Cupid Needs Glasses

Category: Humour. My kind.

In a universe present very much here, there is a small collection of dots. Like as if some kid went whacko riding on a damn motorised pogo stick, and peppered a black sheet of paper with loads of white dots. We know this better as the Milky Way. Go deeper, use that magnifying glass, and if it is of the sufficient magnifying power, you might be able to discern this small white dot amongst all the other millions, like searching for a needle in a haystack of needles. That little dood right there, he/she/it is the Sun. Now that you've zeroed in over here, take a break and count all the other stars.

Once you're break is over, attach a magnifying glass, preferably of the same type as the first one,(it would be great if you got it from the same factory, you may get a discount! If you dont, tough luck!) Look through the looking glass, and you just might see Alice. Even if you dont, try to concentrate on all those spheres rotating crazily around the sun, you should count eight of them. The straddler sitting on the end - yeah Pluto, was going so slow and acting smart, so they decided to stop calling him a planet and called him some wierd asteroid. Talk about demotion.
Amongst the entire set, there's this one blue thingy somewhere in the third ring orbitting that big ball of fire. Yeah, looks nice doesnt it. Sure it does, the planet is always blue-er on the other side! And its grass definitely looks greener!

But it has people.

Yeah, those two-legged-creatures who run about hurriedly trying to act like they've got some life. And who move generally between two places, one their resting facility, the other their home. They even put their young 'uns through fifteen-twentyfive years of rigorous punishment, making them read, so they can grow up to be like them. Look closely, some have weenies, some dont. Yeah, its a way of life for them. Finally the have-weenies go to the have-nots and make juniors who are delivered by short sighted storks(who sometimes deliver in the wrong houses causing loads of drama from which we make stories like "That's Not MY Child", and "I'm not even pregnant". These stories are hushed up by the Stork Coverup committee so you dont get to hear it. Hush this, stork!), who again might have weenies or not. They call it reproduction.

Anyway, if you're wondering how the haves go to the have-nots, its quite simple. There's this one guy/angel-kid/mischievous mongrel who's rolling all around the planet, hitching rides with the storks, and who shoots this primitive arrows. He kinda gets very active around the months of January and February. That's cos, the storks are on migration and have a very skeletal staff. The storks come in full flow somewhere around November, but then again, thats a different story.

Anyway, so this Crazy Kid, called Cupid, has full support from the "Gods" (read, unknown characters who hide in the background and play puppets with the strings of the universe, generally naked cos they like it that way.) and he runs around violently releasing arrows at any person moving in his sight on God's Green Earth. (Yeah, it looked blue before, dont ask me how it became green.) He seems to have been doing a decent job, but of recent his work has slacked.

Yes, that's right people, Cupid is going blind. Now that the Gods have decided to change the ratio of the haves to have-nots to a respectable notch, it is now 1634426:1. Yes, lots of haves, which is more than i can say regarding the rest of the world's economics / statistics / mumbo-jumbo-i-cant-recall.


And this hapless poor kid been working so hard, he's looking for the odd have-not to shoot at, and he's finding very few of them. Since he's working so hard, and doesnt have any support staff, and doesnt entertain Customer Care Calls, he's quite tired/glazy-eyed/frustrated. So he's decided to let everything go. All of a sudden, he's firing at people who are blissfully happy, and then content with the fact that they're feeling a deep sense of loneliness, and infrequent cries of "why-oh-why", and the rare cases of "I am a have-You're a have-let's have!" which might frankly help in reducing the populace.

Recently, he hit me. Dumb freak of a Winged-nut, he wasn't even WATCHING who he hit. Here I am, blissfully happy in the company of my code, spitefully mocking the have-nots, and there he goes "twang!". Didnt take more than a couple of weeks before I am gasping for "companionship" as one of my friends put it. Laughed at him then when he went into some Devdas based talk (moving piece of literature in India, where the guy finally dies cos he cant handle his love for two females, one a dancer, the other a confused brat) and philosohpically mentioned his need for companionship(Ugghh!). Talk about irony.

It's bad enough, when you speak to very few have-nots, when you're looking for that special have-not and give Cupid the sign that "all's ok, go ahead and shoot... aim for me and THAT one there, yes THAT one. I'll give you an extra heart!". It's worse when he shoots the wrong guy. Now all I have is one big pain-in-the-neck and pain-in-the-hiney, cos he shot both arrows at me for DOUBLE pressure. It's not a good sight when you see some guy looking speculatively at all the have-nots in the room, and definitely not when you find out you're just looking at yourself, cos there's a mirror in the way, and you see the wild gleam in your eyes.

"Get over it man, it's just feelings!", you say. Crush the damn thing, Cupid gots a lot of arrows, beg him for a couple more later. Sigh, if only it were so easy. You just cant stop thinking of that one person, and finally, you cry to yourself, why-oh-why did you not hide around when you know that something like this was bound to happen. Advice from the fallen one (me), RUN WHEN YOU HEAR THAT FLAP OF WINGS!! The guy is running blind, hope he hurts himself and puts himself in the hospital till some eye-guy goes and gives him a good over-all, and dresses him up while he's at it, so he doesnt get cold and frustrated so easily.

But 'tis the busy season for him, and he's running blind. "'Tis the season to be jolly", came and went in December, tough luck if you didnt get your packet of jolly then!

One more wounded in battle, one more crawling towards the light. But I still have my determination, and my will to be a good friend. If nothing, it will just be that which gets me across this war-torn battlefield. I know not what I want, and Cupid as sure hell doesnt seem to care about it at the moment, he's got some target to reach. So, I need to draw whatever supprt I can from faith, in the fact that the one I want, will come, in time, and that I'll be there to receive her. Maybe that time Cupid will be all right, and I will be ready for his arrow, hurtful or not.


Damn Cupid, crazy freak!