Not Sure What The Hell I’m/You’re Doing Here

This is my very first post. I’ve been blogging elsewhere with seven thousand constraints on my head, resulting in a very watered-down version of what the original text might’ve been. Here, not so much.

It’s a fucking joke, the amount of ridiculous content floating on the internet. This site will be dedicated to increasing that absurdity coefficient (absurd content/all content) to the point where it all makes sense in a weird way. Maybe.


Not my dog; I hate dogs. Added this pic just for visibility.


Words R Us

I made this while brooding

I made this cover while brooding about nothing

This is something I wrote over the month of July while dealing with other life stuff.
What is it?
It’s a novella. A very short book.
How long will it take me to finish?
It is less than 9000 words, so 40 minutes or an hour at most should do it.
What is it about?
I really don’t know. I just sat down at my desk and typed whatever popped into my head.
What genre is it?
The category is bullshit. Although, if you are also a pedant, it breaks into absurdism.
How do I read it?
I have attached the link for the .epub file. PDFs are terrible for ebooks.


(If you copy+paste+open the link in an incognito tab it doesn’t require you to login or whatever for downloading)


  • For Windows: I use this software
  • For Android: I am a longtime Moon+ Reader user, but Lithium is pretty amazing thus far
  • For iOS: I believe this is a popular epub reader (any app that can let you import and read epub files will do)

Tip: it’s pretty short, don’t skip ahead and spoil it

Ok that’s it.


It’s probably best to not let holy entities decide your fate, but with a train hurtling at my face, I felt no misgivings about invoking the Lord’s name twice: once in vain and then once in pain.

No, I wasn’t dead. Or was I? I can’t tell in this strange fog. Sure, I’d love to be dead, but not all of us are lucky enough. Now then, where’s the guy who pushed me?

Did anyone push me though? Who knows. Wow. Hmm.

What is this post? Chyayla. Summers are horrible.

Winter is the best season. I cannot stress on this enough.

The Visitor – Part 3

Please read the earlier parts before continuing further.

Part 1

The wind whooshed through my hair and clothes as I fell, and I spun mid-air to look at him. He stared at me from his vantage point far away, as I tumbled to embrace the sweet, sweet concrete…

Oh. Somewhere along the way, my fall was broken by something that I never felt, and everything turned dark. Feeling like an overpaid Matthew McConaughey from Interstellar, I floated aimlessly in pitch-black nothingness. A sliver of light emerged from the far side. I swam towards it. My other version was nowhere to be seen. The light grew brighter, more colorful.

As I reached the light, I began to orient myself, and soon realized that I was in some kind of viewing area, and the entities to be viewed were beneath me. Like a reverse planetarium, where I was part of the stars.

Below, a scene materialized. The Pacific ocean, as though a live-feed via a drone. The view focused on an island deep within the tangle of landmass. For maybe 10 seconds, the ocean rippled naturally. Then, a resounding boom shook the area and a shaft of blinding light shot down from the heavens onto an isolated island. This bright column of light pulsated for more than half a minute, and then disappeared back to where it had come from. The scene below remained unchanged. However, where once it was calm, the live picture now shimmered, alternating with another picture of the same spot. It was horrible. Through the stuttering montage of both pictures I saw how the ocean turned ugly and how all the surrounding islands lost their foliage in what seemed like a reverse timelapse.

And then poof! It was all gone, and I was at a restaurant. The same restaurant that I was at before I was thrown out by-

MeTwo. He just sat there like the smug prick we both are, alert for signs of trouble. Noticing my frown, he leaned forward. “That thing you just saw, it was an attack.”


“No one knows. But that one pulse of energy was enough to disrupt the entire continuum. Well, not entire, but a good chunk of it.”

“So what now?”

“Now we stop it from happening.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Of course not. The person who is rumored to have done this is at large in an older timeline.”

“Why are you basing your manhunt on a rumor?”

“I never said that. I know where he is right now.”


“Yeah, what are you, deaf or something?”


And then he was shot in the head.

Ready Player One

A summary of the book:

I listened to it in early 2017.

The writing is horrible. It’s like almost as bad as mine when I’m happy. The plot is decent but more predictable than stuff you’d predict easily. The prose seems childish at times, and yet is fun to read.

That said, the content is excellent. People fond of the 80’s lifestyle and pertinent pop culture will find the book to be filled with references to the videogames and movies and other famous entities of that era.

I listened to the audiobook of this particular novel, so I have had an experience different than most. Again, the story is very exciting and you get caught up in it. Keep in mind that the plot remains childish and predictable throughout. The characters are nicely fleshed out, in my opinion, although some are so clichéd that I don’t have an appropriate analogy for them.

All in all, the book manages (barely) to balance a half-decent plot with the story of a young boy wanting to save the world (two worlds, to be fair) against the backdrop of the aesthetic zeitgeist of a different time.

Genre: scifi, adventure, cliché


And the movie isn’t releasing in all theatres in India due to distributor issues. Oh well.

Poem Or Something

There is a stray dog outside my

Window and I want to kill


But there is also wifi

And so there is hope

Punctuation is weird and

So are random segues

Yo momma so fat she

Jumps between aesthetics like her bowel movement

But that makes no

Sense and my indentation is


Such meme much meta

Everyone is a poet

Till the justified text walks in

Jodie Foster (screaming “I’m gay, please send a straight poet, the aliens are crazy”) is nice

I should do this more often

But I don’t write well when I

Am not sad enough

Neon Angel

I spend my entire life looking for answers that were never there. At an indescribable point, I give up all of it in favor of hedonistic pursuits. My business/pleasure trips take me to places I’ve never dreamed of, and to some I’ve had nightmares about. It’s a good life. A beautiful life, even.

On a warm March night, I end up in an alcove bar along a naturally dark but well-lit beach in California. There are LED lights of purple and blue shades everywhere.

The bartender is a recommissioned robot from a bygone era. The initials B.A.R.S. are engraved on its huge metal chest. I love it. There’s a hidden speaker thumping out So Far Away by Lazerhawk. I could quite very probably settle here.

The crowd is sparse, and I stroll around, nodding in sync to the melancholy chords of the track. And then I see her.

The light catches her face in a way that makes her look half-blue and half-violet. She’s wearing nondescript clothes – a female activity almost unheard of – and little to no makeup. She’s gorgeous. I smile at her and she smiles back. And then we talk.

The bar closes down, but the music doesn’t stop. In the background, B.A.R.S. has switched the track to We’ve Just Begun by an artist I cannot recall at the moment.

For the remainder of the night, we somehow manage to talk about obscure joys and ubiquitous sorrows. Of lost lives and an uncertain futures. I’ve fallen in love with a stranger.

At the spark of dawn, we’re both exhausted from talking and thinking. Soulful, or soulless, melodies creep up on all sides. Tired, I fall asleep. It’s the most satisfactory sleep I’ve had in years. After what seems like an eon, I wake up to find no living soul in sight. The beaches are laid bare, and the LED lights are gone. Even B.A.R.S. is absent. The haunting music still plays. I never see her again.

It’s a good life. But it’s beautiful no more.

Rethinking Stuff: A List

Ignore the formatting and lack of periods (abortion incoming), thanks.

  1. I’m more depressed than I was in 2017
  2. Read above point
  3. My writing has improved greatly but has dropped into a bottomless pit with walls of sadness
  4. Both of my friends have moved up and ahead in life and I am extremely proud of them
  5. This means I can’t talk to them for hours on end like I used to
  6. I don’t know how bad a thing this is
  7. I’m navigating the treacherous slopes leading to wholesome relationships with the fairer sex
  8. It isn’t going really well
  9. Women are weird as hell
  10. I’ve seriously considered taking up drinking, twice in the span of one week
  11. My parents hate me because I’m everything they didn’t want to be
  12. My peers hate me because I’m everything they can’t be
  13. It is quite cheerful, I imagine, to talk to a human, as opposed to talking to a mirror
  14. I call literally no one just to make casual conversation
  15. Talking to yourself can make you batshit crazy (proven)
  16. Loneliness is not “just in your head” (proven)
  17. The ideal man, according to me, is the protagonist of the movie Drive (2011)
  18. The protagonist of Drive is a phlegmatic sociopath (which I already am) who loves cars (I do as well) with a loyal, and at times noble, streak (me too) and is a vengeful murderer (I’m not)
  19. I spend time at every marriage by trying (mostly accurately) to guess whether the bride is sadder or the groom is. It’s almost always both
  20. I vehemently despise all social gatherings
  21. In order to compensate for my restraint, I sometimes go overboard in initiating conversations
  22. A junior girl has been in love with me for two years and I’ve given her some kind of closure I’m not sure of myself
  23. I spent my birthday this week by switching my phone off, finishing an indie game, writing assignments, working out for half an hour and crying for 15 minutes
  24. It is pathetically easy to be mean to anyone and I do it on a daily basis
  25. One of my main twitter alts is on the verge of death
  26. I don’t know how I’m supposed to solve some problems
  27. I don’t know whether there are problems or I’m just overanalyzing
  28. I’ve grown smart as fuck lately and it only contributes to me somehow managing to ostracize myself from every room I enter
  29. No one likes a smartass and I’m not exactly agreeable in the first place
  30. My own career is about to get even more wonderful and yet I feel no joy
  31. Seeing a shrink does not help me, I’ve tried it
  32. Talking it out is a stupid, stupid approach
  33. Perhaps I should start with the milder alcohol
  34. My new and good acquaintances tell me I should try getting high instead; it helps
  35. I’m too detached
  36. I’m also out of things to say right now
  37. Nikolas Cruz must’ve loved unordered lists (because bullet points, get it?)
  38. Sorry for the formatting
  39. This was fun

Listening to this beauty right now

TRON: Cycles

I want to win a best (voice? idk) actor award in a extremely competitive peer-reviewed competition.

Next joke: Gay male couples should all be managers because they’re always taking it up with each other. This is not my best joke.

I love the idea of the super cool light cycles in TRON: Legacy (also the first movie). I also love their idea of time. I actually hate the idea of measuring time; but I roll with it because it messes with my megalomania-powered idea that I can’t invent time travel if I’m not measuring it.

I stay awake at night sometimes thinking of a different possibilities, say for example if Jesus of Nazareth had never been born, or maybe if all level-headed human beings died in the plague and the next generations went crazy, just like Michael Crichton feared. Blade Runner 2049 was amazing.

Anyway, the format of a time cycle seems pretty cool but then again all earth days are basically light cycles with integrated dark modes.

My career is now at another crossroads! Ting ting ting! Meditation and r/wholesomememes are a tried, tested and sureshot way to fail at being less mean to people. What is this schadenfreude omg

Can’t think of anything else. Maybe I should delete this site.

Love And Other Vague Sorrows

This post is scheduled to be published on the 14th of February, IST.


Relevant xkcd

If Google Trends are at all a viable metric for gauging the populace’s thinking at any point in time, then, as of January 2018, the general public’s interest in love seems to be slowly but steadily dwindling into oblivion; is this a glimpse into what the future might be like? A utopia of sorts? Probably not.

Over the years, philosophers have voiced their opinions on this intricate and yet occasionally simple concept. Plato held a rather optimistic view; that love is rational, even intellectual. The French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre saw things in a different direction, and talked about falling in love as having a strange relationship: one half of a couple is the subject, the other half is the object. These dynamics keep changing, leading to unnecessary compromises along the way, introducing deliberate ripples into an otherwise tranquil pool. Sartre went so far as to relate this phenomenon to masochism and even sadism. He wasn’t far off the mark.

To be in love is to look at yourself in a mirror warped by your partner’s expectations. Your affection for each other often supersedes your individual identity. Surely this cannot be an improvement in a presumably balanced lifestyle? The human mind is quite possibly the most wonderful artifact of life. It fails, however, at the most unexpected moments; times that are described popularly as moments when “we just clicked. It was love at first sight!” I mean, let’s face it Priya, it probably wasn’t, but okay.

If you have also observed couples in society, while, before and after (pessimism is the best) they were together, you will have noticed how drastically their behavior changes. It pains me to say this but I regret now not having pursued a degree in psychology. A man so obviously smitten by a woman, or any other combination, is never the same again. Of course, this does not hold good for the grayer patches of societal strata, i.e. sociopaths and psychopaths; no, their lives are quite blissful. In the early stages of said attraction, these normal people – overcome with infatuation – keep getting distracted in the most pedestrian of discussions. A lack of sleep becomes evident as well. There is also, however, an uncharacteristic smile playing on their faces throughout this illusory period.

The answer to why being attracted to somebody feels so invigorating lies in the realm of science. When you interact with someone you think you like, your brain goes into action and releases chemicals like adrenaline (the rush), dopamine (the distraction) and serotonin (more distraction). While these are all pleasure-inducing compounds, and help you step into this amazing phase of falling for someone, they cloud over your judgement, and, bit by bit, begin to alter your perception of things. I am in no way saying that these are egregious outcomes. Just that they’re really, really bad.

Which brings us to consequence. Once you are committed to building a castle of emotional – and sometimes financial – dependence, watching it crumble down into dust is agonizing. Spending months on end distraught over a break-up does justice to no one and helps only the therapists and bar-owners. This is where temporary speed-dates and premeditated short flings triumph. To willingly get into “nothing serious” and remain conscious of this caveat is a fairly good way to experience a myriad of stimuli while retaining your sanity. And I’d rather mourn for a recuperating friend than for their depressed corpse.

Every break-up is not horrible. Every successful relationship is not tidy, either. I have heard the phrase “लग्नं व्हायच्या आधी…” (translation: before I got married…) umpteen times in a wide array of household discussions, including my own. Not all of these sentences end in a habit or activity that the speaker used to happily indulge in in the past, but most do. And these are only from the married households. Isn’t that sad? Of course, you have these huge joyous family gatherings and wholesome get-togethers and what not. But are they not compensations for a future lost to a life of dedicated love? The thought of anchoring oneself completely to a stranger may seem daunting to many people. It is not so much daunting, though, as it is daft.

If you are lucky enough (you’re not) to find someone who is the perfect fit for you, then my hearty congratulations. If not, my condolences. In itself, love is a metaphor for sacrifice. Only rarely do relationships work with minimal effort from both parties. In all other cases, it is an endless circle of mutual torture.

But humans are constitutional simpletons. And so they fall in love all over again.

Thank you for reading. Happy Valentine’s.

Failed Ideologies

The sun is weak today. The park is bleak today. I like rhymes. Temperatures are weird right now, and not many joggers, or even generic park-goers, are in attendance. In fact, there is only one other soul within a 500 radius of me. It’s a cat.

The theory of individualism, if you think about it in a group, looks like shit. On closer inspection, however, one sees that the underlying ideals are actually conducive to physical and mental betterment…of an individual. And on stripping away the layers of logic, one concludes that the idea of individualism is a doomed one.

I do not talk here about a totalitarian government, no. Rather, my focus in these troubling times is on the literal usage of the word. Living life as a single, lonely hermit, trapped inside the transparent maze of modern life. Sounds utterly pretentious. It’s not. It’s a stupid social experiment that I’m willing to undergo, chiefly owing to the fact that I’m a self-centered arrogant prick.

Hindu culture and mythology has a long roster of such hermits, rishis. A typical such hermit would remain a celibate for life, which would often be a long one. Some of these rishis have been known for their rebellious approach and heretical tendencies. But not all of them. In the right context, they could be compared to modern day survivalists: insofar the comparison does not take paranoia into consideration.

Think I’ll write a 1000-word longform on this and get it published somewhere.

I sometimes toy with the serious prospect of living such a life. And yet such a future evades me. I wouldn’t last a year without human contact. Ah, to live with nothing and everything simultaneously. But that remains to be seen. Alright then.