She Kills

It was 1 o’clock on a Thursday night. I was there alone on the terrace of my apartment building, walking off a typical working day’s stress. In a world of Personifications, I was not alone. I was with my best friend. Actually, she was there for me, hiding in one of my trouser pockets. Like a little child playing hide and seek, she hid herself there giggling, even though she knew I knew where she was because I was the one who put her in there. Yet, she hid there; she knew I would kill her. But she would not give up so easily. She had a plan to kill me in return.

Now as my nicotine-quest was rising alarmingly, partly accompanied by the knowledge of her presence, I reached for her. She jumped out of her little golden colored box happily; she was not scared anymore; she would take her revenge; later. I did not care. After all she was my best friend. She would die for me. I knew she would. So, I set fire to her head. It made me happy. I sucked her blood. I loved it. This act brought great relief into my soul; the relief a vampire feels when he tastes blood for the first time after a thousand years of hibernation. I enjoyed it. I sucked hard. No more pain. Pleasure. Relief.

Burn. Burn. Ash. Ash. Smoke. Smoke. Relax. Think. Think. Tap. Think. Smoke. Smoke. Burn. Burn. Ash. Burn. Relax. Think. Think. Abuse. Smile. Free. Tap. Tap. Burn. Smoke. Ash. Smoke…

Without a word spoken, I had shared everything with her; my pain and pleasure, my despair and joy, my anguish and comfort. She was my best friend. At that moment I loved her more than myself.

For some reason, I had a feeling that she was becoming happier every time I sucked her blood in, despite the pain I was causing her. Her head brightly glowing, she was laughing. It was not the laughter of a weakling; it was enormous; terrifying; she was stronger than me; yet I was killing her. She was still laughing. I sucked her blood faster in anguish. Even as most of her body was now dark-grayish ash she was still laughing.

When she was almost into ashes, this little friend of mine grinned and said “You may have me killed now. You don’t have much time left to join me in hell because the blood of mine you were sucking will take care of your throat and lungs. My siblings in those boxes will find my blood inside you. Today I die. Tomorrow they will take revenge for me. You will die soon. But, do not hate me for I made you happy. All that I ask from you is very little in return.”

I put her debris under my foot, did her last rituals, smiled and said “Die, die, die my darling”.

I looked at the golden colored box which read ‘Gold Flake. Kings. Honeydew blend. Smoking kills. Tobacco causes Cancer’

“I will never smoke again”, I whispered, though not for the first time.

Disclaimer 1: All the characters are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to myself, anybody or anything living or dead is totally coincidental.

Disclaimer 2: Do not come to any conclusion. I cannot be held responsible for misinterpretations.

P.S.: Read the disclaimers carefully.

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The truth behind being an Anti-United

I came across a United lover the other day who argued that in India there were only United and Anti-United people. I could not figure out why he had a say like that. I was an Arsenal lover but still not an Anti-United. But then….

It was one of those Super Sundays of English Premier League. It was Chelsea vs Manchester United. We had gathered at my flat to watch the live coverage on TV. Before kick-off we were all football lovers. Yes we ‘were’ ‘football’ lovers. We were all discussing the starting line-ups of both teams, strengths and weaknesses, formations, game plan, strategies, predictions and all that is footy. We as fans of different clubs like United, Chelsea, Arsenal and others were all united on one front – FOOTBALL. Now the match kicked off. Our blood pressure levels  were rising. I could see the tension mounting on each of my friend’s faces. They started getting restless. Chelsea attacked; United fans trembled with fear. United attacked; now it was Chelsea fans’ turn. I got a feeling that this could possibly be the best evening of my life; I mean enjoying football(eventhough not playing at that moment).

20 minutes into the game. Both the teams had had their worst and best moments of the day so far. Fans were getting restless. I could see some of the United fans lose their temper on a few occasions. They were getting over enthusiastic. Undoubtebly United are a great footballing team. They have played tremendous games, created unbelievable moves, played beautiful football, produced extraordinary players, given us those flying wingers, mindblowing finishers and unbeatable defenders. But that day, they had not done any of their trademark high quality stuff so far. But I loved the excitement my United friends showed.

40 minutes into the game. United, according to me(according to what I had witnessed in the past), were certainly not at their best that day. Neither was Chelsea. Half time was approaching; still no goals;  a handful of yellow cards; both the teams putting enormous pressure on the other all the time. My United friends, now were on an exaggerated support mode;  I was certainly not loving their enthusiasm anymore.

60 minutes into the game. I was becoming an ‘Anti-United’. In other words, they were starting to piss me off.

80 minutes into the game. I was an ‘Anti-United’. Yes I said to myself ‘I hate these bastards’ (though could really not say who I referred to here as bastards; may be all of them)

End of the game: They (so called United lovers) were no more football lovers. The love for the game was gone. There was hatred; hatred in everyone’s heart; hatred everywhere.

They were no more football lovers. Yes, they were now biased. They were United lovers. Not that United lovers are not Football lovers. They are. But when they are pushed to the egde of their seats because of  their supposed love for United, they seem more vulnerable to the ‘succumb to tension’ thing. Its not their fault. Because they are just ‘WANNABE*** UNITED FANS’. Yes there is a difference between genuine United fans and the Wannabes. There were two United fans who enjoyed the game more than wanting a ‘penalty corner out of a CR7 dive’. They knew. They were genuine United lovers. It was the Wannabes who made much noise in there. And I hated them. Not United.

It was then I realised why there is this general conception among United lovers in India that there are only United and Anti-United people in India. It is more of a misconception.

There are no anti-United people. They are just ‘ANTI-WANNABE –United’ people. It is the wannabes we hate. We do not hate United. Why do the wannabes act the way they act? May be because they are just wannabes. They never knew about United or Football and they will never know because they are just wannabes. They won’t exist tomorrow. They will be long gone. It is the true United lovers who know about the game and about United. And we are not against them. We are against the wannabes. We hate all of them; Bastards!

I am an Arsenal lover. I am not an Anti-United.

***Wannabe United fans are those who think it’s cool to be a Manchester United fan; people who try to fit in the league

P.S.: If you feel offended by this post, I am not sorry. You deserve it.

P.S.2: Soon to write a post about my love for United. 🙂

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