the spectators, a litter of children brushed through Nikky and me holding a bunch of smiley-faced coloured helium-filled balloons. That’s the problem with children. You ought to give them way. Kids will spit at you and you can’t do anything about it. If you beat them you will be berated by everyone and if you complain, they will retort, ‘But they are only children.’ So I feigned defeat and tried to find a clear line of vision through the air-heads. I saw then, the Chinese guy, as he snoached about his travails around the world, with a clear sense of discomfort on his pale leathered face.

To get a more distinct understanding about his woes, I fine-tuned my mind to his inner mind and it was then that I discovered to my amusement that he was suffering from acidity ever since eating one-too-many schwarmas that evening. As deep unrest grew within him, I couldn’t help but stomach the similitude that here was he-‘the real human cannonball’.

He positioned himself inside the cannon and prepared himself for his launch. As soon as the mob chanted ten nine eight seven six five four three two one, he exploded in the air with a loud bang thus scaring the kid in front of me who let go his balloon and ran back to find solace in his mommy’s arms. Now the balloon having been freed and with a destiny of its own, travelled high in the air right in the trajectory of the propelled Chineseman. The two met at the highest point of the eclipse and this is where things got interesting.

The human cannonball collided with the balloon, mid-air, and due to the sudden shock of the unexpected encounter, he was lightened off his internal misery. The sound of his breaking wind was masked by the equally loud pop of the exploding balloon thus saving the now-relieved acrobat some dignity while the stunned crowd below looked on with disbelief at his marvellous feat of bursting a balloon in the air. As soon as he landed safely in the net, he was acknowledged with a thunderous round of applause by the astonished crowd. It was the first time I saw the great entertainer smile since evening.

I casually put a hand around Nikky and told her that this was indeed the greatest show I had ever seen. While she, visibly irritated with the foul smell which was now slowing enveloping the air around, brushed off my arm off her shoulders and fumed, “Shut-up-and-let’s-go!”

Saturday, December 19, 2009

BETA THETA (BEAT DEATH)

Death awaits me
And what an irony!
I know him coming
And wouldn’t concede victory.
For they say for life without strife,
It isn’t only about winning.
I encompass the universe
In my palms, death is my doing.
As blood finds its new path
Through my slit artery.
In your face death! In your macabre face!!
I fuck you before you can fuck me.

A SERIES OF MISADVENTURES OF A PERVERTED MIND – PART 1

EPISODE 1: THE MAGIC SUNGLASSES

Fact no. 1: Kanda increases your sexual appetite.

In his bathroom, Max Mathan winks at his reflection in the mirror. His index finger of his right hand digs deep in his thumb-sized right nostril in exploration for that evasive piece of silver gloop. Satisfied, he applies a generous portion to his yet boyish moustache to get the perfect Devil’s horns.

‘Should I? Shouldn’t I? Shouldn’t? Should?’ He wonders and in the end leaves without washing his hands.

While in the elevator, he amuses himself with the fan switch; onoffonoffon...off...onoffonoffon, much to the chagrin of the cheek-moled lady with the tiny Chihuahua besides him.

“What a bitch!” He blurts out loud.
“‘cuse me!” She says visibly annoyed. “He’s a male.”
“I know!” Max says and walks out.

Outside the sun is up and bright and the world is flooded with light. Max whips out his X-Ray Magic Sunglasses and puts it on. And then he sees what he certainly did not expect to see: The traffic pandu’s surprisingly clean shaved testicles, the beggar-woman’s tasteless sagging breasts, the virginal rumps of a bunch of chaste nuns and a hunk of meat hanging by the ever-smiling postman. Whoa! Who’s got mail?

Fact no. 2: Eating one normal sized banana gives you enough stamina for a good ninety minutes strenuous activity.

At the Club, people dance drink dance and make merry. The inebriated sounds of falsities fill the smoked air around. While our Maxie Boy strains his eye balls through his magic glares and feels a certain pulsating strain in his pants. He has never felt so good. He has never seen such beautiful sights before. Women walk by him; naked as the day they were born. The magic glasses are sure worth more than what he got them for, wonders Max and then more letches grins stares...

Well, how he got his special magic glasses is another story in itself and will follow later in the series.

Max finds a nice cosy corner and orders a large vodka-red bull. His right hand slips down the table as he unzips and takes out his male weapon. He knows that the public exposure will be downright demeaning but he can’t risk an explosion in his pants. He soaks in the sights as his movements gain momentum.

Fact no. 3: Smoking in no way decreases your member’s length.

And then he sees her...standing at the far end with her lovely heart-shaped ass (which will make Kim Kardashain kill herself in jealously) turned towards him. Max can’t see her face but he feels so turned on that his heart beats amplify and his pupils dilate...and something else grows larger and larger till he feels he cannot constrain it in the confined space under the table...and then she turns around.

And it is exactly at this precise moment that our hero, Max Mathan notices, through his X-Ray Magic Sunglasses, hanging between her legs a piece of meat that would make even the ever-smiling postman frown. And in the spur of second as he is about to cum due to the shock, Max in self-consciousness tries to zip back his pants and then...uh-huh, while in his hurriedness gets his enlarged member stuck in his bronze zipper.

Fact no. 4: Anal-sex is illegal and punishable by law in India.

Later, Paswinder Singh aka Pussy, the pot-bellied but short-tempered Sardar-watchman outside the Club claimed that he had never heard anyone in his six year service yelp so obstreperously over the Club-thumping music.

Fact no.5: It’s every man’s fantasy to be a lesbian.

At the hospital, the doctors; who had put on their masks because it was impossible to stop grinning at Max, discharged him after just a little bit of snip-snap.

Though Max Mathan was fortunate enough to not suffer disembodiment, the scars of the incident will remain fresh in his perverted mind for a long long time to cum...sorry come.

THE CHRISTMAS LIST

Since I have been such a well-behaved boy for the last 33 years of my life without once asking Santa Claus for anything, I thought this year would prepare a top ten list of things I so desire.