A world of fools or just the two of us

Clipped from sleuth.newsvine.com

Friends have been rather worried of late about my incessant obsession with Sheikh Chilli. For those who don't know about him, he was a sheikh of the mughal dynasty and lived in India. That's not what he was famous for though. He was known for day dreaming and far fetched tales of glory, which never remotely materialised. Back then, he must've been a laughing stock, a guy whom nobody took seriously. But all the same, his laughable tales did become an important part of our folklore over the years so much so that people who day dream even today draw comparisons to Sheikh Chiili from others. His route of attaining grandeur might've been crooked, but glory he did achieve at last, an irony that seemed to possess my thought recently.

Then, like the apple on Newton's head, a thought struck me, which drove me even crazier. May be he wasn't so stupid after all. May be he was clever as hell, and his ludicrous dreams were a pre meditated route to glory. I began getting tempted to take a leaf out of his book. Man is a slave of his desires, but when one so desires to jump into a marsh, he can't expect the soil to spill only on his feet, only the Sheikh could of managed that. Anyways, with the best intentions of keeping the soil to my feet and keeping my cloak unscathed, I cautiously set foot into the exclusive private marshes of our hero. But my valiant efforts were undone by a carriage blazing past me, spilling mud all across my body. Standing soiled there, I didn't feel so clever any longer. As if I didn't feel stupid enough already, I was flabbergasted when I saw people, loads of them rushing in on the other side of what appeared to be a cage of some kind to laugh at my sorry sight. At first I thought I have made a right fool of myself. But then I saw, right next to me was Sheikh Chilli, my crumb of comfort. He consoled me by saying "this is your opportunity of writing your name in the history books, just like me. Grab it with both hands. A couple of centuries from now, we'll pop round for a drink at this very place and laugh out loud at these sordid fools ."

Doctor Swines

The world is in dire need of doctors. Not the ones with MBBS degrees, neither those with PhDs. The world needs a different kind of doctors, for curing an illness unheard of by the conventional ones. Those who might try and play it down must know, the disease is most dangerous of all known to mankind, one which is commonly neglected as well. Though rather than an illness, its an unwell mental state where one starts to accept tortures on routine basis as a part of life. This though is only where it starts. Gradually the patient grows so used to the tortures that he begins to lose the knowledge of their existence. As time wears on, the disorder renders the patient completely unaware about the fact that a rope is still tied round his neck, attached at the other end to an apple cart.

The cart runs smooth as silk, though that hardly reflects the state of affairs at the subject's end. Smothered to near death by the rope and bruised through and through by the ground he constantly gets dragged against, he's a personification of suffering, yet staggeringly ignorant about it. After the cart has run its course and he's released from the bondage of life, his lifeless body has knowledge, in full detail of the topography of various places he has been to on his merry journey behind the apple cart.

Though most people realise their suffering only in after life(if there's something like that), the Filthy Swine, being smart as hell was able to figure it out while still alive.

So, he decided to do something about it. With the able assistance of swines all across the world, he recruited the first batch of a special team of doctor swines. They are specifically trained to cure this illness, though ungrateful humans for some reason like to call it swine flu.

For those who feel the post's over, well so do I.For those seeking explanations, continue reading if you must

Constraints of the modern world have swiftly filled the boots of the ancient day taboos. A man can't do what he wants, for he must first do what the world requires of him. My earnest clarifications that this is not a jibe at the poor swine flu victims. I heartily sympathise with them and their families and wish them well. As an attempt at provocative writing, the article intends to make people realise that you can't put an end to your problems just by turning your back to it