Whenever a dog covers his poop with mud , he actually isn’t smearing the mud to hide or cover it up . Also, your dog doesn’t mean to bake perro-poop-cake-seasoned-with-mud-toppings . All he does instead is , spreading his scent to mark it’s territory.
Stay out of my territory you scallywag ,
only I poop here!!!
is what he wants others to know.
So, ever since I set my foot on this planet , people have been perpetually pooping over my life and spreading their scents all over . pause that .
*winces in disgust*
Hmmm, and I thought of writing a detailed story on it as I did with my dog dynasty .
(get the links- The ‘kaalu’ Chronicles! – Part I -my ‘khaandani’ pet dog and
The ‘Kaalu’ chronicles – Part 2)
I did this partly because I’m out of ideas for now and partly because I’m tired of telling it so I better start writing it.
This uptil now, was the prologue and that’s a trick I’ve thought of lately to force people into reading it because I , for one, am deeply into the habit of skipping prologues.
CHAPTER-1 : Alpha
Mother Teresa was born on august 26th, 1910 . She really was a big time sacred soul and did a lot of things people don’t give a crap about. However, she died on september 5th , 1997.
Four days later…..
I took birth on the mortal land in the apple-rose continent of jambudweep better known to us as India. This incarnation I believe, happened , to make up for the loss inflicted on us four days prior.
My actual handwriting too, is as good as this font , only better at times.
My skills ? I can’t milk a cow .
There are days when I can’t even burst a bubble wrap properly , but then , there are days when I just might operate a lathe machine all on my own and cut out a dildo from cast iron !
But that isn’t how mechanical engineering works.
YES! I’m from mechanical and NO! we aren’t all pervs ,
and YES! we rarely have any girls among us (on a binary count , if so), and NO! we don’t drool at the sight of one ,
and YES! we exist , and NO! we’re not barbarians ,
and YES! we do have an uncanny taste for fun , and NO! we don’t kill each other over bread (or jerk off during lectures) . Aforementioned are just a few of the countless ‘stigmas we have to go through’ every single day.
Apart from these trifles , this incarnation seems to be going just fine so far . As of this writing , I’m a sophomore engineering student with three live backlogs to my credit.
So let’s start from the beginning .
I always thought I was special and born with a purpose , and upon doing anything beyond ordinary , palpated my forehead for that harry-potter-lightening-bolt mark. But sigh ! the bubble used to burst as soon as someone sent me to fetch errands (which was very often). I was one-and-a-half year into this planet when I learnt to walk and three years into it when sent to school to make a nice , educated gentleman of myself ,which I did , for the most part.
I still remember my first day at school very well , the reason being I pooped my knickers on my very first school day and ran all the way up to my brother’s classroom and embarrassed the shit out of him. So much that thereafter , he refused to acknowledge me as his brother in public.
To be honest, in hindsight , I believe my excretory action back in those days was kind of involuntary , because I pooped like a bird – gravitationally , mindlessly and often . More often than not , it always occurred during school hours.
…………….to be continued.
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