The Onion Hypothesis

Some say the universe is infinite. Let’s pretend it is.

Tier one (In The Video Game): The sacred hippo temple of village Leur is under attack . King Sordo with his army of fourteen men is trying to defend their hard won land against the brutal forces of Empress Citra. She is a legend; conquering every village, every vicious beast and every fortress of power the world has. Now it was their turn.

Sordo knows his troop of men would appear like a bleating goat before her battalion of fifty odd men in a direct combat, so he planned a sneak attack in the dead of the night.

Skilfully he and his men dodge all the night patrols around her army’s camp. With swords in hands they surround the grandest tent which their scout had confirmed earlier belonged to the empress.

Disposing off her guards he slits the back of the rusty brown tent and pounces on the feminine form sitting on a chair with maps in front of her, fixing the curved blade of his knife to her throat. Her whole body stiffens but she smiles. Oh how he loves that smile.

“Look around you,” she says.

Her soldiers envelope them on all sides while his bloodied, tattered men are dragged in with bound hands.

“We have seized the hippo temple, leave me or we will burn it to the ground.”

The sacred hippo temple protected his lands; if it was destroyed then his people would die too. It could not burn.

Taking advantage of this distraction, in one swift move his knife is in her hands and then in his heart.

Too late he grips her hand as he drops to his knees and blood soaks her nightgown right where his wound had been.

She looks at him with confusion and pain.

Realizing what he has done he drops her hand from his. His life ring had worked; the fatal wound inflicted on him had transferred to the one he was touching, his empress.

A silent cry and she is dead, lying at his feet.

But there is no happiness, there is no triumph.

Tier two (The Video Gamer): The boy hammers his thumbs around wildly on his ipad screen. His village is under attack. He started playing ‘The Battle Of Heva’ the previous week and is still on a lowly level six with a fifteen man army, one of whom died a few days back in an underground power dungeon while recovering a bonus life ring. This gamer who calls herself ‘Citra’ is a level forty- four player and is now out to conquer his village. He would never win. He devices a strategy and attacks her at night when her men are recharging their lives.

But it turns out she is expecting him to play this move, so she has already split her army in two parts; one half fights in the day time and the other at night while they recharge. Her night army takes over his hippo temple, his life-source, while he is out here to kill her. Ohhh! He feels so frustrated; he had her, he would have killed her but she holds out his temple as ransom in exchange for her life.

He is about to free her; no temple, no him; but she takes his knife and stabs him. Oh no!

But the bonus life ring! he remembers before he dies and activates it. His injury is transferred to her and she dies.

Yes! Victory. Her kingdoms and army is his.

The boy starts dancing on his bed.

Tier three (The Cosmic Magician): The giant red turban clad magician sits cross legged in the soundless space, serenely meditating, with the orb that is Earth resting in his hands. The threads of his magic travel swiftly through every heart on the planet.

He sees a boy immersed in a virtual game. The magician smiles and breathes triumph. On winning the game he fills the boy with joy and laughter; pulls a few strings and makes him dance.

Tier four (The Dreaming Being): Millions of light years away a being sleeps; its body a concentrated cackling white light. It sleeps and it dreams. It dreams of a giant magician sitting cross legged in front of a blue and green planet, with eyes closed tight.

It dreams a smile upon the magician’s lips and empties his mind with peace. Extinguishing his thoughts with its white rays, he connects him to his thousands of kin.

Tier five (The writer): You know who the writer is; just someone who believes.

Some say the universe is infinite. The biggest dilemma, is it?

Let’s pretend we believe them for a few minutes and skip down the steps till its edge we reach.



A witches’ brew to find everything

You shall need the following:

A safe haven wherein you forge your spell:

A bubbling bazaar under an overzealous sun with dusty, red brick lined shrunken lanes, cunningly tucked in banal corners; their narrow veiled entrances visible only to a pair of eyes curious or habitual enough. Dark heads, chattering tongues, clammy bodies crawl like insects everywhere, sucking in the sweat and perfume filled air of the streets. This is my territory, the place where I conjure.

Collect the ingredients:

A lost boy, A young thief, An ambitious lady preferably in her mid thirties and An old man with a hunched back.

Then wait for the opportune moment:

A lost boy about six years old wanders the streets, searching for the hint of white clothes that was his mother. Squeezing between the giant bodies of the crowd, he pushes forward, wiping his eyes and nose with his hands. He can’t breathe; it is so tight. The streets circle endlessly under his tiny feet. He is thirsty; he is tired and mother is lost but he searches and I wait.

A young thief of eighteen, born and raised in my lands prowls the marketplace, hunting for unsuspecting targets and the riches they hold. Blind to the color and wondrous haze, he leans on the electricity pole outside the corner purse shop. Spotting a woman engrossed in her shopping he starts following her and I wait.

An ambitious woman in her mid thirties enters the bazaar with urgency in her steps. She speeds past the cluster of shops selling shoes, the one with steel utensils of every kind, the tiny cloth covered shed selling lace, the hawker pushing a cart full of jewelry, the corner purse shop. Her eyes scan everything but her heart still yearns and I wait.

An old man with a hunched back and age masked by wrinkles, stops suddenly as he drops the pair of socks he is carrying in a white paper bag. He looks at the bag for a few minutes then reluctantly bends down to pick it up, while cursing his fused joints. As he rises again a crying child in the middle of the market catches his attention. He waddles towards him with a melting heart and I wait.

When the time is right you cast the spell:

I whirl, I twirl, in corners I curl;

an evil laugh, a soft moan;

I stun, I run, the spell is begun.

Enter your observations in your spell book for future use:

The old man finds the lost boy. He holds his hand, squats down and asks why he cries. The young one says “mom” and continues crying. With promises to find the lost mother both of them join the crowd. A pink candyfloss is offered and accepted, crying ceases and mother is forgotten. In front of a small shop displaying sequined colourful jackets embroidered with diamond shaped mirrors a dust devil forms sending them both inside the shop, rubbing their eyes.

The young thief follows the rushing woman with ease. She doesn’t suspect; an easy target. She doesn’t stop, nothing interests her. The thief starts making his move; walking fast towards her, his eyes fixed on her purse but she stops in front of a small shop displaying sequined colourful jackets embroidered with diamond shaped mirrors with a triumphant gleam in her smile. A dust devil suddenly forms sending her inside the shop with the thief following her.

Introduce yourself to the reader of your spell book:

I am the dust beneath their shoes. I coat their skin. I invade their breath. This is my land on which they roam.

I was their ash and now their sire;

I know their heart’s deepest desire.


The little boy jumps with delight seeing the offerings of the shop. The whirlwind is now a distant myth; the rhomboid mirrors reflecting back his cherubic face the only truth. Everything is a djinn’s whisper, full of wonder and allure.

The young thief is not deterred. He nicks the woman’s purse and pockets the money with practiced ease as she is immersed appraising the bejewelled fabric. A hungry id and aberrant morals are everything.

The arduous woman finds what she seeks; a way to shine, to stand out and make her mark in the world. Trying on the jacket she feels unique. The world is her and her alone. The desire to conquer is everything.

The old man smiles while looking at the jubilant child. He must find the young one’s mother but for now he is content with the child pulling him along to show the marvels. The warmth of a touch is everything.

And herein your spell is done.

Picture credit-pixabay

Shiny shiny sunshine award

Could it get any better? Sunshine award from O’Shine himself!  Thank you for nominating me.I appreciate it.

It has been a little over three weeks since I started blogging and I found some wonderful, kind and helpful friends out here. Never imagined I would know so many people from all over the world from different walks of life. It has been a pleasure befriending you all and getting to know you and stalking you:roll: is an amazing blog presenting incidents from his daily life in a funny, creative and relatable narration (with special emphasis on his various past and present love pursuits; hope you didn’t mind O’Shine, I couldn’t resist.)

Do visit his site.

Now in answer to his questions:

10. What in your opinion is amiss with the world?

First I thought empathy, but my answer would be commonsense.

Although on a more serious note, I think the world doesn’t have enough teleportation helmets. Mine broke down weeks ago and hasn’t been replaced yet.

9. Who is your favorite world leader and why?

Me, obviously. You ask why? Because I know the secret; I just have to do three things. Discover a way to reverse baldness, promote the porno industry and give unlimited free lifetime supply of ice cream to everyone and the world is mine.

But I have idolized Swami Vivekanand ever since I was kid because of his philosophies of life and the humble nature he owned. He was a great leader and is still.

8. What makes you laugh?

Dry humor, scrubs, The big bang theory, making fun of my family and my best friends who I know won’t kill me for it.

7.Do you love cars? If so which is your favorite?


I see myself as more of a biker girl cruzing down lonely desert roads, not now but maybe in the future. But one day  I could own a jaguar, if I don’t spend all my money on shopping.

6.Do you love speed? What’s the highest you’ve ever done?

I am a big fan of my life so I’ll just say the max I’ve gone is 70-80 km/hr.( don’t laugh)

5. What is your favorite sport and why?

Sumo wrestling. I am working my ass off in qualiflying for the weight criteria.(I’m not overweight, I just eat a lot). I hope I’m not offending any culture.

I gave up all forms of physical activity a few years back. Butz, once upon a time I played football, in school, when it was compulsary to choose a sport.

These days I’m more into running around in the hospital all day.

4. Who’s your favorite sports person and why?

No one specific but I’ll support anyone who looks good ( I’m talking about guys) and is not drowning in his big ego.

3. Tell me about your favorite trip abroad. To which country?

I have never set foot outside India. But there are two trips I enjoyed a lot.

One is when I went to  the Golden Temple with my family. On the train ride there I kept imagining an old love story of heer and ranjha, while looking at the semi arid scenery outside.

The other one is of a visit to the pink city Jaipur. Our hotel was besides a lovely green hill and there were monkeys on the street!

I would like to visit Japan someday and see cherry blossoms.

2. What does your blog mean to you?

It has come to mean a lot. I meet new people everyday, I find new things, dive in lovely stories and art and knowledge and I get to improve my writing and painting.

But the best thing is I found a family here.

1.what’s my blog like to you?

In Indian villages there is usually a giant tree under which people of the village collect in small groups, elders playing cards, housewifes chatting, children playing with marbles, young men oogling beauties. Your blog brings me that feeling of belonging and home.

The way you narrate your tales it makes me feel as if an old friend is sitting besides me and telling me what happened and we are laughing together.

Now the rules:

1.thank the person that nominated you.

2. Answer the questions from your nominator.

3. Nominate fellow bloggers you follow.

4. Give them 10 questions to answer.

My nominees are:

utopianweb.wordpress. com

iwritethis.wordpress. com

breathingpark.wordpress. com

arjunshivaram.wordpress. com

amazingwanderlust.wordpress. com

chloedouglasblog.wordpress. com

My questions to you:

1. If you were to choose an insect that would take over the world after human extinction, who would that be?

2. How old were you when you first read Harry Potter? And your favorite author of course?

3. If you were invisible what is the craziest thing that you would do?

4.what food makes you feel like a hungry hyena?

5. A song that makes you dream?

6. Have you ever planted a tree?

7. Choose your man: superman/ Spiderman/ iron man and if he was your best friend one thing that you would make him do?

8.How much time do you spend in front of the mirror everyday?

9.why you started blogging and tell us about the post enjoyed the most making.

10. Which social media platform are you addicted to (including WordPress)?

Thank you.

I’ll meet you behind closed eyes

You are in an underground parking lot. A bright cloudless blue day awaits outside but here it is dark and glum with no difference between day and night.

In the artificial dim light of the parking you walk towards your car with keys in hand and your footsteps echoing down the giant hall.

Just as you are about to open the door you hear a man’s soft whisper in your ear.
” Please kill me,” he says.

Startled, you turn around with a thundering heart.

There in the shadow of the pillar just before you stands a hunched paper thin man.

Seeing that he got your attention he steps forward. In the light as you see his face you gasp. Large yellow bullae cover his face and hands.And where there are no bullae the skin is peeling off in dark heaps revealing raw red surface beneath.

As you take a step back, he faints.

You battle it out with yourself whether to go and help him or to run.

The kind side wins and you move forward both concerned and afraid.

Kneeling down besides him you call the ambulance and check him visually, too afraid to touch.

He slowly opens his eyes and looks at you. The pain and hope for a little help pierces your heart.
Your chest squeezes tight as if his pain is your own, a shiver runs down your spine and your skin tingles with the anguish that is his.

He gently opens his flaking lips and repeats
“Please kill me, it hurts.”

You close your eyes once and let the pain pass through.

” The ambulance is coming” you reaassure.

Every minute falls down heavily with a thud but you wait. What else can you do?

Then as suddenly as he had appeared you see him draw a deep shuddering breath and you just know that it is his last. He is no more, says a mysterious cosmic connection within you.

You go home and collapse on your bed after the harrowing long day.

You know you couldn’t kill him but still just once remembering his pleading voice, your heart wonders.

No,you decide. You could not. You are not brave enough to break yourself or anyone for that matter.

But the decision was never yours. Until the end there is always hope.

And hope remains even after the end.

‘Then slowly slowly we break’, you think as he visits you behind closed eyes.


This piece of fiction is a result of studying dermatology all day.

The scenario I imagined here is how any normal person would have reacted. Though there are many things I would have done differently but the most important one is don’t assume someone is dead until a medical professional confirms it. Immediately start cpr. Every second is important. You might save someone’s life.

This was a bit dark but otherwise I’m a very happy person who loves cuddly teddy bears, unicorn poop, rainbows, butterflies and chocolate chip cookies.

But I tried this point of view for the first time. Let me know if reading this had any affect?

The Ancient Saga Of Aliens And The Assassinated Sandwich…

Millions of years ago Jack’s ancestors had discovered the supertasty sandwich. Dressed in their leopard print underpants they had danced around it with exuberation after their success.

Little did they know that the mouth watering, taste bud tingling, spicy and gooey crunchiness of the sandwich would start a war between two planets. At that time they still believed the earth was triangular.

But day before yesterday the three eyed, green aliens attacked again for the third time in history seeking to destroy the supertasy sandwich which was the source of unlimited power to anyone who could eat it.

You see the supertasty sandwich protection society ( STSPS) was formed to protect it from villains. The alpha commando of STSPS ( Jack) was responsible for locking the sandwich in an underground bunker in the event of such attacks.

So that day, in the sheer panic and chaos caused by the alien attack Jack wrapped up the supertasty sandwich in a gold encrusted bag and went to the underground bunker.

But when he reached it, an alien stood blocking the door with a smirk on his face. He laughed the evil laugh and snatched the sandwich from Jack’s hands and ran away.

‘Oh no! Not the supertasty sandwich’ Jack thought.

Obviously he followed. He passed the screaming humans and snickering aliens; he ran like hell until he reached the green alien with the supertasty sandwich, panting and huffing for breath.

The alien did the unthinkable. He dropped the sandwich on the ground. No one could eat it after that.

But what the alien did not know was that Jack had licked the sauce off his fingers while he was packing it. He was now a superhero with infinite strength.

He flicked the alien aside with a single sweep of his hand and started beating aliens left and right.

They all left, scurrying away on their tiny legs and have not been seen ever since.

This story is based on an actual event but nobody is aware of the heroism Jack showed to save planet earth the day before yesterday. I request you all to spread his story all over the world so that Jack receives the credit he deserves.

Also he feels extremely grateful for the opportunity daily prompt provided to tell the saga of the supertasty sandwich.