Psych Diaries

You don't see it yet, do you? Y'all bitches more blind than Helen Keller ever was. The climate patterns are changing. Sea levels are rising. Ice cap melting is not a thing of the future. Not anymore. Its already here. And still, the so called "leader of the free world" thinks Global Warming is just a hoax. What a joke. Some say its time to make a difference. They are the hopeful lot. The optimists. Blessed are the ones who see color in everything. I say we are done. We've set the course, and started sailing. And we're way past the point of no return. Adios Amigos. You really  think it matters if Modi wins 2019? The sheer naivety makes me grow jealous. Religion and fanaticism are luxuries only those who eat till they're full can afford. Don't worry. Its all going away. All the differences. All the hatred. We're all going to be very hungry very soon. One religion. Hunger. One salvation. Survival.

In I walk,  dressed in a tailor made dark blue suit. I hang my coat and my hat at the counter. I know it's hard to find a free table at this hour with out a reservation. But to my relief, I find one by the far end of the room, near the window. I didn't like sitting by the window, especially when it is curtained.  But it is a secluded, peaceful spot. Suited my mood, and it didn't seem like I had much of a choice anyway. So I take that seat. "Good evening, monsieur.  How may I be of help? " asks the well groomed waiter. He seems vaguely familiar. Coincidence, may be. I brush the thought aside and I ask for the menu.  He hands me one. I just smile back,  browse through  the menu,  and when I was ready to place my order,  he takes out his pad and a pen,  and starts jotting it down. I rubbed my hands together in excitement. " I think I'll have a movie. Hmm...  Let's say, a thriller? . Hmm. Make it intense. The characters thick

Once a butterfly got so homesick, he wanted to go back in his cocoon. But he couldn't, for his beautiful wings were fairly large. He tried crawling back in, oh try hard he did. His wings hurt, blocked his way. So obsessed, so desperate he got, that he chewed his wings off. He wasn't a butterfly anymore. Nor was he a caterpillar. But he was back in his cocoon, Never to get back out again.

I follow the trail of blood drops, like he followed bread crumbs in that fairy tale.  I know I can't save anyone.  Nor can I solve any crime.  I'm too shy for any of that. But I need to know, like the cat that got itself killed. It is getting late.  Dark. But I know I'm getting close. The droplets here haven't even dried yet. Yes.  I'm close. I'll just have a look,  and rush back home. Just in time for the soccer match. I turn a curve, and see her walking ahead, blood dripping at every little step. She holds her dress up her thighs, and has a wide stepped gait. Blood seemed to seep from within, high up her thighs somewhere. Just another rape then. I feel my curiosity fading. I almost stop my pursuit and turn around,  but then I see something hanging between her legs. I can't go back now. I have to know. It's true what they say.  The curious cat does have nine lives. I quicken my pace.  I have her at an arms distance now, walk

There was a time during our final year study leave, when I thought all hope was lost., a time when I had no incentive to live. It was then that one of my friends came up with a plan. A plan that gave me something to look forward to. My light at the end of the tunnel. 13 people, 21 days, India. I know it is difficult to compile the experience of a lifetime into just a few sheets of paper. And hence, I donot attempt that. This here, as the name suggests, is an honest attempt of an amateur at preserving atleast some glimpses of those 21 days of travel, 21 days of knowing India, 21 days of being free. A backup,  just in case my memory fail. The incidences mentioned here are not in chronological order, not in alphabetical order, or not in order of preference. These are completely random, just 'coz that is the way i like it. I do hope you will pardon me. Chapter 1 Shit happens I was always told it was pretty difficult to hit a moving target. This fact was proved to

Chapter 1. SOCIAL NETWORKING Facebook had long ceased being just a time pass for me. It was an addiction. Every 'like' i could gather, every comment that 'tagged' me, was my food, my elixir. Those were the days when i thought impressing girls in facebook was the easiest way to get laid. I tried every trick known to man to be impressive. I uploaded photos, i stole funny tweets and posted it as my own, and the like. No, i didn’t mean to impress any special person. That’s the point. I had no such special person. And I desperately needed one. And hence, all my efforts were addressed 'To whomsoever it may concern' . Thus the web laid, I sat at its centre like a spider, ready to pounce at the first sign of a prey. Patiently wait, i did. Hours became days, and days turned into weeks. I got not one positive response. I was losing hope, getting frustrated, and was about to smash my computer screen in. Then, at that very moment, a tiny red button on the top