Tag Archives: politics

The God of Small Thingies, Part II | The Right And The Wrong

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The following text entails a very elusive and much sought-after erotic fable from south Asia. The telling of this fable in a single session is considered to be a very strong, and sometimes even fatal, aphrodisiac in these parts. Owing to its highly addictive nature, it has been known to cause several deaths due to uncontrolled consumption among the very sexy clowns of the monsooned forests of southern India, located in south Asia. Hence, having careful consideration of your safety and welfare, this erotic fable is brought to you in four parts. Read the first part here.

The town of Ayemenem was suffering a calamity of unforeseen proportions. Dicks shriveled and breasts insected infected. The communists had finally decided to come to the rescue. They suggested that a revolution could be of help, and this sentiment caught quite some popularity. Red flags were collected and several envoys to China were sent. Hammer and sickle dances became popular. These dances were elaborate affairs consisting of women sickling small thingies and men hammering their women.

Data painstakingly collected by the Indian Statistical Institute conclusively and undoubtedly proved that such dances had boosted the morale of the Ayemenem citizens and consolidated social solidarity by %. It was further reported that they brought down the suicide rate by π%. Many people thought these findings were quite irrational, but since the masses were very oppressed, they could not say or do much about it.

The government further allotted Rs. 10 crore of funds to rename all existing children Lenin, Mao and Che in that order. Some objection was expressed by the Right-wing parties to such changes, and several FIRs for the crimes of sedition and waging war against the nation were filed. But everything was sorted out when the leading numerologist in Ayemenem (who also happened to be the temple elephant’s third cousin twice removed) confirmed in his expert evidence before the Supreme Court that the renaming was in consonance with the ethics of numerology and could only bring good fortune on Ayemenem. Nevertheless, none of these measures were successful in solving the shriveling of the thingies, which popularly began to be known as monsoon dicks.

Several specimen of the monsoon dicks were taken and stored in museums and displayed in exhibitions for tourists who did not have monsoon dicks. Biologists from all over the world marveled at the rarity of these thingies. A few of them died of compunction at not owning one for their own while looking at them. By the year 1991, monsoon dicks managed to become an exotic product in foreign markets.

Such trade however, was opposed by some very opposite people, who believed that it was nothing short of trafficking. Meanwhile these opposite people also noticed that at the hammer and sickle dances, a confusion of sorts was on the rise, which led to women sickling women and men hammering men, rather than hammering and sickling each other. This, the opposite people, agreed was rather depraved behavior and had to be stopped at all cost. No God, they declared, would be very pleased.

In the many conferences conducted by the opposite people they voiced their dissatisfaction with the communists and the laughing stock the nation was being made by other countries, because of Ayemenem. “Ah, where’s the dignity? Where be the self-respect?” they mourned. Then in a different tone, “But we must take action! If not now, then when? If not us, then who? If not this way, then how?” Determinism for change gave hope to Ayemenemites, who suddenly realized the shame of monsoon dicks and hammering and sickling the wrong parties.

A whole new era of righteousness was thus born. An era beautiful saffronly.

…to be continued.

The God of Small Thingies, Part I | A Very Sad Town

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The following text entails a very elusive and much sought-after erotic fable from south Asia. The telling of this fable in a single session is considered to be a very strong, and sometimes even fatal, aphrodisiac in these parts. Owing to its highly addictive nature, it has been known to cause several deaths due to uncontrolled consumption among the very sexy clowns of the monsooned forests of southern India, located in south Asia. Hence, having careful consideration of your safety and welfare, this erotic fable is brought to you in four parts.

Monsoon came to Ayemenem slow and drowsy, turning skies gray. It expanded the cupboards and shriveled the thingies. This made men sad and women nutty. Some people thought of replacing the thingies with coconuts. But most people disliked coconuts because they were always kinda huge and hard and that can be painful (as had been proven by Priapus 3,000 years ago.)

The temple elephant was seeing the worst of it. Being an elephant, one expects to have a big thingy. But his had shriveled up to the size of a small date. And since elephants do not wear pants, all the lady elephants knew about his tiny thingy and he had to go without a date for several weeks.

At nights, a voyeur walking through Ayemenem could expect to see the women performing a ritual to boost the men’s morales in every house. This ritual consisted of the women struggling with a microscope to locate their husband’s thingies. The ritual, in itself, was quite challenging because microscopes, though very precise and scientific instruments, are quite unwieldy. However it did help to some extent because seeing an enlarged image of a small thingy under a convex glass lens turned the women on, and their moaning gave their husbands a sense of accomplishment of highly engorged proportions. Proportions that their thingies never achieved. Nevertheless, monsoon was a dry season that year in Ayemenem. If you know what I mean.

Meanwhile, the local police superintendent tapped women’s breasts with his baton. Like they were watermelons. “Tap-tap.” But knowing of the tiny predicament of the police superintendent’s thingy, the women’s breasts were sexually deroused and decided to actually turn into watermelons rather than be just a likeness of the same. This was too sad because these watermelons were soon devoured by the numerous insects and larvae which thrive in the romance of the monsoons.

Ayemenem was reduced to a lifeless town of shriveled thingies and half-eaten watermelons. Black watermelon seeds sometimes flew out of the blue around the town from the insects having spat them. It was only insects who did all the seeding that year in Ayemenem. If you know what I mean.

The horridness and humiliation of having a small thingy was devastating. The suicide rate in Ayemenem rose drastically in a matter of days. The markets were flooded with Viagra (which was not helping much) and the little river in Ayemenem with corpses of men who had finally resigned to having a small thingy and women who suffered the humiliation of their men with them.

The government was very concerned about the situation. It felt helpless in the face of such a great calamity as had riddled the town of Ayemenem. It wailed for help frantically here and there. Finally some Enlightened people realised that this great calamity which loomed over Ayemenem like a huge loom from the days of the Industrial Revolution, was nothing but the result of centuries of oppression of the masses. These people decided to come to the rescue of the government by donning red flags, banners and stuff. They called themselves communists.

…to be continued.