Mister Secret Agent

Posted on

Fiction: You know it is! I never get a C! 😀

It was a cold day. The wind came in powerful gushes, and nearly swept me off my feet once or twice. But I had to go on, I had no choice. I was going to go to the library and read a book today even if that was the last thing I did.

Seriously man, how many C grades can a man take?!

So that was the agenda of the day, the freezing cold day. But as I was about to cross over the park, a heavy figure appeared on the road before me. It was walking towards me, and marvelously enough, not a shred of cloth on it’s person moved with the wind. Great, and I have to freeze with cold, and my own cap has to tug at my head horribly to get off! Perfect, just perfect!

The man, for it was a hulk a woman cannot achieve, stopped in his tracks.

“I have been waiting for you Ruchika,” he said, in a freakishly smooth voice. How much more cliched could it be- mysterious stranger in the night, in the park, with a husky voice and-

“How do you know my name?” I demanded.

“Please. With all the trouble you create for us, that’s the bare minimum we know about you, center player.” He said, lighting a cigar.

Super. He knows about volleyball too. Who do I create trouble for? Me, an innocent little teenager?

Let me see…

My teachers, my classmates, the Principal, the Head Mistress, the coach, the idiot who pesters me in Art…

Katrina Kaif, Salman Khan, Kristen Stewart, receptionists, secret agents…

Secret Agents!

Of course! The glued-on clothes, the cigars, the mystery, the meeting in the park at night. Now that’s cliched.

And the trouble he’s mentioning- understandable. I am a ready critic of how un-secretive secret agents are, how unintelligent their Special Intelligence is, and how boring their guns always look. Trouble enough? Maybe also that I openly discuss their techniques… and their obvious dumbness to believe the lookers during an Op!

But hold on, how many times do you meet a Secret Agent!

And if you met a Secret Agent (and knew he was a Secret Agent), won’t you have all the questions in the world to ask?! I do!

And so, even in the freezing cold, in the middle of the park, I asked him all my really serious questions. He was most cooperative. But then I had promised not to publish another paper proving their absolute inadequacy. By the way, a blog post is not the same as a ‘paper’!

Yes, you guys are age-less. But so many of you get killed, or retire to marry the girl next door. So how do you recruit new agents?

We don’t. We just take any new boy or girl on the streets who is good looking, then beat the rationality out of them, and so create more of our army, believing in the myth that we are really the people who run the world, while actually, everyone knows, it’s the U.S. Government. Of course.

Oh-kay… But how do ALL of you look good in tux? C’mon!
That’s Agent Training 101. We have got to look good in tuxes. Because if we don’t, we don’t get the casino girls, the easy entries, and we look the real shit we are when we get beat up. Also, that’s the least we can ensure, so we just do it. After all, that’s our calling card, ain’t it?

(Sticking out tongue) And which book do you all refer to that your dialogues are the cockiest replies while none are really very different from each other?

We copy. Me for instance, have already bended the dialogues from Rambo, G.I. Joe, Rocky, Tarzan….. and….. and of course, Barbie and the Diamond Castle. *smile*


And how do you fire your agents?


I mean, how do you sack them?

That too, literally.

What? Gosh! How do you- do you- kick them out?

Oh all the time! And literally. We just kick them out hollow.

You’re crazy!

No, I’m a Secret Agent.



Let’s Analyze the Rice Grain!

Posted on Updated on

"Seriously Analysing"

Today human beings can proudly boast about successful research about things as big as bulldozers, fires, chemotherapy, planets and solar systems, and the  dynamics of hair styling.

At the same time, We have analyzed trivial things like paper clips, wafers, pen nibs et al. Soon, every atom of any item in the ENTIRE world will have been analyzed (type, material, origin, +ve points, -ve points) and put in some patented research, and what will we do then? Will the geography lessons at school start a new chapter “Water Patterns on Mars”, in the near future? I really hope not.

Really, where are we going with the flurry of scientifically observing everything? And where did it all begin?!

Let those fingers go mad across the internet and you’ll find “studies” that have predeclared our thought patterns, when we will die and as has lately popularised, when the world will supposedly end.

Of course, this doesn’t in any way condemn scientific research. (Because where would we all be if we still believed the Earth was flat; on the centric-most point possible?)

At the same time, I call it unethically wannabe to write bizarre papers, specially when labels then ‘professional’ or ‘survey’! I mean, ‘women sleep more than men?’ Commmmeeee Oonnnnn!
One strikingly clear example of how absolutely futile these “researches” are is the common joke- how one wealth mag will tell you to eat potatoes for a long and healthy life and the other labels it “toxically fatal”! And its off the charts when the blissfully publishes in different issues of the same periodical!

And a last, mind boggling example; though the chapters don’t say it like this, the students of grades ninth and upward are some or the other time TAUGHT how to “properly” analyze… “Write Pre-requisite knowledge first, then the Aim and then List the materials required…”

God, we have analyzed Analysis itself!

The verdict is, just about anything we observe in the common, we like to study and then, take a report out on. So lets also analyze the rice grain. Though we have already done that too; Basmati, handpound, and what not! But the phrase defines aptly our obsession with “defining” and “labeling” things “scientifically”. So lets pick up that tiny grain and calculate the exact amount of white and other colours in it, or the number of carbon atoms?

Is this an obsession to know? Or what?