Comfortably dumb

A man from the village of restrictions has a mind, a mind, which is conveyed by toughest of the bouncers. When I say bouncers, I literally mean, men with 20 inches of biceps and rareness of reasonability to who words like ‘why’ and ‘how’ occurs as often as a chemical fourth-order reactions. To them, every unfamiliar thought is a strange thought and every strange thought is a weird thought. The man from the village of restrictions generally stays calm, composed and easy until he meets an unfamiliar idea and when he meets an unfamiliar idea, he gets strangely weird. He rarely argues. He generally shouts. He generally shouts because he can’t argue. To argue, he needs new thoughts, to hustle new thoughts, he needs to get rid of those bouncers and to get rid of those bouncers, he needs to argue with himself.
He compromises with this catch and generally stays calm. He compromises because he is unaware of the catch. He is unaware of this catch because he never gave it a thought. He never gave a thought because it is an unfamiliar idea and with every unfamiliar idea, he gets strangely weird. Therefore, he generally stays calm. He believes, he doesn’t juggle between thoughts. But he never thinks, that he doesn’t possess many thoughts because thinking of not possessing much thought is an unfamiliar thought which drives him strangely weird and he is a man who loves to stay calm.

He thinks he is better than the man who lives in the city of acceptance. He thinks so because he feels so. He feels so on the basis of many such small feelings, he is obsessed with. Yes, he generally ‘feels’ what he thinks he is ‘thinking’. He feels that the man who lives in the city of acceptance is a liar and immoral. He also feels that he is selfish and can never be trusted. He feels that what all he feels is true. He also feels that the man from the city of acceptance has no feelings.

Altogether he is a happy man because he feels that an acre of land, a hard-working wife and a bunch of other men from the village of restrictions, who never talk about new things, comprises a happy life. He always sits idly, because he feels that grabbing time to sit idly from the busy life is the utmost goal and greatest achievement. At his death-bed, he feels very content and satisfied about his achievements of working hard to gather a lot of time when he didn’t work and sat idly.

He dies happily!

Rishabh Rai