Chit-Chat

What if Hamlet and Banquo ever planned a murder together? Yes, Hamlet of 'To be or not to be' fame; and Banquo of the long monologues.

Banquo: Hey, let's kill him.

Hamlet: You think we ought to?

Banquo: I suppose not. But I want to.

Hamlet: So do I.

Banquo: You think we ought to?

Hamlet: No. But it seems we both want to.

Banquo: And we can.

Hamlet: Can we?

Banquo: Can't we?

Hamlet: Of course! Unless...

Banquo: Yes, exactly.

Hamlet: Exactly what?

Banquo: There's always the unless.

Hamlet: Oh that. There's also always the issue of more-less. What we'll do is wrong, but is it more wrong and less right, or more right and less wrong?

Banquo: I thought I was master of rhetoric. Ok, how about this? What we'll do is right, because rightness is in the eye of the beholder, because life is never simple and has shades of grey; and I know all this because my mother gave me a big fat book of idioms when I was a kid, but that doesn't mean I'm a mama's boy because the obvious isn't always true.

At this point, Lady Macbeth interjects: Or how about you're both a couple of PANSAYYS?

Hamlet: That's not true. SOMETIMES, we like to move it move it!

Lady Macbeth: But those are rare moments, aren't they? Ah well. How do I care? As long as my darling Macbeth gets the crown.

Banquo and Hamlet: WHAT?

Lady Macbeth: Don't you know? The witches predicted it.

Banquo and Hamlet: But then what about us?

Lady Macbeth: Obviously, you're in the wrong play. You guys just wasted too much time. Hung around loooong after you were supposed to leave.

Banquo and Hamlet look at each other and gape.

Thus, ends a tragedy.

P.S- This was on a random impulse. I still think Shakespeare is boss.

To Neutralise any Emoness I might have indulged in

Have you ever stared at the sweeping lines of your own body, felt the smoothness of your own skin, and thought- 'Wow, I'm beautiful!' ? It's not the kind of beauty one thinks of in context to lust or envy. It's the kind that all human beings are capable of realising- the beauty of living flesh and blood, of form, proportion and harmony. You know you have it when you’re happy just to be alive. Then, your clumsiest step is a challenge to gravity. You don’t sweat, but give off entrancingly musky odours. And each time you blink, you paint the world with fresh colours.

I wrote this last morning. Why can't I feel like this everyday? :(

Why mothers are mothers.

Ma: Achha, I've been hearing things and I'm worried about what's in the facebook.

Me: It's not 'in the facebook.'

Ma: 'On the facebook' then.

Me: OOF Ma, it's not about 'in' or 'on', it about the 'the'. The 'the' is redundant.

Like one doesn't say- 'he is a gay.' It's just 'he is gay'. Forget about the article, forget it ever existed!

Ma: Ok. But social networking is creepy.

(In the end, they always hit the nail on the head. But oh, the painful process towards the end.)