True joy
I have often wondered what the source of true joy could be. And upon pondering enough and finding no solution, I have left it at that. But this morning I was reminded of someone by someone else and the solution came rushing to me as the stench from a typical Bangalore gutter.
The joy of living truly dwells in being a slave driver. Believe it or not, you cannot derive such unadulterated pleasure from anything else. Not even from chocolate. Oh hell…..not even from sex!!!
Imagine the whole world doing your chores. Dropping you off at your rendezvous when they’re not even gonna wait back and say “Hi!” to the 3rd party. Buying you your most coveted delights, without a gesture in return. Laughing heartily at your worn-out, pale jokes as if their lives depended on it. Dispensing ideas to you like an automaton so you can boast to your friends (or other potential slaves) about how you thought of it while you were choking on food. Also the food in question was bought for you by the slaves, but they can’t talk about it, can they? And oh yes, listening to your “almost always wrong” advice on anything and everything. What fun, I say!!!
Losers do exist in this world, waiting for that mediocre person with an uncanny talent to trap them with their pitiful stories and even more pitiful looking faces. One look and the losers will go out of their way to cloak the puddle as the dominant smile on the now not-so-pitiful face splits like a banana under the weight of the cream.
So, what’re you reading this for? Go get your own.
so does that mean I have gotten my true joy…slave?
!
Comment by Vandana — January 9, 2006 @ 11:33 am
Well…perhaps you have! Or on the other hand you haven’t. You seem to have missed the line that talks about pitiful face. That very ingredient is missing. Dontcha think?
Comment by Anup — January 9, 2006 @ 11:52 am
uh huh boy, ur vain but pitiful face…maybe just so
Comment by Vandana — January 10, 2006 @ 9:07 am