There are no more windows

There was once a story that was only a story. But it was a story that cannot be forgotten because the possibility of it haunts us. It was the story of the sky falling on our heads. What a calamity that would be, a calamity that nobody will live to tell. What happened after? That nobody will ever know because when the sky falls on our heads, it will be the end of things.

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Once upon a golden bird

Things of wonder are things of wonder. They make us wonder, or why else would we call them things of wonder? For instance that soney ki chidiya thing? What soney ki chidiya? Where is it? Where was it, is probably a more correct way to ask.

But an even more correct way to frame that question is probably this: When was it? When was this soney ki chidiya? Time please. Or Date. Or month. Or year. Or decade. Or century. Or millennium. Or whatever it is that was there before everything was.

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Badshahat Badshahat Badshahat Ameen!

The thing about power is… Well, should I let it out? In as open a space as a newspaper? Which goes into hundreds of thousands of homes each morning and may be read by five times more? Should I let it out in as public a place as a newspaper? Which has become as daily as brushing your teeth and, before that or after that other daily thing. You know what I am referring to. But don’t make mention of it. Please don’t stink up this place, we are already in the sixth year of those things. This place stinks, and you made it so. My compliments. Why? Go guess. I am the one who stinks, and you are the ones who brought me here and helped the stink spread. So relentlessly and unapologetically that the stink has become the norm. We stink and therefore we are. We need the stink in order that we can be all the things that are necessary things. The right things. The done things. The nationalist things, all of them that stink.

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This time is to say no to all the noes

What a stroke of luck, by God! Hai na? Isn’t it? I mean, chalo, just let it be. You won’t understand. You never ever saw an opportunity when there was a challenge. You only saw a challenge and let that challenge you. Some people see opportunity, they are the rare ones. They see a challenge and then… you know. But you would not know. You would have to be a certain kind. You would have to be the kind that, let me think, the kind that can say I have commerce in my bloodstream. Profits. Then whether you are in Verona (that famous balcony place, the same, or similar, balcony that we have been asked to go to and do this thing and that thing) or in Bharona (you know Bharona, don’t you, although it is best not to know it, Bharona being what it is, Bharona being something you cannot know for too long because before too long, Bharona gets to know you and then, khalllaaas). Bharona, it is so named because it makes you pay its dues. Millennial dues for millennial excesses. But were you a certain kind, you could make Bharona pay and make it a thing of advantage rather than a thing of deficit; you just have to know how.

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