Obsolution

They were the nicest, most popular things known to mankind, but they were now obsolete. The only memories they left behind were those that pertained to a vague feeling of comfort and the slight cravings for hot cocoa on a rainy day. Left to fend for themselves, they retired a long time ago to the safety of their log cabins in the mountains, condemned forever to an existence that went on and on, and only reminded them of their glamourous heydays and their once top-dog position.

"It was different back then," our source says, on condition of anonymity "Money was no object as long as men, women and children were happy and at ease. Now, these newfangled stilettos and whatnot make them rethink the wisdom of investing in something this long lasting."

'Tis a pity, but 'tis true.

In the crowds of skinny jeans and mini skirts, hotpants and whatever else that shows off curves to the best advantage, where is the place for someone sporting ye good olde scruffy, bulky albeit comfy-as-hell jeans?

She fades into the background regardless of who she's with, because, undeniably, them that wear all those other things are hotter than she can hope to be.

They bring up desires that have lain dormant. They make you want to flirt, to talk to people more easily, be the stud that that dude is.

She doesn't even bother to fight it. It's called resignation, she's an old hand.

The oldbluejeans community in the mountains open their arms to her. She and others like her, and them oldies will continue to live a seemingly endless life hidden away from the cut-throat world outside.

Mobilization

Underground, the armies assembled.

The had already split up into their battalions and were positioned according to the instinctively formed battle plans of the higher command.

Above them, huge trees twisted and contorted and tossed their heads in strange ways. The rumbling had already begun in the distance..

This couldn't have been more perfectly arranged if it had been staged in front of a green screen.

The perfect setting, timing... It was coming.

The humans were exulting in their accurate predictions, little knowing that they'd known about this day forever, underground..

They'd been training for the day that they would finally survive the human race. And then the centuries, the millennia of being crushed and swatted and trampled and sprayed at would all be made up for. Their antennae twitched in excited anticipation, their exoskeletons gleamed.

It was coming.

Brace Yourself.

"Terrible things happen here when the sun goes down."

The old man started giggling, silently shaking with mirth. "Ahh you socially challenged creature-of-God, little you know about this place.."

The squirrel squeaked in protest. "What d'you mean, you old dingbat? Quit laughing at me!"

The old man was sitting on the ground, leaning against a large rock that was probably once a milestone, and almost crying with laughter. His constant companion sighed and decided to wait. Not like he had a choice... Eventually, the old man stopped his creepy, silent tryst with merriment. He patted the squirrel on the back and sniffed loudly. "You really think that the morning light brings with it safety, peace and joy?"

Wilbur, the squirrel scratched at an itch on his head and shrugged as only a squirrel can. " 'Swhatisaid, senile old coot."

The old man sighed and rubbed Wilbur's head with the side of his hand. "Come.."

They strolled along the empty streets, Wilbur on the old man's head, looking like the oddest pair.

The old man stopped in front of a respectable-looking office building. Wilbur looked around in confusion. "You need a map, old man? Or did you forget we were talking about freaky things happening here?"

The old man smiled. "Patience, little one"

He glanced at his watch and looked around at sky-level. "There... Can you see that open window? There's an hour yet before dark.. Go."

Wilbur squeaked in annoyance and leaped off the old man's head and ran up the building, muttering to himself. "He picks now to decide to empower me. After all this effort.. Huh."

He reached the window the old man had picked out, and sneaked in.

The old man was waiting under the window like a faithful chauffeur. So, when a furry streak of lightning shot out of the window, and nearly plummeted to the ground, the old man deftly caught it and soothed the shaking, speechless Wilbur.

That night, after a soothing meal, when Wilbur was curled up in the old man's shirt pocket, still in shock, the old man took out a card and looked at it quietly, his teeth throbbing in protest. The moon shone on the plastic paint of the words: 'Dr. Twitch, Dentist. Working hours: Sunrise to sunset.'

Indulgence

She walked into the room, and he felt it. He looked up, and miracle of miracles, he spotted her over the heads of all those people who towered feet above her head.

He smiled. She looked tired. But she was smiling. She’d not be smiling if she wasn’t feeling good about the test she’d just given.

‘I should wait. I should study.’ He chanted, over and over again to himself. But he couldn’t stay put. He felt himself float through the crowd and head over to where she stood. “Hello.”

The smile and the look on her face was enough to make it worth it.

She looked at him and felt the pain in her arm fade away. Her head had been heavy since she woke up, but now, she felt better. Her eyes didn’t hurt anymore, her feet didn’t feel leaden. It was as if the painkillers of the world were forming a cloak around her. She knew it wasn’t medication, though. It was all because of him. The feel of his hand on her back was her personal Patronus. Being with him made her so happy.

Being without him, Hellish as it was, caused a little insane flame of joy to begin fluttering somewhere inside her. She missed him like crazy, but at least she could miss him. That little touch of his hand, the arm around her shoulder, it was enough to make all the worries disappear, like a personalized ‘Hakuna Matata’.

She’d seen him see her as she entered, and she’d mentally started the tick-tock, the internal stopwatch that began the now, automatic countdown of time she had left with him. She’d calculated on maybe a minute alone with him, had counted on another week without being able to hold him.

Apparently, the want could do crazy things to a person. There were so many niches they’d made their own, so many memories, now, to haunt her when he wasn’t around.

She was on her way home now. She had been revived, sustained for another bout by the lingering feeling of his breath on her neck, his hand on her waist.

She missed him already. But she knew he missed her too.

But the paranoia, God, the paranoia never let her forget that he was so much more than she deserved. He was brilliant, and an amazing person and he cared about her..

It was too good to be true.

And she was petrified of the day the dream would end..

The Drug - Part II

If one assumes that the hypothesis that ‘something changed’ stands true, the next step would be to find out exactly what it was that was not the same as before.

Nothing about the subject or her surroundings was changed from the year before. What possible reason was there for her to suddenly be "in a better place"?

These karmic, mystical explanations for life don't hold much water. There's always a factual explanation.

So, in an effort to get to the bottom of things, we decided to stalk our subject. And I noticed one particular difference from the many years before. But that made even lesser sense than when we were uninformed.

There was, apparently, someone who she was interested in. Who seemed, inexplicably, interested in her. We figured he was under a spell, and in my mind, I'd already begun searching for titles for a paper on love potions and voodoo. What other possible reason could he have for spending the inordinate amounts of time with her that he did?

Believe me, this was the subject of my investigation for a long time. NOT the most captivating company, that girl. But after looking at the two of them together, we were forced to accept that there were no such elements.

This was more baffling than anything yet. So this boy, good looking, well-read, intelligent, well liked, he was interested in THIS specimen of humanity??

He was under no compulsion to display interest. So he was in this out of choice.

It made no sense.

Then we met this creature who used the same old line on me: "I've been watching you"

From someone barely a foot high, it missed its mark of menace rather entirely. But I humoured her and asked her why she'd been watching me.

She offered to explain if not why he was interested in her, why she was "In a better place". It was an offer I couldn't refuse. Sources are always welcome in my line of work.

The creature began to talk...

"Right, so this dimwit girl, right? She's the last person I'd expect him to fall for, so don't ask me why and all. I'm disappointed. He's adorable and so thoughtful; he's like the perfect boy. But anyway, they expressed interest in each other a few months ago and, well, it seems to be sticking."

I wondered if it were right to assume that, but the creature pointed to the wooden plank she was sitting on, and told us that she was guarding against her jinxing it.

"Yeah, it's this human custom. Seems to work. Anyway, so these two. Her, actually. She's petrified that he's too good for her. She might be right. I'm not saying anything. Point being, I've never seen her so happy. She doesn't crib about getting out of bed at insanely early hours of the day; she's in better moods than ever before. She's never been so eager to improve herself than lately, and she seems to really care about this boy. If all she says is true, she feels safe when she's with him. He makes her feel like the bad is worth it, coz the good should come soon, and it might involve him. He balances her crazy (God knows how he stands that crazy) with his calm. She might know it already, but he makes her see the common sense she tends to ignore."

I made some observations as to how this boy seems to be giving more than he's getting and how that' hardly seems fair. She agreed. "Yeah, it's true. He's really tamed her. No tantrums, no whining, no crazed, angsty decisions to regret later. She's more patient than I've ever seen her before. I feel bad for the boy."

By this time, we had finished our beverages, and we had decided to give up this case as a lost cause. My first. I didn't like how that felt. But I really couldn't reach a conclusion beyond "She's been affected by this boy, who works like magic, or a miracle drug. He makes it all better."

And that, I cannot accept. My mind won't wrap around it too well.

While departing, I asked the creature who she really was and her reply astounded me further.

"Her fairy godmother. God knows, she needed one. I found him for her."

And away she flitted.

Humans and their support structures are strange.

Part I - Guardian Angel

I mentally tick off my list of things to do for the next day.

Oh man... I'm forgetting something... I know I am.

Wait.

I pull out my awesome diary from my bag. I love my bag, but it's going to be so heavy tomorrow when I have to put it on my back. And it's raining. I know I have my beautiful umbrella, but the rain's so bugging, man. Everything gets wet! Can't have that, I have to carry my laptop!! It's pretty.. I don't want it to die!

Anyway. So there's the pol lecture early in the morning. Should be easy to get through, it wasn't one I needed to pay much attention in. It was going to be our weekly gossip session, anyway, since the staircases tended to be rather crowded these days what with all those boxes and all that equipment travelling up and down.

I couldn't wait to hear the child's next ridiculous, love-lorn, amusing tale. She was such fun, so much entertainment, her life. Or this part, anyway.

And yeah, I needed to buy more stationary. And then make those calls that nobody else seems to be making.

Oh yeah, and then, in break, head to *insert name of department here* and deal with them, and then at 11am, head to *insert random meeting here* and find out what they want.

FC.. God, those people.. How could they function being so bubble-protected?! Dexter couldn't do it, and they think they can!

Oooh! Cartoon Network stuff.. Such classics. Nahi toh, now..

Waitaminute. Where's my pencil? Aaaargh!!! Sikandar stole my pencil! And I'm sure he's lost it. It was my NICE pencil. I miss it..

Must take *insert item of use* for *insert any name you please* so that they live happier lives. Must call *insert name of person* and see if s/he is alright, s/he didn't seem okay earlier, I hope it was nothing and all's good.

Also need to know everything rationally, be able to discuss rationally, and still not be a piss off like CERTAIN people.

Must be nice to the world.

Must make people realise the error of their ways, how to be better people, how to make the world a better place.

Must make *insert name, along with something you don't do, but should do to ensure better quality of life*

*Godly voice of blogger*

You're a dream-come-true. Watch out, phone bill, it's going to die next year with all the constant texting and replying that happens.

Much love.

Her and It?

She'd lost it all.

She sat in front of a blank screen, fingers poised over the keyboard, and nothing. She couldn't remember anything, she couldn't think.

Vocabulary flew out of memory, or into very deep recesses. She looked around, nothing.

All she could hear were stifled whispers as she roamed the deserted streets of her mind, looking desperately for someone to come help.

She looked into open doorways that looked like they mocked her by the emptiness within. She hopefully peeped under rocks, maybe she'd get someone with little creative hiding options. Anything would do at this point, she really needed to get this work done!

Suddenly, arms came out of nowhere, making her freeze in place. Oh. Damn. This wouldn't help, but Oh, God, how good it was.

She decided that since the search for coherence was futile anyway, why look a gift horse in the mouth? Bliss awaits.

She smiled at the screen and thought back.

He was an amazing person, he knew just what to say and do to make her feel instantly better, but he wasn't perfect, which was brilliant. She'd have been too afraid of his being way out of her league than he already was.

She was rediscovering her die-hard romantic side. And she wasn't minding much.