It's A Beautiful World

"...there are two kinds of angry people - explosive and implosive. Explosive is the type of individual you see screaming at the cashier for not taking his coupon. Implosive is the cashier who remains quiet day after day and then finally shoots everyone in the store."

- Jack Nicholson as Dr Buddy Rydell in Anger Management (2003)

Agony, anger, annoyance, anxiety, apathy, apprehension, awe, boredom, certainty, cheerfulness, compassion, concern, confidence, contempt, courage, depression, disappointment, disgust, distraction, doubt, embarrassment, empathy, enthusiasm, envy, excitement, fear, frustration, greed, grief, guilt, happiness, impatience, indifference, irritation, jealousy, loneliness, love, lust, panic, peace, pleasure, pride, relieved, revenge, sadness, satisfaction, surprise, suspicion, sympathy, thrill.

Anger.

You sleep till late in the morning, there is someone to nagging you not to and asking you to wake up on time. You want to be lazy, there is somebody asking you not to be. You want to be alone, there are pricks who somehow always know just when it is time when you need it most and intrude in on you just then. Phone calls when you don't want them, text messages when you're least interested. Visitors when you least care. There is always somebody who is "in town" who you have to visit, somebody alwaying "needing you" by them, a wedding, a funeral, a get-together, a break-up, something or the other. Everybody expects you to be a "people person". You are expected to be nice and polite and all that shit.

Truth is, we live in a fake world. Everything is fake. The smile on everybody's face, the happiness, and the so-called I-am-happy-for-you-s, the concern that everybody has gotten so perfect at portraying that we ourselves forget it is but ersatz. Nobody, and I mean N-O-B-O-D-Y, cares a fuck about what happens to another as long as one's personal means are met. People make friends just to be sure THEY are not lonely, people marry so that they have somebody to "support" them - whatever that means. This whole concept of society is a big fat lie, all people are interested in is to be sure that their interests are protected. Parents want childrens for their old age, and the children rightly live up to that by dumping the parents just-in-time. The Toyota Way. People get pets for selfish motives, all those liars who say they earn for their "loved ones" really care only as much as a earthworm does about the world econommy. People fear "God" not because they care for anybody's good, but because they care more about themselves. There is a ulterior motive behind everything that people do. And the way we are going, I don'e any longer see any fault with being that way. It's like if you don't mirror, you get f-ed, figuratively and otherwise.

And inspite of all this one is expected to be nicey-nicey and "good" and courteous and like the fart of a dung beetle, when all you may care about is to be sure to plant a strong upheave one of the lower limbs somewhere by the pelvis of whoever expects you to be so.

Behind their masks, people are full of arrogance, backbiting, narrow-mindedness, rudeness, selfishness, superficiality and treachery. It has become very simple to tell real compassion apart, simply because it doesn't exist anymore. It's gone with the dodos.

I am tired of being the cashier, I've had enough. Give me a gun, I want to shoot you. But before that, I must go find Lou Zer and Jack Mehoff. Till next time, this is Deja Moo - The Cow's Opinion.

Children - Little, Beautiful Children

They're okay while they're small. Or little, if that's the word. When they can't speak, or make any noise - when they're mute. When they're like these stuffed toys you get in the stores that you can hug and sleep. Knowing happily that no matter what they'll never speak and that you'll never EVER wake up wet. But these good days with happy hours don't usually last long.

Before you know it, they learn to speak. They scream and shout and blow your head off. They make you wish you were born deaf, or atleast that you lost your ears. Then they cry and throw tantrums. And the worst part of it, is you don't even get to figure why. They pee and poop and puke and dirty everything that they lay their hands - or any other body part - on. As if things weren't messy enough, their noses start flowing like the Brahmaputra. BTW, and FYI, eventhough the Ganges is the longest flowing river in India, the Brahmaputra displaces the most water. Although its Indian-ness is debateable because it flows through more than one country and it even has its mouth in Bangladesh. Anyhow, this is not a Geography lecture. So I was saying, there noses flow like the Brahmaputra. With every exhale, the bubble builds up and appears as if about to burst, and with the ensuing inhale it gets sucked in and the flip-flapping sound it makes with the walls of the nostrils.. it makes you want to throw up. Argh!

They're so dirty and messed up, keeping them clean is the task of 8 pairs of hands at work 60 hours a day. And yet, no matter how clean one tries to keep them they always manage to dirty themselves up in less then a nanosecond. It's like they train themselves in the 'Art of Dirtying' for the nine months while they're in the womb. From their expertise, I can say it must be one-helluva training centre. Er, do you think this centre also imparts training in the art of.. you know.. ahem.. okay, I'm digressing now. Back on track, back on track!

Urgh! Dirty little.. little thing like things.

Then you have to admit them in schools, given them "education". WHY?! There's that rule of halves that some asscrack came up with, right? Something that goes you forget half of blah and half of blah, half of blah and blah and blah and blah blah blah. So, then.. W-H-Y? Hell, I hate those know-it-all teachers in the schools who behave as though they're authors of 'How To Raise The Perfect Thing' and as though they actually know anything about raising these things. Truth is, they know jack. Dogs and other-gender-of-dogs! And the kind of dosh it takes to get one of these things admitted in these self proclaimed "temples of wisdom", what about that? Where does one get that kind of dough from, do the F-tards sitting behind the big desks even wonder? B-tards! Temples with entry fee.

It's not like the things give a shit. You were, and probably are, a thing too, yes? Did you give a damn? How muxh of your "school-time" did you spend "learning"? Anyway, who gives a F? Why should you? F you, why should I?

Then these things grow up and have whims of their own. They haves likes and dislikes and shit. Dipshits want to be some loser independent things, they want freedom of speech, freedom of expression and crap like that when probably what they deserved was to be wasted in the bathroom or on a sanitary pad. Wonder where they learn the terminology from. Bloody TV and media.

And they grow up and want to have things of their own. As if there weren't enough things around. Thanks, but no thanks. Here in our so-called maadhar-land, we are well over a 100 million strong and growing. We've run out of space. Of course, a few lucky farts still live on easy street but barring them, we're more than we can be.

Okay, enough of it for today. So.. don't fret, get a pet. Yes, bring home a pet instead. Like I did when I got Zatarra.

Till next time - this is Deja Moo, The Cow's Opinion.

Deja Moo - The Cow's Opinion

It's been a while now since I "blogging". Started it enthusiastically with enough persuasion from Fazin but then I realised although I had these ideas in my head I couldn't word them. Either, they weren't ideas at all or they weren't strong enough for me to stand by them. A psychiatric would call it the W.I.M.P. syndrome but I'd like to believe otherwise. Or perhaps these ideas, I thought were so unlike the "me" I revealed that I was way too sceptical to speak of them.

So, whatever the reason, I started out with one post and the number has gotten any bigger ever since. So now, I have decided that I shall quit "blogging". (See, Mr Psychiatrist that's not the characteristic of a W.I.M.P.?)

Now, that doesn't mean that there shall be no more posting at this blog but just that I shall be passing the baton to my very good friend, my alter ego and my confidante - The Cow.

Gentlemen and gentlemen, I give you Deja Moo. Cheers.