The Girl.

There are three layers. The girl is singing, but it's not in this layer. But which layer am I? Is it the outer, the middle or the inner? I don't think this is the inner layer, because since I'm not crouching into myself, as I would have been if I were in the inner layer. Is it the outer layer? I don't think this is the outer layer, because since I am not getting thinned and blown away into microcosms, as I would have been if I were in the outer layer. So it must be the middle. So the girl must be either in the inner layer or the outer layer. What is her song - Is it the pain of being crouched into oneself or the euphoria of being blown away into the universe?

Everything's Perfect!

"It's just an injection Arnold." "Yeah, but I'm not Arnold." "Well, everyone's Arnold for me. So sit down, and show me your forearm." "Are you sure this is perfectly safe, all fine?" "Everything is perfect, it is. It is natural and in this case quite mandatory that you feel some dizziness immediately after the injection. So, are you, now?" "No, not really." "Are you NOW?" "Yes I am, yes." "See, I told you - it's perfect. Now you'll be seeing everything over-exposed, brighter. Things will become more surreal, and I tell you, it's more fun. I know, because I've been there."I was floating; dreaming; flying; falling into an abyss.

 "Oh, I didn't think he was gonna buy that crap. Is he unconscious now - safe to be moved?"

"I'm the veteran here. I know, everything is just perfect. And yes, you can move him now."

Steel bird.

It's the steel bird again. This time it will shoot through. No - my emotion driven but highly illogical part of the mind said. It won't; as long as we keep our spirits high, it will hold up. But, how - asked the me-me, the logical me. Look at the dents it has already made. Looking at the situation and gauging by the steel bird's strength, it will just need one more chance. No, don't loose hope - she says. (Somehow that other emotional part evokes a feminine vibe.) I (the me-me), let out a deep sigh. The steel bird hit the wall of the tree, broke into the nest and took the little birds inside it. I tapped the cigarette with my finger and closed the shades on the window. I let out a deep sigh.

:)

Ricochet.

If I am ever gonna have a son and if he comes to me and tells me that he wants to be an engineer, I am gonna swear at him. I am gonna swear at him and then I will take him to a side and tell him - Don't you ever dream of becoming an engineer. Remember the guy who sells tea in the cinema theatre? He sells that frigging awful hot concoction of his for thirty rupees - become him.

Helpless!

How would you like to do a job which involves being shouted at by people of below average IQ all day? People who believe everything that their printer or scanner not able to do should be fixed by the guy on the other side of the phone? If you answered yes, you would do awesome in my role.

That day was a particularly shitty day. My average day itself is a piece of hell, so you can figure out how an above average one would be. So, I get into the cab pissed off with every single soul in the face of the planet and start my ride back home.

It was just me and the driver and he was talking on the phone while driving. It was not a big crime in this part of the world, but that day was not an average day, right? The customer in me woke up, I wanted him to get off the phone, at once. Well the driver, an young guy with lots of attitude, asked me what if he won't? I said I will complain to the logistic department. He pulled over and asked me to get out, told me that no soul would stop for me here; that I would most certainly be mugged; that I would be lucky to be alive tomorrow, which was true. I got off. He got off too, but this time to smoke a cigarette and to give me that smirk. That did it.

See, I was helpless, totally. I had no way; 10 in 1, I will be mugged. If I am extraordinarily lucky, I will be alive tomorrow. I was helpless. I took my gun, shot him, twice. Once on his neck; the second one square on his chest - my coup de grâce. 

Sunflower.

I was riding pillion on my friend's bike. We were stuck in a jam, with cars all around us. I checked the one on the left. A small sunflower toy was on it's dashboard, you know, the one which dances from left to right when the car jerks. I look at the one on our right - it also has a similar toy, only a different colour. This must be a pretty popular toy around here. The one car behind us, also had one. Then I thought, everybody has one, why not me? A sunflower started growing on my forehead then, dancing slowly from left to right. Then I realised - Hey! But I am not a car. But by then it was too late.