DISCLAIMER: This piece was written by the author when his mind was under the influence of the inimical combination of jetlag and boredom. If you find it weird and meaningless, do not
be surprised. That's how it was intended to be.
'The spiders all in tune,
The evening of the moon,
Dreams are made winding through my head.'
Had it not been for the fact that they made no sense to me, I would have sued System of a Down for these lines ages ago. Why can't man leave us alone? There is no superhero named Locust Man. There is no Grasshopper Solitaire. Lamborghini doesn't call the convertible variant of Gallardo a wasp. Why does it always have to be us spiders? Not only are we used as and when needed, our cities are mercilessly destroyed every now and then, and the remains are treated like dirt. It is no surprise, hence, that we loathe men, particularly the ones finicky about cleanliness.
I am more broad-minded though, at least by arachnid standards. Men are not always nefarious beings. They have their soft spots, too. Mankind is extremely considerate at times, especially when it comes to issues such as plagiarism. I wrote a novel recently titled 'Uragon', which was an outright rip-off of 'Lord of the Rings' (a novel by a human named Tolkien). Even the name of my protagonist sounded similar to the one in the original, Aragorn. Though, being an Arachnid, I did not have anything to fear, I was still afraid that, someday, my stealth would be discovered. My fears were quelled a few years ago thpugh, when I learnt that another rip-off, this time by a fellow human, had been released, and this time around, the protagonist was named Eragon- another spin-off of Aragorn. Why, I even heard that, despite the obvious plagiarism, it turned out to be a huge success. What a bunch of dolts!
I happen to have an inexplicable liking for the human in whose room I am put up. Though it may sound outlandish, we have a lot in common. Neither of us can sing too well. I have two, sorry, eight left feet, and he can't dance to save his life either. His aversion to cleanliness is what I like about him the most, though. His room has now become one of the most sought after locations in the country, though there are myths regarding the existence of a canine in Jawahar whose room is even filthier.
Dela has been acting weird today though. It is probably the chillness. Holy crap! Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Some orange-clad weirdo has just handed Dela a broom. I must warn the others before it's too
P.S: Got hit. Won't live much longer. Can't complete the story. G89 no longer safe. Don't mourn my death, brothers. Avenge it. Dela has turned over to the dark side. He's started cleaning his room. Et tu brute!
be surprised. That's how it was intended to be.
'The spiders all in tune,
The evening of the moon,
Dreams are made winding through my head.'
Had it not been for the fact that they made no sense to me, I would have sued System of a Down for these lines ages ago. Why can't man leave us alone? There is no superhero named Locust Man. There is no Grasshopper Solitaire. Lamborghini doesn't call the convertible variant of Gallardo a wasp. Why does it always have to be us spiders? Not only are we used as and when needed, our cities are mercilessly destroyed every now and then, and the remains are treated like dirt. It is no surprise, hence, that we loathe men, particularly the ones finicky about cleanliness.
I am more broad-minded though, at least by arachnid standards. Men are not always nefarious beings. They have their soft spots, too. Mankind is extremely considerate at times, especially when it comes to issues such as plagiarism. I wrote a novel recently titled 'Uragon', which was an outright rip-off of 'Lord of the Rings' (a novel by a human named Tolkien). Even the name of my protagonist sounded similar to the one in the original, Aragorn. Though, being an Arachnid, I did not have anything to fear, I was still afraid that, someday, my stealth would be discovered. My fears were quelled a few years ago thpugh, when I learnt that another rip-off, this time by a fellow human, had been released, and this time around, the protagonist was named Eragon- another spin-off of Aragorn. Why, I even heard that, despite the obvious plagiarism, it turned out to be a huge success. What a bunch of dolts!
I happen to have an inexplicable liking for the human in whose room I am put up. Though it may sound outlandish, we have a lot in common. Neither of us can sing too well. I have two, sorry, eight left feet, and he can't dance to save his life either. His aversion to cleanliness is what I like about him the most, though. His room has now become one of the most sought after locations in the country, though there are myths regarding the existence of a canine in Jawahar whose room is even filthier.
Dela has been acting weird today though. It is probably the chillness. Holy crap! Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Some orange-clad weirdo has just handed Dela a broom. I must warn the others before it's too
P.S: Got hit. Won't live much longer. Can't complete the story. G89 no longer safe. Don't mourn my death, brothers. Avenge it. Dela has turned over to the dark side. He's started cleaning his room. Et tu brute!
