There were worms in the Lychee. As I await the impending doom, I pen down an inspirational poem.
My quest to become healthier is being met with minor road blocks. Little distractions that nudge me into the path of doom. I resist. At 1 am , I went for the Lychee, instead of the chocolate fudge cookies and the tea cake. I beat the sugar, artificial sugar I mean. But all was in vain, for when I opened the thy prickly bosom (too sexual. lets tone it down), out came a can of worms (poetic prowess right there). They jumped in glee, thinking its another host, but I cut one in half with a mere Lychee branch. I disintegrated my enemy. I screamed. I looked at the cookies again. Alas! it was 2 am. Papa don’t eat snacks after 10 pm, unless its from nature’s lap. That’s the rule now. I want to live. So I looked up at the sky (I was in my apartment, but you get the intent) and prayed. I prayed to the midlife crisis demon. No one answered. Abrupt ending. Pure class.
Every time the weather people get the weather wrong, I put some money in the weather jar, so that one day, I’ll have enough money to fund an efficient weather forecast system. It will involve so many unemployed B-tech engineers, stretched over hundreds of miles over the mountains, wearing raincoats, and clinging on to dear life. I call it the WG system, or the Wall of Engineers. So many families will live and work at this wall. Everything from cigarettes to quantum computers will be hand-delivered to these Engineers by Zomato delivery agents, because those guys can get anywhere. In fact, we should all stop calling ambulances. I dare you, call an ambulance, and order a pizza at the same time, lets see which one gets home first.
The scariest thing about bullying is that you don’t know you’re doing it
One of my favorite comedians, someone that gives me joy on a daily basis, is actively being bullied, threatened and pushed down into a spiral of depression by his peers. Bullying is a menace because, not only does it destroy someones life, but it also takes away any good that’s left in them. Knowing what someone is deeply sensitive about, and using that against them to make them feel bad, is pure evil. People say, report the bullying immediately, take action against it, that is the best way to control it, and this and that. Everyone knows it doesn’t work like that. In most cases, it’s only going to get worse. The frightening thing is, the bullying usually comes to a halt when you bully back. I say ‘frightening’ because this ends up creating more bullies. It turns good people bad. Its like a cancer in the workplace, in homes, in schools, in friend groups, it’s everywhere. I have been bullied. I have bullied. I don’t bully anymore.
If you know anyone who engages in bullying, stop that shit.
My belly has gotten to the point where, if I put my hand underneath it, my belly flows over it, like a protective sheath. It’s dangerous. It’s a problem, but I can’t stop eating Jim Jams at night. Why does the world do this to me? Where is the silver lining? The only way I’m getting to the silver lining is if its on a cake. Sugar is the killer. But sugar is so good. Conflicting thoughts.
Yesterday, I tried Basanti Pulao, and get this, it was a Pulao and Chicken Kosha combo that I might never forget throughout my life. I call it lifetime foods. My introduction to Basanti pulao is like a romantic love story. Basanti Pulao (sometimes called Bengali Sweet Pulao) is rice cooked with ghee, sugar and Saffron. Put in some cashew nuts and resins and you’ve got yourself magical yellow rice. I want to make it clear that the rice by itself is a treat, but if you get bored, might as well eat the chicken. I have not tasted chicken this good in my life. IN MY LIFE. First of all, the chicken looks black. That’s never a good sign, but little did I realize that it was the result of complex culinary arts. Whoever made this, I need to give you a shout out. Come do my podcast. I could talk about food all day!
As the days go by, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to meditate. The mind is getting restless. It’s becoming more and more difficult to tame. Today however, I fell asleep while trying to meditate. It’s like I put so much effort into trying to focus that I got tired, and fell asleep. It’s always nice to wake up from a nap, and realize it’s only been an hour or 15 minutes. It’s not fun when you wake up and half your life is over.
Now, the internet defines ERP therapy as something very comfortable and soothing, but in reality it is not. I know there’s steps to it, but it still seems weird. So, for anyone who doesn’t know what ERP is, it stands for Extremely Radical Pornography. JK. It’s a kind of therapy that exposes people to their fears in a safe environment, and this apparently fixes them. When my therapist told me to do the one thing that made me uncomfortable, my initial reaction was to demand my money back (with interest). It would have been very funny to see how that played out, but no, I chose to remain calm, and do whatever she said because she’s the one with the degrees and the note pad, and I’m the one who’s afraid of talking to people. So far, it’s been going without any major issues, except every time I do the ERP, I feel like I’m punching a demon in the face, and how long can I keep punching a demon in the face? If horrors movies have taught me anything, it’s that the only way to get rid of a demon infestation is to invite a priest over for coffee, and stop thinking rationally.
Some time ago, my psychologist suggested that I go visit some place nice, possibly with friends. Winter was just beginning to recede. It was a nice time, when the weather was not too cold or too shitty. We took a train from Sealdah. Papa likes old buildings, and this trip was filled with them. Old houses, mansions, places of worship, and trees. The place- Bansberia
Man! I could sit underneath a tree for hours. That’s a stretch. Maybe 20 minutes.
I could sit there, and just loose myself in emptiness. Natural, peaceful emptiness. You see the birds fly away, and you start to think, what the hell have you been doing for the last six years of your life. Was Michael Jackson really a pedophile? Will they reboot Johnny Quest?
Then we saw some buildings. Some of them, we couldn’t get into. Some of them let us see just the outside. Some of them, we wouldn’t dare try to enter because… well see for yourself
It’s quite certain that if you enter a place like this, you’ll probably end up leaving with a story to tell, just might not be a PG-13 one. The gates were closed, and there was a scary “no trespassing” sign on the gate. Plus the locals gave us weird looks. Not scary enough for ya? Take a look after I add a filter.
As tempting as it was, we left it.
By the end of the trip, I came to the realization that I need more of this in my life. I don’t feel like my mind has been cleared, but I feel like things are settling down. I am reminded that there’s more to life than money and computers. Oh and we ate this thing, I don’t know what else to call it but an upgraded roti. Just magical.
My life’s not going the way I want, I’ve got all this anxiety and finally this happens. I get bananas with little seeds in them. A BANANA with a fucking SEED in it. Can you believe this shit? At first I thought it was a bug or something, and I spat it out but then it kept happening, and I was like “this is a sign. This has got to be a sign”. This is like a story straight out of the bible, where a wealthy king disobeyed God’s word, and then he got a banana with a seed in it, and that was it, his whole family died. His dick became flaccid, the water supply ran out, it was the end of the world. That’s how you know it’s the end of the world, it’s when you bite into a seed from a fucking banana.
I’m going to be big some day. I know it. I’ve got an average cock, but I’m gonna make it big (in life). It’s a gut feeling. It’s hard to explain. I see a vision with me on stage, and people screaming in the audience. I don’t know what it is for though. It might be a live hanging. That is a possibility. But that’s ok. It’s still entertainment.
I was overcharged for my grocery delivery. Lets go.
Big Basket is the name of the app and overpricing is their game.
A Tata Enterprise they said, but showed no honor to the name
Alright, enough of this poetry shit. They charged me Rs 719 for cooking oil, bros. For three fucking litres of cooking oil. I might have to sell my house now, if this is the way things are going. I needed it quick, in a panic I clicked the thing and boom, seven hundred gone. Now, why did I decide to try this app? Lets get some back story. I was living a happy life with my Easy Day grocery store, with my free deliveries and discounted prices, when fucking Amazon and Reliance decided to come ruin all of it. If you don’t know, there’s a whole battle happening between these companies, google it, it’s all over the news, lets just say the company that owns it is not having a great time. So I decide to try the new modern way of buying groceries, which is an app. Lo and behold, when I open the app they ask me if I want to get my stuff delivered in 20 minutes for free! It’s like Domino’s on steroids. I was amazed at how fast they manged to pick all that shit up in 20 minutes and bring it over to my apartment. But here’s the catch. Not only was everything overpriced, but I found that the sticker price on the can of cooking oil was way lower than what I was charged. I thought to myself, should I let this go? Absolutely not. The girlfriend just left yesterday. I’ve got shitloads of time on my hands. I’ve sent a text to their online customer service that still hasn’t replied. I get it, it’s a Sunday. People need to go to church, wack off, spend time with their family, I understand. But if I don’t get a resolution by tomorrow, I am… I will….I’m gonna… I’ll use that expensive cooking oil like a logical person.
If I could mould my anxiety into a shape or form, it would look like phlegm from the throat, but solid, like crystallized, and it would be big, like the size of a chest. And, it would pulsate. Little tiny spikes would emerge from it. This is the thing that’s consuming me. Every decision in my life is being controlled by fear. This is ruining my life. It’s easy to understand how this works as a vicious cycle, when the problem itself is creating the problem. But I have to deal with it. I was born with it. I will tame it. If that means hours of therapy, then be it. I have to beat this thing. It is consuming me. I want to be free. I want to feel happy again.