Tails of Low I.Q.
Flop Fiction!
Karan Virk
(Sixth Pandav)
“Waaaaaaaaaaah (Wooooooooooow) Taj!” is a common quote said by most tourists while witnessing the beauty of Taj Mahal. There must be something in India that makes it the center of attention. Housing 28 states and 7 Union Territories, India is the most diverse country in the world. Every corner of this vibrant country contains a mixture of its share of architecture, regional culture, and crazy issues resulting in mind fracture. This book contains stories cooked with a ‘Desi – Tadka’, sprinkled with Indian Masala.
I have written many of these stories during my school days and hopefully will be wandering the streets of India in future. My earlier ‘Emotional’ Pichkaris (Holi Water Guns) failed to bring me success, while filmmakers like Anurag Kashyap & Sudhir Mishra easily achieve success by exploring the dark depths of human mind. So, I have turned to ‘Low I.Q.’ and started my journey from a new perspective. My pseudonym is “Sixth Pandav” because I relate to (& share my name) with Karan from mythological epic Mahabharata who was a rebel in true sense.
I would like to thank my family, friends, and mentors for their support. My teachers from Kirpal Sagar Academy, Teja Singh Kandhari School, Modern Senior Secondary School, for their teachings. Personal thanks to the online masterminds who helped me gain a vision by analyzing their visions of Comic Groups, Storywrite Website, Allpoetry Website, Blogger Groups etc.
A very special ‘Thank You’ to Mohit Sharma (Trendster / Trendy Baba) without whom this project would have had never been created. He has provided commendable support by helping and guiding me through every part of this ‘Indie’ experience!
- Ivanpreet Singh Virk (Karan Virk)
*) Facebook
www.facebook.com/KaranVirk
*) Official Blog
karanva.blogspot.com/ *) Database Profiles
Yasni: person.yasni.ca/ivanpreet+singh+virk+1213569
© Karan Virk, All Rights Reserved.
1) Trump Jihad
To bring Jihad to its extreme power, Afghanistan based Jihadi groups started creating several branches to support the terrorist movement. To build a stronger monopoly the Masterminded Jihadists built several small Jihadi Camps in order to gain revenue by bullying Little/Developing Countries. But, there were one or two such groups who had lost their glory and were on a verge of a shutdown. Al – Langura is one such group, having lost their respect between their Jihadi peers. Al – Langura’s desperation to rise again has been met with constant laughs and verbal/physical abuse. Now, the Langurs of Al – Langura have a final chance to earn their prestige. They have been ordered to spread Nonstop Jihad in India to show their skills.
Dr. Fakhu, the current leader of Al – Langura is out of resources, weapons, and terrorists. Equipped with his tactical mind and toxic breath he has established a link between Markho – Markho Khan, Suicide Bombing Expert and CFO of Al – Langura via a S.T.D. booth.
Fakhu – Markho – Markho Khan...Did you earn us a point by destroying your last assignment?
Markho – Markho – Polo – Polo Fakhu Man.......Allah doomed our boat, Fakhu! I successfully created a ‘Cow Bomb’ to be detonated in the Private Army Fields to bring a halt in the uprising of new experimental maize, wheat, and sugarcane. Indian Scientists are conducting experiments on these crops to create some Super Soldiers. Your son Chakhu was deployed to carry out this mission. Well, not only Allah but the Indian Army bombarded our boat...While, Chakhu was shooing the cow to graze in the fields. Suddenly a herd of cows and bulls started approaching the fields under the supervision of some farmers. The racist masochists actually allow farmers entry to their top secret research fields. There should be a law or we should inform the U.N. about the mistreatment of Jihadists in developing countries. Now, Chakhu’s eyes started to twitch, his palms became sweaty, his Testosterone Levels reached sky high..He would have had even started doing Al – Danci – Danci in the fields like a protagonist from a Taliban film....Well, he would have had gotten an encore if he was performing like this in Roman fields with the naked statues....Alas our boat sank, just like how Bollywood tries to sink Hollywood by lovingly plagiarizing them. The cow was mixed in the herd. The proper decision right now would have had been to detonate the Cow Bomb....But, Chakhu had accidently fed the cow the Bomb – Remote instead of the bomb. He was holding the bomb.....His pants probably became a mixture of Yellow – Brown Rainbow Mix. He searched the fields trying to locate the remote in marginal piles full of Methane Gases and Cow Dung. Suddenly, out of nowhere the Indian soldiers apprehended him.
Fakhu – HURRAY! So, did the bastard die?...Ahm!...I mean, did he reach Heaven?
Markho – Markho – No, No...he survived.The Army shaved his Osama Beard...Damn, that beard got us so many victories..I didn’t even get to preserve a hair sample. Currently the Indian Scientists are conducting research on Chakhu. They make him wear a Diaper and use him as a puppet to entertain Army Children, Chakhu is forced to wear Gucci, and Armani Underwears and then simultaneously attacked by several animals. Scientists are probably trying to train the Indian animals in recognizing Foreign Products to fight off International Films, Pop stars, Cultural Trends, etc…How are our warriors growing over there?
Fakhu – Markho, our group has evaporated. Tote, the landmine developer exploded while getting stuck inside the Landmine Field. His intestines added a spicy flavor to my noodles. Ack, I steel feel the toxic aftertaste. Our computer experts got beheaded when the other Jihadi camps pranked Egyptian Jihadi General by mailing him his Egyptian Bathroom Rituals. Even, now these bastards are spitting monkey eyeballs and throwing paper airplanes at me. You know what is written on these planes, ‘MY BEARD IS MADE OUT OF COTTON CANDY’....I will get you...You Jihadi Punks...I will kidnap your mothers and insert my bazooka in her Al – Pussy Cat!...Bloody George Bush Lovers. Listen carefully I am parceling our last three terrorists to India. Now go out there and die...I mean, wreck everything and show everyone that males are superior suicide bombers than females.
After 5 days the three langurs were standing in front of Markho – Markho Khan.
Markho – Markho – Stand Up...Hands Down...Ear Up. I am going to attach Bye – Bye Kitty Bombs to your chests. You will be provided with remote controls... This bomb will make a Meow – Meow sound before it blasts. Make sure you scream and tell everyone you are a terrorist and nobody confuses you for a Cat Rapist.
Markho – Markho Khan assigned the three Languri – Jihadists with codenames. Hum Saath Saath Hain was chosen to be the teams name with each Jihadist getting assigned part of the name.
Saath 1 – Sir, there are only three of us here. Who is ‘Hain’?
Markho – Markho – These transmitters are Hain!
Hum, Saath 1, and Saath 2 took the transmitters and started fitting them in their ear wax filled canals.
Markho – Markho – And if under any circumstances Delhi Police catches you and makes you the victims of their Interrogation I am going to give you a cyanide pill.
Hum – Thank Allah. The plastic from airplane food has wrapped onto my intestines creating ulcer.
Hum snatched the cyanide pill and swallowed it. Suddenly, Hum started moving his body like Boy Bands trying to camouflage their hormones in front of Teen Girls. After three minutes Hum had hit the floor.
Markho – Markho – Looks like there won’t be a Hum anymore! Hmm. Saath 1 you are going to blow up the rock concert of She Shu Khan. Dance like a Bollywood Junior Artist from 5th row behind the Hero and explode into pieces...He he...Adding insult to injury! Saath 2 you board a bus
carrying Hindu Devotees to Shimla and blast it in the middle of the journey.
Saath 1 – Are these bombs manual?
Markho – Markho – No, they are voice activated bombs. When, I yell the code through the transmitter the kitty will lose one of its lives. And the code is, ‘Walley Shah Al Navabi Hasani – Hasani’.
Saath – Saath maniacally started jumping and rolling on the ground. Their sentences started mixing together.
Saath – Saath – AAAAAAAHHHHH..........Help.....Call the Fire Brigade....Dial 911...Err...101....I am still a bachelor....My mommy thinks I am a Rocket Scientist....Somebody connect my body parts....Feed me a goat!
Markho – Markho – The bombs are off. Save this energy my Scapegoatssss....Ahm...Afghani Goatees go and just dew it...Group Hug...Arms In...And....ALLAH BOL!
Saath 1 reached the concert but his transmitter started picking up local radio station’s frequencies.
Saath 1 – Markho, I am approaching the stage like James Bond. What should I do now?
Transmitter – Stop sucking and start dancing because 121.7 fever is going to rock you all night.
Saath 1 – This wasn’t in the manual. Markho, do you seriously want me to dance?
Transmitter – Don’t just stand there citizen...Move your hips, break your legs and surf the crow like a break-dancer.
Markho – Markho – Walley Shah Al Nawabi Hasni – Hasni! Did it work? Why didn’t I hear a Boom – Boom sound?
Thanks to the frequency problem Saath 1 was break dancing, pulling a move after another. Markho started to get a feeling that something was going wrong.
Markho – Markho – WALLEY SHAH AL NAWABI HASNI – HASNI......What The Bombay?
Markho’s transmitter started picking up all kind of frequencies.
Transmitter – Staying Alive is the agenda supported by every N.G.O. Group. We believe that people should start adopting insects to revolutionize society. The pets are part of this planet. Roaming the Earth from millions of years they deserve love like getting their antennas licked.....
Markho – Markho – Huh...Somebody, please hit a plane in these Radio Towers. Saath 2, where are you?
The transmitters again started to malfunction.
Transmitter – Saath 2, Scooby Dooby Doo!
Saath 2 – Aaaaa...Where?...Is the Mystery Machine behind my bus? How did they know about our plan?
Markho – Markho – Saath 2! Hold your position. I am standing on top of the toilet. Can you hear me, Roger?...Roger me back.
Saath 2 – Yes, Roger I hear you clearly. The bus is on its way and the Devotees are providing free entertainment by singing and jumping on their seats. During the devotional songs, one guy always takes position of a lead singer waving his hands in air like a Traffic Policeman with the rest of the passengers providing chorus.
Suddenly, the bus stopped.
“Look, everyone it’s a Jagrata of Lord Shiva Ji. Let’s join them. Everybody Bam Bam Bhole!”
Saath 2 – Roger. They are all screaming Bomb – Bomb.
Markho – Markho – Oh Hell. Let me just activate the bomb right now.
The devotees joined the Jagrata filling the environment with their chants.
Saath 2 – Markho, the bus is empty. The birds have flown away.
Markho got off the toilet and the transmitter problem came back.
Transmitter – SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY.....I AM UNDER ATTACK....I REPEAT.....THEY ARE TEARING THROUGH MY FLESH......NOT THE FUNNY BONE....OVER & OUTTTTTTTT!
Markho – Markho – Shit...Roger, Saath 2...I am going to get you out of this. WALLEY SHAH AL NAWABI HASNI – HASNI....I repeat in a Hyderabadi accent....WALLEY SHAH AL NAWABI HASNI – HASNI.
“Bam – Bam Bhole.”
Transmitter – We are glad to inform you that your stay has come to an end. We hope that you had an enjoyable experience. Sadly, it’s your expiry time. Tata. WALLEY SHAH AL NAWABI HASNI – HASNI!
“Bam Shiva Bam.”
Saath 2 started running inside the bus.
“O Shiva Ji, Let’s Pump Up This Bam.”
Saath 2 – No, I don’t want to die. I promise I will drink milk and be a good boy.
“Meow – Meow!”
The bomb exploded filling the atmosphere with smoke. The burning bus was being watched by the devotees.
“Mighty Wonder! Lord Shiva has step foot on Earth. Everybody this bus is holy now. Grab your part.”
“I am going to wash my face with the petrol tank.”
“The seats are going to become a sensation in my living room.”
“O, Lord Shiva you are the sole protector of our souls!”
The End!
Karan’s Notes
*) Lord Shiva - Shiva is the god of the yogis, self-controlled and celibate, while at the same time a lover of his spouse (shakti). Lord Shiva is the destroyer of the world, following Brahma the creator and Vishnu the preserver, after which Brahma again creates the world and so on. Shiva is responsible for change both in the form of death and destruction and in the positive sense of destroying the ego, the false identification with the form. This also includes the shedding of old habits and attachments.
*) Jagrata - The concept of ‘ Jagran ' or ‘Jagrata' is a common practice in the Hindu Faith and is frequently misconstrued by others. The word Jagran , derived from the Sanskrit word ‘ jaagar ', meaning awake or a state of alertness, refers to this period of nocturnal wakefulness. Many Hindu fasts or ‘vrats' such as that of Satyanarayan and Ekadashi advocate the practice of Jagran , or all night vigil, during which the Almighty is venerated through various acts of worship. The logistics of fasting have been discussed in an earlier article.
However, what drives the devout to forfeit a night's sleep and remain awake? To comprehend this we must analyse a central belief of Sanatan Dharma. Quoting Shri Krishna from the Bhagavad-Gita, ‘yagyo daanam tapashchaiva paavanaani maneeshinaam ' , describes the main methods of atonement for humans. Yagya alludes to sacrificing something to the Supreme Being, which is dear to us. Sleep, just like eating, is for the most part an agreeable experience. The impulse to sleep, in the Hindu context is described as ‘ Nidraa ', which in itself is a manifestation of a base female aspect of the Almighty, ‘ Yogamaya ' . This particular form of the female energy, orNidraa , induces sleep in living beings and is most prevalent at night.
The practice of ‘ Bhagvati Jagran' or Jagrata by the devotees of the Mother Goddess, Shakti, is widely observed. The reason for this is the aforementioned association of sleep as a manifestation of Yogamaya .
Jagrata is performed all through the night to thank the GOD for his blessings and all the love he has bestowed upon us. It is believed that one who approaches the GOD with a pure heart never returns empty handed.
*) – S.T.D. Booth – Telephone Booth which offers ISD - International Subscriber Dialing (International), PCO - Public Call Office (Local Calls within a City), STD - Standard Trunk Dialling (From one Indian State/Province to another).
2) The ‘Real’ Superman
"Where does your life start?"
Monday
6:00 P.M.
The roads are busy as always..Old Man Vimmi's, Ice Cream Parlor is starting to get it's late evening customers. Even though I am standing far away from the road, I can see the flying dust particles everywhere. The cars, rickshaws, autos, and cycles' noises fall into the ears like bullets..This is India baby! The pollution covered sunset is a sight to kill and die for. Alright, finished with my cigarette. I drop the finished, unlit piece on the floor, squish it with my foot and say, 'Hasta La Vista Baby!' There are many things on the roads, the pavement, and even under my feet...It won't create a difference. Never has..Never will. My eyes close for a minute...God Help Me...There has been an accident in front of my eyes…..The driver covered in blood is crawling out of the car...No sign of movement from the second car. What do I do? Should I go out there and help the passengers. But, other people are also staring. Nobody is moving one inch. It would no
t create a difference even if I get involved...Besides, God forgives one sin...Let this be it.
Tuesday
9:30 A.M.
My head is still roaming around yesterday's incident. Depositing some money into my bank account might give me some relief. It is crowdy as usual. Long lines are forming around different windows. So, hot in here. Did someone steal your, A.C. or something? It feels good, when you are actually not saying something, just thinking it in your head. Try that, it actually feels good! Feels like you are in, front of a Police Officer, kick him, poke him, he wouldn't mind. Take all your anger off on the Police. Mumbai for me, and I don't know about you. Who am I talking to anyway? All this heat is travelling into my head.
“Put your hands up! This is a robbery. Everybody on the floor.”
What the heck? Everybody is starting to put their hands in the air, and lying on the floor. I should do the same thing....Something is touching my head. I am starting to hear a loud voice over my head.
“I don't want any cleverness, or this man's brain will be blown out of his head.”
I am a hostage. This man seems serious. He can blow my brain out of my head. I can hear my heart beat. It is very fast. I should try to do something…..No, I should stay perfectly still. Why does not anyone do something? He is making me move. All I can see is the people lying on the floor. He is taking me away. What if he takes me outside the bank and shoots me? One bullet and my body will be lying on the road. The gun is still on my head! I can feel the sweatiness all over my head. My head is feeling light suddenly. I gather my courage and turn around....The robbers are gone. Thank you, God.
12:00 P.M.
Midnight
Should I call myself lucky? Or, was it just a coincidence? He could have had shot me right away. The man had probably seen a lot of blood. Mine was not different. If he had shot me..Who would have had took me to my grave? I don't know a single person in my area. If my story gets a full stop, no editor is going to publish it...I know no one. I need a glass of Bacardi, on the rocks. I am done making my drink. Take a sip. Feels nice, strong. Most people say, ‘Life is a magical rainbow, the colors of joy shine out like a box of markers.’ Bullshit! Crime, Corruption, Rape, Robbery, Kidnapping. I find this in every corner of this country. Find it at every turn. Nobody takes responsibility to clean it. Nobody gives a damn about others. I didn't. I was wrong. This is going to be changed. I will change it.