Which Planet ?

"He came, He ran, He conquered"

The whole world gaped when this thing ran 100m and 200m in record time of 9.58 and 19.19 seconds respectively in the World Championships in Atheletics, Berlin 2009. The "It" started off in its usual sanguine attitude and once started it never gave thought to anything else except a World Record.

The finish in Berlin was unlike any other. This thing, clad in yellow finished at least a prominent 5m ahead of the second. The time taken by the thing to finish the race belittled the second guy's time even though the latter had an amazing one(in Berlin, it ran a whooping 9.58s while the second guy had an amazing 9.71s but as you can see - "No comparison") . Considering all this, the photofinish machine got no job as usual for whenever the it runs there is no need for the machine.

After the race is over, the it ran for another 200m in quite the same speed. This led its coach to think of letting the thing loose in 400m too. And if this series of making the it run in all the races, the thing will break all the records in the track events. Not stopping with that, it will better its own record at a regular period of twelve months.

Such astonishing inhuman talent coupled with such great will power and determination, brings just one doubt about the thing in people's minds. It's trademark of pointing to the distant something outside the earth gives this doubt a certainty, and the doubt shall alway remain -

" Which planet ??? "

....but how much ??

Here is my schedule for the next three weeks or so.

(Today is August 8)

1) Sankara School Culturals - A Skit and a radio show - August 10, 11

2) Youth Parliament - August 14 - No practice as of now

3) Social Science Exhibition Debate - August 17 - No preparation till now

4) Landmark Quiz - August 15

5) NDTV Hindu "I spy with my digital eye" - August 9, 10 and 11.

6) TCS IT Wiz Quiz - August 21

7) Physics and Chemistry Record submission - August 10 to 12

That quite sums it up. Rest are all minor things which needn't be considered.

.....all I want to say is that, they don't really care about me.

Life does not hang by a thread to suicide bombers; it is tightly strapped onto their waists. More comical is the fact that it is only after they die that they get recognition in several parts.

It is also saddening that they get to enjoy their job just once and then they are fired or blasted to be more precise.

The suicide bomber of the group “AL” chosen to get at least 70 in his score sheet including the Minister presently campaigning in some district was the not so intelligent bloke Jamal Amir ( Any sounding similarity to the name of

persons living, dead or in any jail in Mumbai is purely coincidental. ) He left his base bidding his last goodbye and headed directly to the huge crowd assembled at the grounds for the political campaign. Soon he was one among the crowds rather “The One” among it.

The ground had a special path made for the minister through which he could walk and meet all the people. This was supposedly a devious plan to muster support. Being close would make the people feel close to him even though there was the danger of people hurling out what is there beneath their feet. Our suicide bomber took this path to his advantage, got to the front of it and decided that he would press the button as soon as the Minister arrives near him.

People became restless as the minister was late yet again. Amir asked the fellow next to him (whom we shall call as X for the sake of simplicity),” When is the minister expected to arrive?”

X : Don’t know. Must arrive anytime now.

Amir : Oh. It’s getting late.

X : Are you an ardent fan of his?

Amir : Oh no. Nothing like that. I just have to kill him.

X : Kill him?

Amir : Yes. It is my job.

X : Duty conscious huh??

Happy that he had pulled of a successful joke X laughed in a peculiar way which sounded like continuous grunts from a pig trying to sing in the amplifier. It was apparent this guy was even dumber than our bomber as one, he should have shown some shocking reaction and fell to the ground for standing near death or two, he should have immediately informed the police.

The minister soon came near the suicide bomber waving his hands in the thought of his imminent victory. Our suicide bomber with a cool head pressed the button inside his shirt. Nothing happened. He pressed it several times only to feel a soft press and no consequence. This tense action of not seeing the Minister, deeply affected the Minister. He slowly approached the suicide bomber.

Minister : What is the matter boy?

Amir : It wouldn’t trigger.

Minister : What wouldn’t?

Amir : This Bomb. Do I have to explain it to everyone? I am a suicide bomber and I have to kill you but this bomb hidden under my shirt wouldn’t blast. I pressed the button several times but to no effect.

Minister : A SUICIDE BOMBER? I don’t care who you are but my aim is to please people. I shall clear your problem too soon.

Saying so he tore open our bomber’s shirt. There he saw that the bomber was not pressing the big red button which makes the bomb blast but instead a big black mole on his stomach. Only too happy to help, the minister himself took his index finger with the gold ring and pressed the red button.

(We leave the sounds of the blast, people screaming, ambulance sirens and the usual rumpus after any other bomb blast and go to the next day)

Newspaper reports say that there were 328 killed in the suicide blasts including the minister… But if we had counted the number of brains they would have surely been less than 325. Only we know why.

An apple's day out

It had been the tradition of great kings to go around their country in disguise and essentially and bluntly know what the lay man thinks of him. It soon faded away when absolute monarchy was replaced by popular democracy and intelligent minds with imbecile ones. Musing on this strange tradition left Mr. Roderick Blimp, the Assistant Director of the Ministry of Public Conflicts and Useful Gossip, from his office. He stuck a little green leaf on his head and painted himself red, thereby thinking to have disguised himself cleverly as an apple which was certainly out of shape. As a matter of fact, he never did look like an apple for apples have something inside them. He headed straight for the markets for he somehow came to know that the markets are usually crowded.

 

The whole market saw him for a second and returned to its own rhythm for it knew the Assistant Director of the Ministry of Public Conflicts and Useful Gossip when it saw one. Entering the market, he saw a bunch of old guys laughing. Presuming that it is due to old age he continued his quest – the quest to know his inner self by asking others. Nearing a big shop, he saw some small boys giggling at him. Saying to himself that childhood is a time to be happy, he went on for some decent looking man. After sometime, he saw some people japing at him. He looked behind only to find a big Mango. But why would they tease a Mango? He quietly went to the bunch and asked, “What do you think of the man who is the assistant to head of Ministry of Public Conflicts and Unusual Gossip the” Silence fell over the group. Suddenly a young man quipped, “How much of his character do you want us to expose?” “Anything and everything is fine.” “Ok then. Here it goes. He is not an Assistant, he is an Ass. He is a nitwit, dumb, pudding head, poor fish, thicko, the only human with 4 brain cells, even the civilizations of Mesopotamia would have known much more that what he knows? But still people say that he is as lovely as an apple” saying this they burst into laughter of certainly high mirth.

 

(Ting) Enlightenment! Now, completely aware of his image in public and also sensing the impending danger, Blimp dashed out of the market only to bump into the Mango which he had already seen. “Can’t you give way for an apple which has just been insulted a bit too much by the public?” Completing the question, he starts staring at Mango’s face. “Pleased to meet you, sir. What brings the Director of the Ministry of Public Conflicts  and Useful Gossip to the market sir?” Mango, with the usual majestic look replied, “The same reason for which you have come here.” “Business is not quite the same sir. I wouldn’t be surprised if the locals rise in mutiny in a few hours.” With a scary look the other replied, “ I fear the same, assistant. Look around you and you will hear sounds of joy everywhere. That is not because of our reign but because of our outfits. Presently, we are as they call, the Laughing Stock of this Market. Let us quit this market and start writing our resignation letters.”

 

“Sir, you are supposed to be yellow. But your face is red sir.”

“It happens when one is insulted too much, Blimp. They have demolished us. We are with level to the road. Red is the least I expected.”

“Hehe. If at all I turned red, it wouldn’t be seen, sir”

“Very funny.”