Crockery Conversations – Part 2! (a co-authored post)

And The Manor lived by another day. Its members and inhabitants doing what they were supposed to do. Live on, do their daily work, blissfully unaware of the existence of talking crockery. And just like these members, lived the Crockery of that Manor, the sun went down, lights went out and the Crockery came to life, like always. Slowly, gradually, trying to shake off the stagnant daily life off them, and shedding the darkness. Beginning to talk and move. This day had been quite eventful. Hell, not just eventful but full of hectic work and excitement. It was Neelofar’s birthday. Neelofar, the middle child of one of the brothers of the Manor, was celebrating her18th birthday. Every event, like a birthday or a marriage, at the Manor was a huge, ‘talk of the town’ sort of event. The magnificent Manor would be lit up like the Sun, covered by unbelievable and brilliant decoration, making it truly look like a wonder. Richie rich guests, friends and family, all occupied the Manor for Neelofar’s birthday, to get together and meet up, greeting each
other, the party being a reason for another social comparison, who was prettier, who was richer, and by how much?.

While the legally living greeted outside, the pseudo non-living prepared them to serve their guests with exquisite food and beverages. Dishes of many varieties and kinds were served on them, to cater to people of every type .For a manor this big, serving a family this royal, the amount of Crockery in the kitchen had to be humungous and unbelievable too. Years of serving the royal blood and friends, they had tasted almost every dish, every drink and every stain. They would show off, about how many dishes they have served and which the best was. Surprisingly,
these were the things who had tasted more than any man could have (or woman. We no sexist, bro.)

Shaking off the memory of the day, Mrs Potts, the all mother, the oldest, announced it was safe for everyone to come out. With her permission and assurance, all the unboxed, unchained Crockery came out. Cluttering on their way through the counters, hopping, rearranging themselves, and finally walking down from cabinets, and the strong ones jumping off heights, they all gathered around Mrs. Pott.

Mrs. Potts, with her favourite pots and cups, started chatting about how the day had gone. What went wrong and what was new and what all happened. Comparing everything to how they did it before. Condemning some new things and praising some. While the pots and cups kept on with their chat, two imported, English plates, brought specially from
England, argued with other Indian plates about a recent game of cricket between India and England. David, one of the English plates said, “We invented the game, we play it the best. Everyone else came and cheated from us and learned it. We own cricket!” To which, a furious Indian plate, Rex, replied, “Yeah, and who stole hockey? Don’t you people play it, too? Everybody in the world does. That’s our game. Give that back to us and you can have the
right to lecture me about owning cricket.” Disgusted at being levelled by a comment equally valid, David had to give in and cluttered back into his stand, stomping angrily, giving Rex the meanest of looks. Rex continued to talk to the other English plate, Harrison. Harrison was rather a calmer, more reasonable plate. Now, that’s the kind of personality a plate should have, Rex thought approvingly. He would talk is way out of people but never fight. Taking David’s place, Harrison started talking to Rex and everyone, the other Indian plates knew, Rex was going to succumb to Harrison’s way with words. Thus they popped open their ears and patiently waited for it to happen. Knowing that this night, was going to be all about it cricket and Harrison.

Only, they noticed that one of Neelofar’s friends had forgotten her cup at the Manor, and it simply wouldn’t talk! This was pointed out by the very observant kettle, Jaya. Then it struck her that, *maybe* only the crockery which has been in this Manor can talk! And that spun all kinds of questions – Was the manor bewitched? Were the owner’s wizards? This would explain the incident of last time, when they thought morning came too soon! Do time and other fundamental things behave differently in this Manor? The uproar that went around was magnanimous! But how much of it was true? Only time would tell! (Whether it behaves fundamentally normally, or not.)

{ This blog was co-authored along with Adam Fredie, in fact, the post is mostly him. Do encourage him by comments 🙂 }

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Origin Of The World

No, this is not some great thesis, or its synopsis. This is just a satirical short story that takes a dig on all ‘ists’ and belief groups. So here goes 😀 –
The world began in a cardboard box. You know, those big brown ones. A snail, a bug and a rat were the three beings that lived in it. The bug was not any ordinary bug, it was a lady bug. The snail being the male counterpart. And the rat, well, it just lived to eat. It’s eyes would shine in an evil manner every time it saw a tasty scrap of food.
As is evident, there was a lot of competition in the box, especially for food. Something which this new kid on the block, Charles, calls ‘Survival of the Fittest’.
The rat gorged every little morsel of food that grew in the box, and the snail was too slow to compete. The only one who could match the speed of the rat with her own unique skills was the lady bug. She could give out an over powering scent, like different perfumes fused together. They would have smelled great individually, but together, they were torture. The rat, who had a keen sense of smell, had no choice but to stay as far away as he could from the lady bug. But she could use this ability of hers only once a day, and thus, she chose her time wisely.
As she would secure the food to be devoured later, she could not help looking at the snail. He was a nice creature, slightly slow, and slightly proud, and that too of abilities he did not have. But altogether, not so bad.
She gave him a share of the food, and smiled lovingly at him. Hesitant at first, he eventually accepted it. Soon enough, they became a team. She provided for him with her humble and maternal instincts. And he, though slow, was a help in two ways. One, his proud appearance, united with the abilities of the lady bug, kept the rat at bay. Moreover, them being a team due to his presence, kept the rat as far away from them and their food as possible.
Things continued in this fashion for quite a number of days (or years, whatever, time is relative after all). Then one fine day, this neat little boy called James was riding his bicycle in the room in which the box was kept. Now being new at this whole cycling thing, James bumped into things and beings quite often. Just so he banged into the Box too..Some dramatic folks call it The Big Bang, but it’s all overrated really.
Well, anyway, continuing, what happened inside the box was this. Now since the box world had just begun, everything wasn’t as stable as it is today. And all the three, namely, pro, the lady bug, to, the snail, and zoa, the rat, fused together. And became Pro-to-zoa. Protozoa.
Ah. Now you know.
Well, you know what comes next, the boring part..some explain it with evolution, some with religion. I don’t believe in beliefs so I’ll just say that it was like an interval in between two great movie halves. As you know, that later it got divided into Man and Woman, with more to in man and more pro in the woman, and equal amounts of the materialistic zoa in both of them. Only, the roles reversed with woman becoming subdued with her kindness being talent for weakness. But all that has changed. And will keep on changing.
All this while, you might be wondering who the ruddy hell am I. Why, I am What Comes Next, of course.
Just wait and watch. Not like you have any other option, frankly speaking.

Exactly.

Romantically Speaking.

Is there a young lady or gentleman you know of, hardly out of their teens, but have died at least ten times due to heart break?

Of course you do.. they are friggin’ everywhere!

On twitter, on facebook, or whatever social network, you name it, their there… there and brooding, about how they curse their heart and hope to die.

Why?

A girlfriend or boyfriend of one month or maximum two, has ditched them. Tragedyyyyy! Isn’t it?

You don’t think so? Oh, but please, you’ll break their already-hundred-times-broken-and-stuck-together-with-cheap-tape-heart!

This seems like the pits, but there is actually something worse.

The “in-love” teens, as hard to believe as that is, they are more annoying than the heart broken ones!

At least, the heart broken ones brood in a corner, these people, they will scream, “I AM IN LOOUVVEE, MY BOYFRIEND LOOKS GOOD IN PICTURES AND BUYS ME LUNCH SO HE IS PERFECT!!!” right in your ears.

Oh yes, and they don’t spell like that, its more on the lines of  ” i m in luv, ma byfrnd…” oh chuck it!

And accompanying the gloom or the overbearing joy are the photos. Photoshopped pics of the “couple” with or without the crack in between depending on the state of their hearts.

And the sad part is, most of these people don’t know real love or real heart break. Ask them something about their partner that is slightly beyond the obvious, and they’ll look at you as if you asked for a derivation in trigonometry.

I have a strong feeling this is the result of our films and our media. Or maybe these people are just losers. Who knows.

Hundreds of people killed in blasts and earthquakes and what not, but,

yuss yuss, its infinitely tragic that the boyfriend does nor care about the girlfriend’s broken nail.

There shall be 20 tweets, 10 status updates, 1 blog and 2 poems about it.

Just wait and watch. The dunk heads. Er.. insensitive much?