Genuine Happiness

"You know what the funny thing about life is… it gives to you what you give to it.
Smile when you’re sad, it wont come easy, but just try.
It will seem fake and unreal but just do it.
Soon you will begin not to notice the fakeness.
Then one day, you will look back at a picture of yourself. It would be a moment where you would have been giving one of those fake smiles.
And you will realize that it was a genuine one.
You will realize that you meant to smile at that point of time.
You will realize that you don’t have any reason to not smile anymore."
Easy for little miss sunshine to say. I sniggered as I realized what utter bull-crap those words were.
I’m sure this ‘I have a rich daddy’ wasn’t dying under a mountain of debt.
Her ‘My husband is my slave’ marriage wasn’t going down the drain.
It was safe because it wasn’t coloured with that muddy emotion called love. Not from the both of them and not from a third party.
She didn’t have to go back home and worry about who was going to cook the meal.
The only hardship in her life was to figure out what jewellery to wear while she doles this load of crap out to sods like me.
As I walked out of the building, I saw her walking across.
I saw him come out of the dark alley shadows.
I stood there and watched him take the pearls off her.
I stood there and watched him take the pearly shine off her.
I stood there.
I smiled.
It was genuine.
.

Perspective

Like all good stories this one starts with a once upon a time. Well, once upon a time there was a mouse. Since nobody likes mice in general, no one liked this mouse either. It wasn’t his fault that he was born a mouse. It wasn’t his fault that he liked to nibble on other people’s stuff. He was just made that way. The sad thing was that people didn’t see the good things in him. For instance, he was always game when humans wanted to play chase. He always wagged his tail in complete bliss when they dropped crumbs for him on the floor. Nobody saw all of that.On one fine day, the mouse decided to change things. He decided he would be really nice to them and he would make them like him. He wanted to make friends with them. So he made this list – of the things that he thought they didn’t like about him.(He was a very organized mouse). The list goes something like this
–My colour
My whiskers (because they twitch)
The fact that I am scared of them

Obviously, like all of us do, he was looking at things only from his perspective. Anyway, the solutions were easy to find. He painted himself a pretty shade of red, trimmed his whiskers and went and parked himself on the bed of the ten year old child in the house.When the child awoke from his slumber he saw these sharp teeth grinning at him thru a mass of what looked like skin and blood.I think I heard the shriek all the way in India. The poor mouse scampered away. The pretty colour hadn’t worked. The charming smile hadn’t worked. What did these humans want? Maybe a present for the lady of the house seemed like a good idea.
So he went out and found the biggest, juiciest cockroach that he could find. Ecstatic with his find, he quickly scampered back inside where she was cooking in the kitchen. He stood up on his hind legs, with the cockroach in his front paws and nibbled softly on her exposed leg.She turned down and looked at him. Surprise, horror and then plain fear crossed her face within a space of seconds. Without thinking, she started to pour the hot oil on the mouse.
Now mice are nothing if not quick. He got a little burnt but he got away.He was sad. Really sad. His skin was marked. He had been burnt and his confidence had been destroyed. The delicious cockroach was gone too.Shit, it never makes sense to be nice to people in this wretched selfish world.

Games

“It’s raining.” She said.Ya? Really? I thought that god was crying at what he had done. That’s what I wanted to say. But I didn’t. All I said was something that vaguely sounded like,“mm.”

“I am feeling cold.” She said. The whine in her voice had gone up 10%. I knew it was only going to get better. So there came my next response, loaded with the care and concern that I knew she wanted.“mmm.” I said.

“I think I am going to get sick. Won’t you get me some hot water? Pleeeease, darling.” She said. Flash of reality darling, you ARE sick. I would have loved to get you all the water in the world so that you could only drown in it. I would happily get you a glass too, just that my happiness would be immense, if I could add a wee bit of arsenic to it too.“Sure.” I said.

Actually since I am practicing the art of positivity and non-cynicism I decided to take the first step and make a positive change. So I rose from my comfortable couch, very ungrudgingly, mind you. I waddled to the kitchen. I checked the fridge for something interesting to eat. Everything in the fridge was as interesting as the barracuda sitting out there. Then I slowly poured water into the pan.“What’s taking you so loooong?” She yelled.

I just wanted to check if the increase in your shrill would shatter the window panes in the kitchen.“Be right there.” I said. So as the nice, positive human being that I am, I took the water to her. I didn’t spit in it. I didn’t do other nasty things that are running through your head right now. I just gave it to her in the glass that the cockroach had just strolled in. I happen to like cockroaches. And I don’t think there is anything wrong in sharing utensils with them. I think it creates and increases harmony in this world.“You’re such a darling.” She said.That I am. I positively, non-cynically have to agree. So since I had been the nice guy, there was silence. Thank the lord. A minute passed. Whoever said a minute can feel like a century; was LYING.“Darling, do you think I have put on weight?” She asked. You’re so fat, there are sides to you that I haven’t seen. But since I am not into taking credit for other peoples originality, all I said was “Of course not.”

“Darling, don’t you think that I am prettier than that Monica woman?” She said. Sorry, she whined. No. I am not blind.“Of course you are.” I said.

“I don’t think you think I am pretty enough” She said.You could give Medusa a run for her money.“You could give Paris Hilton a run for her money.” I said.

She smiled at the comment. I swear women can be such jokers.“Do you love me?” She asked.

I was actually waiting for that one. I had an answer prepared to“You are the light of my life.”

A fused bulb that I am thinking should have been in the trash can a long time ago. This time, there was not even a minute’s respite. There she goes again,“I need to talk to you about something.” She said

There it comes.“I think you are not putting enough effort into making this relationship work.” She said.You betcha!“Ofcourse I am.” I said.“I do so much for you. Advice you, when you are going wrong. You don’t show your appreciation at all.”

I haven’t strangled you yet. Isn’t it enough?I knew this wasn’t going to go anywhere. So I got up. Went over to where she was lying slumped. A sight for sore eyes, I swear, she was. Crumpled, lose night gown, face pack and rollers in her hair. I kissed her on the only non-disgusting place on her face and left the room.I went to the bedroom and lay down; immersed myself in the adventures of Catwoman and Batman. Ah.. the pleasures of real life!This is when I saw the phone line blinking. Who was she talking to at this hour of the night? I pride myself on respecting people’s privacy. That is why I picked up the extension chord and Lo Behold.. this is what I get to hear..

“Did you do what I asked you too?” Shrill voice 1.

“Ofcourse I did.” Shrill voice 2.

“Did you whine?” Shrill voice 1.

“About everything under the sun.” Shrill voice 2.

“Did you prove that you were always right?” Shrill voice 1.

“YES.” Shriek it was. I swear.

“ok, ok, calm down. Did you ask about your looks?” Shrill voice 1.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. He still didn’t break up with me. He kissed me instead.” Shrill voice 2.

O God, revenge is sweet. So sweet. She wanted to break up with me. And I could finally make her suffer. Make her life the living hell that mine had been for so long. I could finally smile. Now is when the game was getting interesting.

“O honey, I am so happy for you. He loves you. Don’t you ever let him go.” Shrill voice 1.

Shit.

The King

“I am going to take away your kingdom.” Bellowed the fair man.
The king with an incredulous expression on his face asked, “Where?”
“Away from you.” Replied the unfrazzled fair man.
The king smiled and said, “Okay.”
The fair man ranted, raved, plundered, prodded, mastered the territory.
The last and only place that he didn’t have the name on was the throne where the king still lazed.“Get up. You’ve lost. The throne belongs to me.” Bellowed the fair man.
The king turned around and asked him, “Can I finish my wine?”
“The wine that you sip now belongs to me. Give here.” The fair man snatched the wine from the king and gulped it down in one go.
The king reclined back into his throne, “Selfish I say. Atleast he could have left the poison for me.”

The Duckling

“I am doing nothing of that kind.” The duckling scowled at her mum.“Trust me this will make you look beautiful.” The swan looked at the bottle of fairness cream in her hand and then at her ugly child.“Please use some and then the men will come flocking.” The swan was close to begging; and tears.“I don’t want to be beautiful. I’d rather be different; and have a spine.”The mother couldn’t bear the shame of an ugly child.She thought, ‘Even if I lack a spine, I have a sharp enough beak.’
Peck. Peck. Peck. Peck. Peck.

Two line shorties

“Are you going to feed her now?”
“The reagent is still boiling.”

“C’mon, throw it. Let it sink. Never to be seen again.”
“I’ll keep it. I need something to romance. Let depression be it.”

“I’ve brought you red roses, since you like the colour so much.”
“Can you paint them black?”

“Put on the lights when you leave.”
“It won’t help till you open your eyes.”

I knew if I left they would suffer. I couldn’t do that to them.
The steel of the knife was almost as luminescent as the car. As luminescent as the answer.

The dotted line was a blend of freedom and regret.Of years wasted and years saved.
Only the choice wasn’t his to make.

“Will you please give me the money?”
“Of course. Come to my house tonight and take it.”

“We have reached the crossroad. Which way should we go now?”
“Back?”

Instant Gratification

“Why do we have to have the same discussion over and over again?” He asked me, exasperated as hell. I understood that he was exasperated; and tired; and bored; and irritated. But my anger demanded my attention more than my desire to please him. Had the circumstances been right (i.e. a hammer in my hand and his head within reachable distance) he wouldn’t have had a head to boast of. He had the devil’s own luck, the bitch. I hung up since he was just fuelling my anger anyway. I wondered what I wanted to do. Should I poison his cereal? Should I cut up all his shirts? Should I send the tape we had made to his wife? Should I just leave and let him realize that I am important to him? Should I kill myself and implicate him in murder? I was clearly out of exciting options. I was out of options that would give me instant gratification. But then maybe instant gratification is over-rated.So I did what I had never done before; thought. Then I wrote to him.
With my head bent
With my hands folded
With all the humility
I have come to offer you

All of my love
All of my life
All of my joys
The lies turned true.
All I wish in return
Is when all around you is dark
You’ll know someone loves
The light inside of you

He melted. He forgave it all. He came back. He is basking in the glory of my love. I make him believe it more everyday. He is feeling safe. He has a warm-fuzzy feeling in his head.I am just waiting for it to heat his mind enough.I have the hammer ready.

Two line stories

“You have me exactly where you wanted me.”
“You used the past tense, darling.”

Come to me baby, I will make your dreams come true.
For an hour or two.

I will be blatant. I am the queen of the show.
House-full of flies.

“I thought suicide would take me to a place where I am appreciated.”
“How does it feel to know that even God doesn’t want you?”

Only talk of love?
Are there other joys in life?
Insignificant.

It will come to me.
It does eventually.
Impatience waits.

“I like my dark side. It completes me.”
”Yes, because it feeds of those around you.”

“Madness in my head. Get out! Take it out!”
Sorry. No Response.

“I want this and that.”
“Take whatever you want love”
“Don’t want it from you.”

the smaller piece

The meat was sizzling. A particularly delicious sound and smell which made you anticipate all that was to come. I don’t have a deep, philosophical meaning behind that one; just that I was waiting for the delicious meal. It was a bitter-sweet thing to look at it. While I loved watching the gleaming red coal and the sizzling grille and the charring meat, I couldn’t wait for it to get done so that I could please my baser desires. “Oye Datta, Is it done already?” The yell that came from inside the room broke my happy contemplation. It was my lazy-ass room-mate. Just because I enjoy cooking doesn’t resolve him of all responsibility, but he obviously thinks it does. Somewhere in the back of my head, was the niggling rationalization that he paid for it too. I am a clerk you, see? I don’t make as much money as he does. Actually, I make in a month what he probably does in a day. So, we have this deal. I do the house-work. He pays. It’s symbiotic. He doesn’t mind because he doesn’t have to bother about house-hold chores. I don’t mind because I get to live the life that I can’t afford. Sometimes when I wonder what it would be like to trade places with him, I stop myself immediately. I wouldn’t want to. I have sorted it out in my head. He has money; I enjoy what that money can buy. He works 16 hours in a day; I work for eight and then the rest of it is mine. He has women falling for him all over the place; I don’t really mind. Allright, I won’t lie, I mind, but it is a small price to pay. Even the power, the luxury, the car, the credit card, the foreign trips are all a small price to pay. For those 8 hours extra of life that I live everyday. The meat was done. I took the bigger piece for him.

the fly on the wall

U2 described all people in love as “The fly on the wall”.I am taking this opportunity to take the story ahead.
I’m the fly on the wall and I’m not the first person in this world who has fallen in love with the wrong person.I was a good gold-fashioned girl who got invited to the spider’s parlour.First he took my good old-fashionedness and then he took my heart.
Then he made me think that I actually liked being in the web.I struggled to get out and then he kept me stuck with some kind of sweet poison.
It’s not pretty from the eyes of all those who can see from the outside; but then did I forget to tell you that the first thing that he ate away was my eyes?
I’m still stuck – the fly on the wall, in love with the spider. It’s not all bad; I have my good times and my bad times; that’s what being in love is all about, right?
But there is a sad part to this story.
They say, rotting flesh turns into poison.
And this rotted flesh now has, my beloved spider.

Sisters

They were sitting together again.My former best-friend and her new best-friend.They weren’t really doing anything; just sitting around smoking a cigarette and laughing like hyenas.I wondered why I wasn’t sharing the jokes anymore.I wondered how they could laugh considering how fucked up their lives were.I walked towards them with a smile plastered on my face.It used to be her and me. We used to be the ones doing the laughing; the ones who were talked about; the ones who shared the secrets. We were the ones that people wanted to join.Now someone had and I was ousted.It was nothing but a classic jealousy. I knew that but I also knew that I wasn’t going to let some curly-haired, un-hot shit take my place.I know that the third leg is superfluous. I have never even been second. Ever.I know how fucked up their lives were. I knew her secrets. I knew they were precious to her. I knew that if they were shared, she would feel robbed of dignity, trust and much else.The new chick on the block and I had something in common besides those secrets. Both of us knew ears that were eager to listen.I smiled my most genuine, sun-shiniest smile and joined them.