Share or Die

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As I sit here wondering how stupid I could be to not clarify that doubt on the Shakespeare post, about his sexuality affecting his credibility, I find today’s story. You see, this is one of the best controversies I ever came across in my life, and I remember spending considerable time when I was really very young, deciding whether I should believe it or not.(In fact, it may be one of my earliest decisions. Like, before choosing my favourite colour.)

Have you heard those tales of people dying by unjust ways and their ghosts coming back for sweet, and very bloody, revenge? And if you commit the mistake of not sharing their story when you read it, and hence defile their memory, you too will die that night, always in the darkest dark? Yep, that’s what I am talking about.These stories usually are pretty scary. And when I saw the following text in a comment on Facebook, the memories came back.

(The comment has not been modified, barring grammatical errors of spelling. Really don’t want more of that on my blog, and I make many.)

9 years ago a person named Jerry got dared to sleep in a house that was believed haunted.The next day his friends waited for him outside the house. They had to go inside and search for him. They went through every room exept the attic. He wasn’t supposed to sleep there. He was supposed to sleep in the living room. They went into the attic. They saw Jerry’s corpse and they just left because they were scared. But that night they all died because of their friend. He killed them all for making him sleep in that house

If you don’t send this to 11 comments you will die tonight by Jerry. Example 1:A man named Stewart Read this and didn’t believe it. He shut off his computer and went through his day. That night while he was in bed he heard something outside of his door. He got up to look. And now he’s dead. Example 2: A Girl named Haley Read this in the morning and she got scared but she didn’t send it. She wanted to know if it was true. She went to school (She was only 13 years old) and that night she died.

If you don’t post this on 11 comments tonight Jerry will ‘visit’ your house.

Okay, if some of you need to take a break and go post this, I understand.


Okay. So when I was arguing my stand on these matters, I finally decided that I will NOT be ruled by such notices that do nothing but invoke fear, and since then have never once shared any story. And here I am, alive and sound. Though who knows, I may be pushing my luck? But I refuse to let myself be carried away by rumours. If you got to kill me because I’m sensible, dear ghost, you really are full of it.

But fear, and religion I dare to say, have long been the “opium of the masses”. (Karl Marx :D) So I can’t judge the people who do share such comments.

However, the deathly stronghold such comments have! Marvellous! I can not boast of complete fearlessness myself, even with my conviction against such rumours. They ARE pretty scary.

And even my very able very smart cousin was once hell-bent on the existence of Bloody Mary. And this cousin we are talking about is actually so intelligent, she convinced me not to pull out a red colour-pencil in the dark ever or write in red in the bathroom. God, I dreamt CHILLING dreams that night. And with a vivid imagination, that MEANS something! Great job, Pakhi, you got your sister!

So check this space tomorrow. Either you will find a short update, with me gasping of how I made it, Thank Lord if he/she exists, or, if you really do not find any post, consider I pushed my luck too far and am very much taken, finally.

No sweat!


Sonnet 55, Shake-speare

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I am in Tenth Grade. And in tenth Grade, we are taught this particular Sonnet of Shake-speare’s. I find it gently pretty, but then, gently. And with all the aura Shake-speare has to his name already, and the added mystery around the Fair Youth and Dark Lady, I find it makes a great blog post- soemthing you and me can talk volumes about. (Remember what this blog is all about?) 😀

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments shall
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmear’d with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
‘Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

Isn’t it pretty?

We are taught in school, that the poet has so much love and admiration for this person he has dedicated the Sonnet to, that he immortalises him/her ( 😀 ) in his verse, and is so confident that this person will find a place in all future worlds, that he is sure to pass the ravages of Time, War and Death, the superpowers, and go on till Judgement Day. Did you understand as much? Frankly, I didn’t expect Shakespeare to be this simple, but maybe it’s the hype that’s more complex that his real work.

Anyway, I love the concept. And I admire the stern devotion, the irrevocable love, but I have questions. These are questions that are often deemed ‘beyond class discussion’, because, let’s face it, not everyone is interested to talk about this poem they don’t enjoy at all, and they can’t care less what the poem really really means. Cool. But what’s not cool is that the people who should be interested, literary geniuses and teachers, are also put-off and are more than willing to just frisk through it, take the Test and get on. Big problem for me.

Who will talk to me now about Shakespeare being gay or not, since his poems to this young, fair lad are at times pretty lovey-dovey? Who will research and decide, with me, who we think Shakespeare dedicated these Sonnets too, since there are speculations, and a shortlisting? Who will do all the debating, and all the deep thinking?

I was furious to find that I had not many people for this discussion. So I planned my revenge. And here it is.

I have a story, fiction pieces, for each of the two theories I so wanted to discuss and couldn’t. Now here, if you like any, all you need to do is write in in the comments and I’ll get back to you. Of course.

Story One; Theory one- Was S gay?

The night was heavy…

It had come suddenly, like a dark veil of ungainly dark, and had enveloped the entire town into eerie silence. There wasn’t a lamp that had burned against the ravages of that deathly dark, and the people sat in their homes, beside the fire in fear. A small winding road leading down the main path was exceptionally ghastly. The pebbles crunched furiously as the hooded figure walked down it. The road was wet, though it hadn’t rained a drop for the past day. The wind didn’t stir, as if it had rejected that part of town. The hooded figure soon gasped for breath. Faint, and pale, it reached the cottage at the end and clutched the rotting handle tight, in fear of slipping down. White knuckles rapped against the sallow wood door, and promptly, a man flung open the door. The frail figure fell with the sudden gush of the door, causing much alarm to the man who was expecting no visitor.

The figure was carried to the sofa and sat down, and water was brought. As the figure slowly came about, it pulled back it’s hood, to show the fair head of a young lad of twenty, and the boy was terrified.

“I am sorry sir, that you should find me in such timid a state, but I was rather hoping that you would dedicate all your Sonnets to me, henceforth, because you see what you write already pretty much sucks and you copy from here and there, and writing on me, hence, will give you the edge of being the first famous homo. What say you?”

And the man, for it indeed was Shakespeare, threw up his hands, and hugged the Fair Youth and danced and did a jig, and became famous.

There you go. Nothing great about his sexuality after all.

Story two; Theory Two- If S was gay, why the erotic mentions for the Dark Lady? Were they smart enough to invent Bisexual?

So Shakespeare wrote the Sonnets and people couldn’t understand half the context and half the mystery of the youth so they named him a maestro, and Shakespeare became famous. In fact, he got so famous that the Queen called for a meeting. And here, our story continues, which I remind you is fiction, and I have no clue what queen or what era or what fame.

Shakespeare looked outside the coach-window, and wondered if the people would like a Sonnet on grass and bees. He decided to ask the queen, as he was going to see her shortly. The queen. A nervous frown appeared on his intelligible forehead. What did the queen want to see him about? Surely he hadn’t yet won her heart. Was it to punish him? Had he gone too far? Was it the end of his career, was he indeed going to be sacked o his job? He tried not to think. Instead he tried to write and though the thoughts came easily, as he just had to twist famous tales, he soon felt tired. He admitted to himself, he was scared.

But Shakespeare arrived at court all sound, with no mishaps. And when he finally saw the queen who had asked for his presence, his heart melted. Such fair a lady, such beautiful a face… he would embrace death if that was what this holy entity wanted today. The sun fell soft on the queen’s small face, and it only brightened her deepest beauty. Her eyes, wide and dark and her mouth, so red and so firm, Shakespeare knew at once that his contract with the Fair Youth was off.

When he returned to his dismal cottage later, he remembered not what the queen had talked about, but set off dedicating his other Sonnets to her, and to save them both from the careful scrutiny of the king, he turned her fair white skin as lush but dark and wrote on about her.

And that’s how Shakespeare completed his Sonnets.

I do wish he had a smaller name, I would like him much better.

Anyway, this was me being ridiculous, and I expect you not to put much judgement into these words. I most certainly have nothing against the man, as yet, and I am very much willing to listen to critics or lovers alike. As I said, just a little piece of revenge.


This was added on the 21st of August, in response to certain comments and queries made to this post-

When I was writing this piece, I hadn’t thought of this aspect actually, that such a question could come up- whether I was questioning Shakespeare’s credibility on basis of his sexuality. I confess it was lame not to. However i intend to make it very clear it does not affect the work of art one bit if the creator is ‘straight’ gay lesbian, bi or trans; or for that matter, white black grey pink blue green; or Hindu Muslim christian atheist or the devil himself. maybe not the last, if there is a devil, but the point i was really trying to make, and the revenge that i really wanted was that in schools generally we ignore any topic that may be even remotely ‘uncomfortable’ …. that is a shame. So much for holistic development we boast about. So much for curiosity, so underrated, so much for wanting to think.

I don’t Like you anymore

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You will NOT believe how this blog post has come by. I will try to make you. Because that’s the whole point of writing this blog post… besides ratting out a huge egotistic feeling. Don’t worry, you’re not expected to understand any of that. I’m just making a beginning. Yeah.

There’s this great blog I follow. Of course, I’m not giving you the name, because I’m soon going to be very mean and very unethical. So this is me saving face in some roundabout way.

So this great blog I follow is written by a great guy. Obviously. And remember, great does NOT equal good OR bad, and I can vouch for neither. He’s turned in pretty hilarious posts pretty frequently, and that’s how we like bloggers to be. So, what’s wrong?


I liked his writing so much that I wanted to get to talk to him. Silly me. And on the blogging world, you just send a comment through, that’s how you start. I did that. I did that again. Soon I started enjoying his posts so frequently and was commenting all niceties so frequently, that it was like my own little blogging ritual. Yeah, I made all this happen in what, four months in here.

And then suddenly, very VERY suddenly, one nice bright morning (does anyone else see how it is always morning we get these epiphanic rises?) I realised how dumb I was being. Was I really thinking he was reading every one of those words? ALL those months? And who am I kidding? With the follow-ship he has, he probably doesn’t have time for ANY. He must just Approve everything JLT. (Just Like That)

So this is what I did. And yeah, this is where the blog post really begins. Yeah, after five paragraphs of intro. Didn’t you read my bio?

I had my own little personal revenge. Just like my own little personal ritual of reading devotedly and commenting even more enthusiastically. And it was…

Like Unlike
Like. Like. Like. THE MORNING. Wait! Unlike. Okay, Like. Ignore. Uhh… could be better. Like…

I don’t Like you anymore!

Okay, that didn’t work out pretty well. Because my conscience got in the way and I couldn’t even try to badmouth him, because really, this deep ingrained righteousness JUST KEPT shouting how it was always me, and he really didn’t do anything wrong.

Then there were his AMAZING posts, which is why I fell in love with his blog in the first place.

But what I could do was stop commenting UNTIL absolutely necessary. And controlling the clicks on the Like button too. Trust Facebook to make us devout addicts.

That incorrigible man didn’t learn even then.

He KEPT turning in good posts one after the other, one RIGHT after the other.

I learned how fragile a thing ego is. And discovered the maximum boundaries of stupidity. And I had to undo all the plan making and the revenge scheming and see the full bright picture. 

Really, what was I thinking? That was so dumb class. Who am I, talking about rights and laws and society when I couldn’t control one stray mistake?

But. But, but. (Whats is it about mistakes that you commit them over and over again and then see the light BUT when the next chance comes, you jump head in again?)

JUST as I was giving myself The Lecture, he published a post. What timing. And… it was bad. Believe me, his FIRST bad post in hundreds. He should get an award or something, for proving he was in fact human. Not the high-order Bot some of us might have mistaken him to be…

But look at this. Here I was teaching myself ethical behaviour. Here he was giving me the Chance of my Life. What do I do?

What do I do?

I take it. I opened The Page, and went through The Post and scrolled down and down… and further down….

and got to the Like button…

and passed it…

and got to the comments…

and passed it..

and Closed Down the Tab.

No Like. No Comment.


My personal little sweeeeet revenge. (For a crime that was mine, yeah.)

End of story.

Disclaimer: I wish I could say this was all fiction. But here comes that righteous pang again, saying in a Mahatma Gandhi voice- Be honest, be frank… and something about living a lie when you can’t be true to yourself. Oh for crying out loud! Okay, this is TRUE! I did it! Happy? What, cuff me! Take me to prison for feeling evil! You know what, take that blogger man along! 

Catch that CHEAT!

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We all have known a cheat sometime in our life. The experience is never half okay. But what do we do when we are betrayed, mildly or horribly? Be angry… Have revenge… Take ‘control’ lessons ( 😛 )…. Try to forget?!…. Prepare ourselves for ‘next time’…. et al. But not me. HE-HE-HE-HE-HE!

Not me. The first thing I do is make sure I push the rage out of me through some writing (you are reading this, remember?). And then…. HE-HE-HE… I stand ready with a  hammer behind that person, like his shadow, and hit him , POING!, on the  head every time I see it will hurt! Makes me seem like a monster, no? Not exactly, actually….

You try and play with me and I make sure I give you hell for that. For example, just an innocent example, I dedicate this ENTIRE post to that one person who has set me upset recently, and….. that person, just you wait. *Devil Horns*

FIRSTLY. Dearest reader, since you have made it this long into this post, you deserve to know that the furious volcanic temper discussed earlier is not that frequent. 😀 I DO forgive. I DO know there’s a thing called ‘mistakes’! I am not Satan’s child, seriously! But really, neither am I an apostle. So if people tiff with me, and cause me hurt just for the fun of it, those evil monsters, they can’t expect mere tears and fright from me, I AM AS BAD. And that’s only fair!

Running Man

NOW, back to that cheat. Scoundrel. Oh don’t  worry, I don’t hate you yet!

You hurt me. You knew it when you did. “Don’t be angry plssssss.” “Are you in an okay mood?” “I really feel awkward!” My foot.

You thought you would do it over the net, you didn’t have to see my face. You chose the last day of school. Nice touch, I must admit. But sweetheart, it’s just 48 days till I see you again. What will you do then, squeaky meeky rat-sy!!!

You thought you would copy the things I held dear, I worshiped, I LOVED myself for achieving! You stole all of that and thought that you could always lay back on ‘inspiration’! You DID tell me- “You are my true inspiration!” But what you didn’t account for was My New Policy.

Article One of which reads- Do Not Indulge in social service anymore, in social formalities anymore IF it co-incides with your General Well-Being.

I’ll make it simpler for you, you illiterate bufoon! It means I no more take crap from cheats like you (believe me, the insults repeat in this shallow circle only because of a certain Internet Code of Conduct in me.)

I no more sit back when someone takes advantage. I no more let it pass. Not I make BLASTS! I make sure everyone has heard of the disgusting thing you did, and I do it AS YOUR FRIEND. It’s simple; you play mean, I play false.

You stole My Things. I will make sure you never like that. But, look here smarty! I WON”T EVEN WASTE MY TIME ON THAT!

I’ll just push this ‘mission’ to the back of my mind until I find the opportunity (no planning, no time-waste) and then I SHALL STRIKE! And I’ll rest again. 🙂 I always did like dormant volcanoes you know.

What’s more, you thought you’d get away with it. You would tell the world- ‘Ya she was more into this kind of stuff but I just wanted to do this… You know, I always had this passion…” and so on. But anyone can read the fine print. They’ll know.

There is no law for this kind of crime. But it’s the make-or-break thing in school you know. Ohh, you’re so dead 🙂 (I can’t control my emotions! I can’t help it!)

Of course I am jealous! But that’s not gonna be your excuse. You’re gonna GO DOWN for treachery! Miss, who cares about jealousy, huh? And you thought you nailed it when a local news-bee chatted with you… “Ohh! So sweet!” he had said. Don’t make me laugh! That’s heights of cooing a baby! 

This is what I’ll do to you! Cartoon you already are, I’ll just make you this exhausted.I won’t even cry, “Catch that Cheat!” You are ALL MINE!

So there’s my 720 word love letter to you. Read it all? feel upset NOW? Good- see you later.

Disclaimer;  FICTION