The Raven: Naga Version

I once sat near the door, my room doesn't have a window.

That day, I had a guest.

The guest was black, and I am not racist.

It was a raven bird, the indication of something sinister in most of the horror movies.

It looked sad, filled with negative energy.

I asked the guest, what brings you here?

That illiterate raven could speak only one  English word, Nevermore!

Every question I asked was met with the same reply, Nevermore!

Taylor Swift was better with her Evermore, I assumed.

Its Nevermore was plain annoying.

I tried chasing the guest away but like any other guest we know, the raven lacked the etiquette. 

I felt like torturing the guest in the Nazi way.

But I held on to my pacifist policy.

Just then I got an idea.

I brought my mobile phone, opened the YouTube app.

I screamed, Naga singers with American accent is going to help me. 

The plan worked, the raven flew away.

Just then I saw street urchins jumping with catapult in their hands.

The raven was on the ground, it was dead.

Soup for tonight! One said.

Never anymore! I replied.

YOUR GUN, MY SHOULDER

Shoot one’s gun from someone else’s shoulder,

This expression means, when Rose wants to do something dangerous or shitty but wants someone else to execute the task so that s/he is not blamed for anything in the end.  In Chanakya Neeti, this phase is taken into a whole new level to achieve the end goal. In politics, the end determines the means, which means even if your way of achieving your goal is unethical as long as you achieve it, you hold no guilty. Gandhi was an exception, he believed, means justifies ends. Hence, he vouched for morality in politics. But this post is not about political thoughts. I have something else to talk about. 

Sometimes we don’t even know that we are being used for the sake of friendship or family’s honour. While we were kids, someone might have executed their plans using us and we might not have been aware as our infant brain could have not comprehended it. But as we grew up, there might have been several experiences that proved how well we were played.

For years, because of my vocal, crazy, confident personality, I have been the bunker for so many shooters. There were times when someone lashed out their anger, frustrations, and disappointments on me just because someone said or did using my name. My name is not holy; anybody can use it in vain. However, using it to make me the scapegoat, while they remain pure and pristine is a coward act. Now, I am more matured, I know who wants to pull the trigger using my good broad shoulders. I don’t want to be a fighter cock; I don’t want to be the deceived friend. I think before I stand, I tell them to fight their own battles, if it is trivial, as it is good for self-development. If they get killed in the process, I swear I will host the perfect funeral for them. 

It does not mean we should not help our friends. Friendship means being there whenever they need us. However, we should be cautious when we help them, we should take into account all the consequences which might follow. Standing up for one’s friend is one thing and being the victim of someone’s victory is another. 

I could have brought up my personal testimony, but I do want to ruin the nights and days of those people who have shot their guns using my shoulders. They will eventually read this post and might recall the times when they thought they were smart. But actually, they were nothing but snakes. 

A Case of Murder in My Imagination

It was drizzling. I was walking towards my institute. The murder mysteries, the suspense thrillers and Who is the Killer? The genre least read and watched by many, were still lingering on my mind. Just then, I saw a man lying on the pavement. With his faded T-shirt and dirty jean pant he looked like a beggar. His motionless body made me assumed he was dead. I just could not ignore him but there was no passerby to help me out in solving the case. I went near him, I didn't dare to check his pulse, I was not wearing gloves and the first rule is, never tamper the crime scene. 

I ran to the nearest shop and call out the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper acted busy. To make him aware of the situation, I said, 'it might turn out to be a police case and you could be the first person to be interrogated as your shop is nearest to the spot'. He looked blank for a moment. Later, he called his neighbouring shopkeeper, and they went together to check on the man. I watched them from a distant. Much to my relieve, they said that the man was dead drunk but not dead. I thanked them and went my way.

I might have looked dramatic, but I believe, I did the right thing, alerting people of the situation. As of now, I continue to watch murder mysteries. Peace!