Insomniac ideas – 1

In a world where only one thing is growing faster than the population, and that is frustration, shouldn’t all of us think of doing something to help our people vent it out?
Just watching the news and a little bit of Googling, I noticed that there is indeed an effective way of doing it and people have discovered that!

It has a simple 5-step recipe.
1. Bend down
2. Open your shoe-laces
3. Remove your shoe and pick it up
4. Get up
5. THROW THAT SHOE ON THAT BLOODY FACE IN FRONT OF YOU!

This therapy to get out of a frustrated mind seems older than the discovery of fire (apologies for a little exaggeration). But I am sure if you are a 90s kid, or a 60s kid, or 20s kid, you would have been directly or indirectly participated in this beautiful art which has been expanding globally.

Here we have the wikipedia link

But have you ever been in a situation, when you so badly wish to throw that shoe in that face but only because it was a Puma or Nike one, you changed your mind? Well, you can’t ask that person to give back the shoe after you hit. That would seem so rude. So, belonging to a generation of people that get startup ideas faster than I decide to leave the bed in the morning, I saw a dream. I dreamt of a world where people will be shoed irrespective of not only if they deserve to, but also irrespective of the shoes the thrower is wearing.
State-of-the-art shoes made for the sole purpose of throwing them. Your one throw to fame! Cheap, strong, polished with black ink, bathed with fresh fragrance of stale socks for maximum impact. Probably we could make them even more efficient by some target locking mechanism. Tell me what you think of this. Or you can order a shoe to hit me if you hate the idea. Though that will be a situation of catch 22.
Enough.
Brain! Go! If you had Indian parents, they would tell you to get married to protect your sanity!

Evening blues

image

As the sun sets and it’s time to go home
A strange figure moves at the horizon
Its spectacles reflected the dying light
As the creature drank the water from the sea

Suddenly my eyes open and I see around
Moon has risen, highway still jammed
Around 7-8 people more in the bus
Expressing the frustration in their own ways

I see a lady with reddish brown hair
Communicating her inability to fly to someone concerned
A man with a moustache thicker than his arm
Murmuring best wishes for everyone who’s on road

A young man with a French cut
Staring at infinity and lost in its beauty
There’s also the conductor for whom keeping his sleepy eyes open
Is as easy as completing a marathon with a bun in the oven

There, I hear a slap from an elderly woman to her child
The favorite way of venting out by parents
And of course, the guy of my age sitting beside me
Reading what I write, scared of this creepy sight

Oh, the traffic moved!
The gush of air and the moods soothed.