We chase Aiswarya

The time people spend writing blogs!

And what do I do?

I spend it in typing!

Not that I am creating any thing great.

I go with the first draft to print!

And as Hemingway says

“First draft is shit”

Shit is bad, it is smelly, it is revolting.

Yet shit is fact.

There is no painting shit

If you can’t live with it, throw in the towel, say good bye.

For shit rules.

Shit is supreme

Shit is what life is all about.

Yet why write?

Hell, why not?

You know what unique is?

It is being where no one else is

It is being yourself.

Being original.

Bloody fucking original.

Well yes, even fucking can be original,

As some may know.

No one discusses it

Still we are at it behind doors.

We are minor vatsyayana’s

Casanovas

Honest Salman khans

We chase after the impossible.

We chase Aiswarya,

Luck, windfall, break.

Have you wondered how close these are?

Shit and luck

And how far apart?

Yet luck has something to do with shit

Luck is marketing shit

And succeeding at it.

We don’t discuss it

We produce it on the sly

We pack it in gilt

We display it in nice hoardings.

Once we sell it

We sigh

We even whimper with delight.

Whew, I sold it man!

Stupendous

Prodigious

Olympian

Oh yes you have a choice

You can either sell yours

Or purchase of others

Better sell yours

Give and take

Retribution.

Try flaunting yours

Others might like it

If they don’t

Scratch their backs

That is what life is all about

Getting others to scratch where you can’t

It’s called recognition.

Some call it patting

Pat away

The stimuli are there.

Me?

I will make

And never unmake.

They say

The story, narrative and the text are different

I like making

And sometime narrating

I will leave the Text to posterity.