Best deals on human beings!

Good morning! Welcome to the Super-Duper Jumbo Mega Store
Do peruse the variety of heads on our shelves galore
We have hot, cute, sarcastic
Edgy, smart, fantastic
And best: they're all summarised in lines of four.

Scan that QR code you see on the screen
Bask in the shimmer of your matches' sheen
Introvert, extrovert,
Ambivert, pervert—
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And now dear it's time to set up your profile
Sell your fuckable parts with an innocent smile,
Sell your soul in an ashtray
'Cause no one's reading an essay
Now sit and pray for that elusive 'true love' awhile.

Start inane conversations with a simple little 'Hi'
Get asked where you live by a pick-me guy
Who's so sweet and nice
(But only for a price)
'Stories and connections' is what you'll wanna buy.

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More kissing in a tree
All you need is a harmless little scan.

7th April/ (5/30)/ Extended Limerick

Conversations with my brain: A Conversation with my brain

For the uninitiated, Wrinkles is my brain.

Wrinkles: No it’s not.

Me: I’ve already opened your dialogue tag with that. And I have no plans to change that.

Wrinkles: You think it’s a clever and taunty name for me, but it’s not.

Me: Hmm. Maybe I should do like an anagram of the word ‘Brain’. How about Brian? Top marks for not tryin’?

Brian: Pot, kettle, black.

Me: Brian, being, racist.

Brian: See, this is what you keep doing in every one of these: you pretend to take an idiom literally and then it’s like hahaha, so funny. If anyone’s “not tryin'”, it’s you.

Me: Oh, hon, I don’t need to try to insult you. You just inspire mockery by virtue of your very existence.

Brian: And so, by definition, do you.

Me: Oh my. Look at that. You’re agreeing with me on something. I can feel the historicity of this moment radiating like a museum’s.

Brian: If disagreements piss you off that much I don’t get why you even bother writing these ‘conversations with my brain’. All you ever write in them is me judging your bad life decisions and you trying to be funny by humiliating me.

Me: You judging my life decisions and me humiliating you isn’t restricted to the written word.

Brian: To be fair, that was only the last one’s pattern. All the others are practically me annoying you and you annoying me in return.

Me: A proper symbiotic relationship indeed. And as a gesture of good faith I will start retitling your dialogue tags.

Brian: For real?

Me: Hey, I don’t say things I don’t mean. There you go.

Mahamariyat 1- The two lamps

Sehdev was almost there. After crossing out his calculations and diagrams more times than he’d care to admit, it seemed this time he was finally going to get it right. Oh yes, here it was, Jupiter in the sixth house—

“What the fuck?!” Nakul’s sudden exclamation made him jump almost ten feet into the air. His focus was broken, and now he’d have to this alignment all over again. Damn his idiot brother to Paatala.

He turned around to yell some obscenities at him but had barely opened his mouth when Nakul started his little rant, his angry chiselled face lit by his phone’s blue light.

“Again? Arjun gets more likes again? Look at all these thirsty people in the comments. ‘Ooh, all that blood and sweat only makes you hotter. I’d take a blow from the Brahmastra just to—‘ “ Nakul was reciting in a mockingly shrill voice before he stopped, apparently disgusted by whatever came next.

Waxing poetic

My first leg wax was anticlimactic
I was bracing for torturous tactics
But I still cry when I feel
A chunk of armpit hair peel
For that's a torment extragalactic.

3rd April/ (3/30) / Limerick

Your basic love poem

Let me guess— you're in love and want to write them something
Something that'll impress them and send their heart fluttering,
Something like Ben's haiku for Beverly from It
Winter fire, January embers, that crazy romance shit;
But you ain't got a clue on how to poem
And you're not shallow enough to commission an Instagram poet
So you're over in your head and haven't got a clue?
Worry not, children, mommy's here to help you.

Let's start, we'll go top to bottom, then back to the top
Let your heart overflow and just write till you drop;
Don't worry, I'm just kidding, there'll be actual advice
That might just get you that dreamy sunrise,
Now open up your brain, listen, oil those gears
And insert your beloved's qualities over here.

For their hair, use some adjectives from that shampoo ad last night
You know it gets all tangled but about its shine you must write,
Now move on to the eyes, drown in their swallowing deep
Just ignore the dark circles they get from too little sleep,
You could throw in a line about the nose— well, not much there
Just insert your beloved's qualities in here.

Now we come to wanting to kiss those soft moist lips
You don't mind they're actually chapped as potato chips,
Tell them how holding their hand makes you feel the warmth of the sun
Yep, that's a good line, make a little note, hon,
Don't mention fireworks— of clichés you must steer clear
And insert your beloved's qualities in here.

Time to move on from the pretty face, warm hugs and embrace
That person inside you want to be with all your days,
Maybe they're smart and sincere, to which you tip your hat
Or they're a total dumbass and you love them for that,
Whatever their personality, just imagine them near
And insert your beloved's qualities over here.

Now romanticise the sound of their voice
When you listen to them talk, everything else becomes white noise,
Oh, it's actually nasal, shrill or guttural? Then focus on the conversation
Or lie and paint them as Morgan Freeman's imitation,
Don't write the sappy 'sweet nothings' you wanna whisper in their ear
But insert your beloved's qualities over here. 

Last, talk about how their presence makes you feel inside
Maybe you feel safe, happy, and bring out your better side,
Or maybe you turn into a clumsy bumbling fool
Or become a pretentious jackass in your attempt to look cool,
Don't be cheesy and say you want February 14 with them each year
Just insert your beloved's qualities in this poem here.

2nd April/ (2/30) / Not really free verse, I think. Rhyme with a refrain?

Instagram and other black holes: A Conversation with my brain

My Brain: Look, I cannot allow this to continue.

Me: What, you got a problem with photography now?

My Brain: No, not photography. Instagram.

Me: Well, that’s where photographers post, don’t they? And it’s not like I’m revealing my life to everyone there. It’s just gonna be photos of trees and stuff.

How to be funny: A helpful guide ft. Wrinkles, aka My Brain

No, Wrin dear, I am not changing it to ‘just My Brain’. And no, the title’s not too long.

Well, hello there. Three days ago, it was C&C Fac’s 3rd anniversary, and even though my 12th board exams are literally starting in 17 days (yes, I counted), I’ve come out of this blogging exile just for this anniversary post, which is basically the only tradition over here.

Pain: Senryu

Heartbreak’s a searing

pain with no gain but a lot

of weight from ice-cream.

Bored in tuition class- A Conversation with my brain

Scene: 7 p.m., my room, time for my Physics tuition and my Physics/Chemistry tutor is making notes of Magnetic Effects of Electric Current in my register. A little context here- he makes notes of a particular topic and then explains it to me. He’s also a Reiki healer, an astrologer, a numerologist and a tarot reader. Science+Pseudoscience= What the hell. 

My Brain: Why doesn’t he hurry up? It’s been a minute already. I’m bored.

Me: I know. Me too. *Drums fingers on table*

My Brain: You should stop doing that. It’s rude and obnoxious, not to mention monotonous.

Me: Maybe I should drum the Doctor Who theme, then. Much more entertaining.

My Brain: You know what else would be entertaining? Telling him what a load of bullcrap his astrology is.

Me: Because that’s not rude and obnoxious.

Killing the Creator (part 14)

Click here to read the previous parts.

A steady breeze rustled the leaves of the trees in Nehru Park and made the clothes hanging out on the railings of the houses surrounding it flutter ghostily. The Park was deserted, the time being 2 A.M., except for three people who were standing in a triangle near the henna bushes.

A tall bespectacled girl with tangled brown hair stood at one end, her usually alert grey eyes heavy and tired. But she still stood upright, never slouching.

“I gave everything for this.” She locked eyes with the denimmed boy at the apex of the triangle. “You have to.”

Before he had a chance to reply, however, the short girl with a long black ponytail at the other end addressed him.

“I know you’re not a bad person,” she said, her soft brown eyes pleading. “What we had was not all fake, you know. We laughed at your name, remember?” She was trying to be strong and not let them see her cry. “I beat you at badminton.” She smiled sorrowfully.

The tall girl was starting to say something, but the boy didn’t hear it. A loud ringing filled his ears and-