• Fiction

    I Wanted To Write A Story

      Yesterday, I wanted to write a story. I actually sat down and ate my fingers absent-mindedly until I came up with the plot.By the time I did, the blood was flowing so badly I had to tie up my hand. Yesterday I wanted to write the story of a man who killed his daughter. He would meet her mother, his wife , in a bakery where they both worked. She would be smallish, cute and needy of affection and he would want to take care of her. They would consummate their feelings behind the rusty shed, where general washing of pans took place. This shed would be the same…

  • Life

    Why We Hate Smug People.

    Smug: having or showing an excessive pride in oneself or one’s achievements. Ever felt like wiping a superior look off someone’s face before? I recently became very interested in reasons why people are smug. It beat me, to be honest and it was a tad alien to me. If I do say so myself. This may or may not be because of the looming presence of Impostor Syndrome which shadows my every move. Dare I say that I was interested in this because I am a teeny weeny bit envious of the ability to reach a heightened sense of accomplishment-something quite elusive to me? Dare I? I realized soon that…

  • Personal

    2015 – A Pseudo Burlesque

    Author’s Note: I won’t bore you to death. I do not promise. When I met 2015 on 1st January 2015, I thought he looked particularly glum. He was the kind of guy who gave no indication of what he was thinking so you can imagine how anxious I was.  “Oh no” I wept “Am I really stuck with you for a (full) year?” “Yes” 2015 nodded slowly. “We in this for the long haul babe”. He smiled a little then, showing a hint of perfect teeth. I sighed. Perhaps there was yet hope. We began on a skeptical note, eyeing each other from across the room. “What you got?” I asked suspiciously.…

  • Life

    That sweet game

    “What came over me? No. Seriously, something did come over me”. “The problem with me is you.Really it is.” “I didn’t know what I was doing.” “It was the devil! No, God!” “He gave me an F”   We are familiar with that part of us that relegates blame to some seen or unseen third party right? Perfect. I want to do a little talk on it. As some of my more assertive friends would say, ‘let us thrash this matter’, or at least, let us try to. There’s almost always no harm in trying out stuff (unless by trying out stuff, you mean trying out poisonous substances, or trying…