And the game plays you

This blog post is an unfortunate, but necessary addition to the shite piled here. Well, since it is necessary , we might as well get over with it quickly.

By the way,I just noticed that starting a post with "This blog post" gives the reader an uneasy feeling , as if the next words are half expected to be " is my last, so goodbye to Moo (my dear pet cow) (sniff)" , or something along the lines of "is my last, for I have found Light in Auroville ". Well, the masochistic reader neednt be scared. I have every intention of continuing with my gentle bombardments.

Anyway, this blog post has nothing to do with Shallow incoherent wordplays. Ahem . Did anyone dare to suggest that? It doesnt even have anything to do with the shallowness (and the depth thereof ) of our everyday lives and our day to day existence. I can imagine you getting to the very edges of your seats at this very moment. In fact, I am not at all writing about shallownewss, so you can get back into your seats .

No. Rather, I talk of that mythical creature, legendary in the circle of her clandestine devotees and yet unknown behind that thick veil of foundation and mascara, The greatest player of the greatest game mankind has ever played, A game that is so vast and complex that even realizing that you never play the game, rather it is the game that plays you can be called a revelation. The creature I talk of, is called as "Target" for reasons unknown (and not to be circulated for public connaissance (in the event of non- existence of nefarious designs) by individuals who have this information)

Do not get me wrong. No one has ever mastered the game. Philosophers have tried to comprehend the game since time immemorial , and have failed. Whatever it is all about, it is beyond the Human race to comprehend it. Target is no different than the rest of us in the sense that she also has scaled a fraction of an infinite peak. But, well, when placed on the same peak, it is easy to see that she is way higher up .

So it started like this. The game might have noticed that I cheat. So it sent along Target, for, remember, the game plays us. After the customary courtesies, I started playing my own little game, and thought I was a genius. Little did I know that I was a piece on a board. I started ignoring her. Generally works. But she did a somersault that firmly put me back into my place. She applied my own medicine to me, only, she was a lot better at playing the game that I imagined was my own invention and copyrighted belonging. Now they say that if a guy ignores a girl, the guy becomes ten times more appealing, but if it happens the other way round, well, if it happens the other way round, 90% of such cases culminate in a mental institution. Guys are a lot weaker in constitution you see.

So I started getting crazier by the day, and started acting as if I were in a trance. I gave motorized vehicles a shot, ( I mean tried driving them ), but they were not much fun. Vodka didnt relieve me either, and I dont think Pot will either. I tried washing my clothes this evening, That gave me some temporary relief, but its still there, clinging to me like a lobster clings to , whatever, you get the point.

And all this while, she has just been smirking. I am sure The game has cooked up a nice little concoction for her too, For even the greates are not immune, and the greater the player, the greater the need for that player to be humbled. Thats the irony. You think you are immune until it hits you like a rocket in your stomach.As long as you think you are playing the game, The game is happy. But as soon as you are aware of the game's existence, but you are naive enough to believe that you are playing with the game , then the game gets angry.

And then, you feel what its really like to be played