The origins of this story are rather strange. It all started when I decided to write down some of my observations about male sexuality in the form of a story. I had been looking for a suitable plot for a long time. Several were concocted but none appealed so the story never materialized. Second, I wanted to write a love story. A mushy and tragic one which portrayed how emotions make life so painful for no reason at all. This is what this story was till yesterday evening. I had already written about two thousand words of a crappy love tragedy when my beloved friends dragged (literally) me out to dinner in the city.
It was in that frustrated mood when I was struck by these strange visions. And that is when the story changed its form completely. A couple of visions (particularly the one in which the narrator becomes a ray of light in the girl's diamond ring) were so strong that I decided to mold the entire story in that form.
I would have called this story psychedelic, had I been able to write it down exactly as I had percieved it. But if I was that good a writer, I wouldn't be rotting in a stupid engineering college. Anyhow, I guess, the style is something that I have never tried before and although I was very happy with the first draft, subsequent revisions showed that it was not quite what I had wanted it to be. The overall effort is to create a surreal atmosphere. It is for you people to say how far I've succeeded.
There is of course, a hint of some of my observations on male sexuality. But more than that, the story is about emotions. I'm afraid it only raises questions and does not give any answers. What are emotions? What is the positions of man's emotions in this universe? Is there a great plan, if any, and are emotions the 'gears and wheels' of that great plan? Is is better not to have any emotions? Indeed, I often desire to be emotions less. And in extrapolations -- what would I be if I were emotionless?
Thanks to Rakshit and Ankit for literally (I mean physically. These guys were almost about to throw me down the third floor!) dragging me to city against my wishes. Without your great efforts at weight lifting with my body I would never have struck with the psychedelic angle. Thanks to Swetank Gupta for keeping me engaged in a totally meaningless (okay, not so meaningless) conversation while I was drunk last night. Had you not done it, I was planning to write this one while drunk and it would have been a total disaster. Thanks to Microsoft for making a delightful software called MS word. I have recently installed Office 2007 and I can't begin to tell you how exciting it is to write my first story on it. And finally thanks to everyone-knows-who for being the beautiful inspiration behind the story.
A clarification. The green pill in the story is (by authorial intention) the pill to purge emotions. It is not dope.
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