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Rodentia

Last night they discovered a human in the sewers, screamed the headline on Daily Vermin Times. Ed Rat paused to scan the headline and sipped his morning tea. He was in charge of the highly successful Human Extermination Programme. He came from the highly acclaimed family of rats that had unleashed Plague on the frail human race centuries ago. At that time rats used to be in the sewers and the humans used to be outside. Maybe they too had a Vermin Extermination Program. How ironic, thought Ed. We were destined to rule the world. We withstood their poison and laboratory tests. In fact, the tests made us stronger and resistant to the diseases. Now look at them hiding in sewers away from us, fearing us. The telephone rang. Ed woke with a start from his reverie. There must be something wrong, he thought. My room has shrunk, there are metal bars everywhere. It looks like a cell. I can see my cousins in another cell. They are all playing with something. What's this lump on my hand? What&#
Recent posts

Hallucinations

It is an ear worm for sure, the doctor sounded confident. Ear worms, this guy is out of his mind. Aren't they harmless musical notes that get stuck on your mind? Well, my case was different. What got stuck was a piece of a ringtone. Something that sounded like the lovechild of a heavy metal riff and a banshee. It kept ringing and ringing till I became a sleep deprived zombie. Everything started because of that rotten room mate of yours. The junkie who had that ringtone from some progressive goth metal band. I was sleeping peacefully and then the blasted phone started ringing. It was so loud that it even impregnated my brain. Now, all I need is it to stop ringing. How do I do that? It might stop when the battery runs out. Excuse me doctor, could you please check how long my battery will last? As soon as the morphine kicks in, your battery will die. Then you can sleep peacefully. The doctor's voice echoed from somewhere up there. He looked up and saw a galaxy of halogen stars fad

Death Wish

I have to write. Those were the words that escaped the dying man's lips. He was found lying unconscious near a mountain of blank paper. His autopsy revealed over exhaustion as the reason. But what did he want to write so badly that it killed him, no one knows. The task was designated to the junior cop who was part of the investigation team. Let's call him Namura. So here we are with Namura in a room with the mountain of blank paper. He is awed as to why should there be so many papers near a dying man. He picks a sheet on the top. He studies it. It's as blank as blank papers can be. No pencil or pen has violated its virgin whiteness. Namura thinks of the white bed sheets back home. He is tired. All he wants is to crash on his bed. He feels angry about the whole situation. Here I am, staring at a blank piece of paper, wondering why someone who wanted to write so badly didn't write a single word, while the whole world is sleeping on their comfy beds. He wanted to tear the

Stories

Thoughts just streamed in like the cool breeze through a half open window. He wanted to be a big name in publishing. But his tales didn't really make it in a world brimming with stories. They just blended in with the rest. Only he could recognize them in a crowd. For others they were just like any other story. Some took them home, some didn't. They just stood there braving the odds for a random stranger to delve deeper into their souls. At times he also used to wonder whether he himself was someone else's story.

dialogues

There is a problem with your breathing You either breathe in or out Why don't you just absorb without doing anything Its easy to say when you are from not from my universe I am an alien, you are one too We are two species wrapped in a time machine  So why don't we forget all this and go our separate ways  

Pulse

Your heart is weak. Its delicate like a balloon filled with nails. Here, you can hear then jangle. Let's do an echocardiogram. Oh no, lets try TMT. Wait, let's see how long you can go on. Try not to do anything. You might as well die. That's safer for your cardiac condition. And so they chimed on.    

Riddle

When thoughts become tweets When memories disappear like sweets When alarms wake up before sunrise When cars run on pure desire When souls seek asylum I soak in their moral bedlam For I am who I am The key to the mortal conundrum