Insp-irrational

This sudden onslaught of clouds will part.

And the sun will beat down upon me again.

I will make my way cunningly, unfalteringly.

As I stride puddles, and all that would come in my way.

The musky smell of the earth will rise to greet me.

And not a drop will make me shiver.

But for now,

I wait in the shadows, sheltered.

For that one perfect moment.

I really, really wish I hadn’t forgotten my umbrella.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Ask almost any cartoon/comic/movie villain what he wants for Christmas. You’ll get a few answers like, ‘One million dollars!’ or ‘That Wascally Wabbit!’. But those are just villains being petty. Keep at it. Ask them what they really, really want.

After much guffawing and moustache twirling, (speaking of which, you think the Joker wakes up every morning and shaves? What a nice young man! Wait, I diverge), the answer is almost certain.

World domination. Global Conquest. Bow before ______.

Loki wanted it. Lex Luthor wanted it. Vandal Savage, Dr. Evil, The Sinister Six… point being, it’s what makes every villain need a new pair of underpants when they wake up. With the slight exception of Bane of the not-yet-watched-but-soon-planning-to Dark Knight Rises; he just wants to take over Gotham. Big muscled, small minded villain that he is.

But the principle of conquest is a constant. Ask any comic book geek, they’ll tell you the same.

Of course, no matter the diabolical plan, no matter how big or grand or evil, they can never and shouldn’t ever get it. Because for every villain, there’s a hero to fight for justice, liberty and all things sugary in the world. And given a long enough timeline, the hero always wins.  It’s the way it is. And with good reason too. Not just for the good of the world and the hero. But for the villain too.

Villains must fail. Their scheming plans must have a loophole to exploit. They actually, secretly need to fail. Let me explain.

So a villain takes over the world. Then what?

A crowning ceremony would be in order, yes. One of proportions that would get residents of the most parched parts of Somalia salivating somehow. Only fit for a villain. But then what?!

 Then, with the diamond studded throne and all riches that come with it, must come the sword that hangs above it. Not assassination. Something far, far worse. Administration.

So, the Villain of villains, the ruler of as-far-as-the-eye-can-see-and-then-some has to make slaves while the sun shines.

He’ll have to reform the employment schemes or abolish them. Put a system in place. Who are the slave masters going to be? Who’s going to be the slave master’s masters?  A pyramid of hierarchy must be made, with the throne on top. Maybe that’s why the Egyptians built the pyramids in the first place. Huge, blatant hierarchy-for-dummies charts.

And then, there’s the ever-present matter of corruption. If it can’t be stopped today, Lokpal or not, then in a world ruled by a villain, would villainy be encouraged or dissuaded? Would said villain see promise in young criminally-inclined upstarts who pilfer riches, or throttle them? It’s something to think about. Note: if a villain runs a perfectly clean, completely efficient system, it might just affect his street cred.

Of course, there’s the boredom of it all. What’s a villain to do once he gets everything he wanted? There is only so much guffawing and posturing you can do to maintain your villain status, from there on you’re a leader, just another leader. In fact, villainous boredom is such a good reason, they made a movie on it. Watch Megamind. Not just for proof of my point, but it’s a complete laugh riot too.

To cure boredom, he could always try to take over nearby planets, but then that would involve admin work too. Launch a space program, an offensive one. Make a note to self to allot a certain percentage of taxes collected to space research. Hire a bunch of scientists. Yawn.

No wonder, no villain ever succeeds. They try. But secretly, all they want is to just shoot themselves in the foot. Probably explains why villains will spill every little detail of their plans to the temporarily captured heroes instead of just shooting them in the face. It’s a veiled, little cry for help.

It’s a tough life being a villain. No wonder, the half of them are crazy.

Why I chose Micromax

The battle has always been about what’s in our pants, only now it’s moved a little sideways. To what phone’s in our pockets. How big is it? How clear is it? How can I play with it? Would women want to look at it?

My generation, the 1986 born, may have been one of the last generations to have gone from ‘Whoa! A telephone at home?!’ to ‘Whoa! Phones can be cordless?!’ to ‘Whoa, It’s about the size of a brick but you can take it anywhere you go!’ to the recent ‘Whoa, I don’t even remember where my camera and mp3 player are at!’. And as a result of which, we still remember what phones are actually for, calling. And messaging of course, which was about the only cool thing you could do with a phone for the greater part of the mobile revolution. Besides Snake, possibly the only game that could get Angry Birds really foaming at the beak.

All I need in a phone are the basics, fancy functions be damned. It’s like, sure there are nuclear weapons and rifles that fire a thousand rounds a minute, but sometimes a well-aimed stone, though rather Neanderthal-ish, gets the job done just fine. And Micromax lets me do just that. Call and message, quite decently too. Sadly, not Snake. The bastards.

Even if I did want my phone to do more than a phone should naturally do, phone manufacturers don’t make the situation easy. Choosing one mobile phone, just one, isn’t easily done. There are newer phones releasing every day. Newer operating systems, better cameras, Steve Jobs-ier, bigger screens, brighter screens, clearer screens, stylish, more stylish, Mango, Apple, Blackberry and a lot of other fruitiness, not in the good way, happening in between. So while it’s all fine to have a lot of choice and all, wants are unlimited, means to satisfy them are sadly not so. Yes, I did study Commerce.

And so my Micromax becomes the Che Guevara to the tyranny of modern phones. It’s the natural rebel of all things desirable. Is it smart? Balls. Is it stylish? Only in the remoter parts of Somalia. Apps? Games? Whatsapp? HD Video? Fuck you. Non-conformism, at its purest.

So while the rat race of phones goes on, of which phone is better and faster, the Micromax chooses to stand by and watch the other phones sweat it out on-field. It’s so far behind the race, it doesn’t even need to participate anymore. It’s that damn cool.

Which of course, is why I bought it.

Also, the phone was dirt cheap and I was broke.