Message to the Lilliputians
This writer has a superiority complex. Its origins are numerous and varied, and could of course be explained completely in terms of “awesomeness”, but she has decided to take a different approach, and beat around the bush a bit in order to spare your feelings.
She examines herself, and realises that the primary cause is, no doubt, the height of her head in comparison to the rest of the world. From up here, you little people with your petty quarrels seem extraordinarily insignificant to her. In your dirty streets you walk, crying about your break-ups and your stolen cake, and she watches from a foot above, occasionally letting out a patronising chuckle. It is unlikely that you hear her from down there, but just in case, she asks that you do not take it too much to heart, for she is not condescending, only amused by your little lives.
Most nights she climbs up to the rooftop and waits amongst the stars for acknowledgement from the diminutive masses. She has read about the Titans and the Greek gods on their Mount Olympus, and she now awaits her due: whole cows burnt up and the smoke wafted to her high abode, festivals in her honour. She will also settle for chocolate, she thinks, if offered in large amounts.
This writer remembers her arrival on earth. She came, of course, in full size - it would be blasphemous even to imagine her as small (she shudders at the very word). Her first step had the ground trembling (she is great, NOT fat), and the tiny men and women of the world first tried to strap her down and fire arrows into her precious skin. They had no hope against her divine strength. She broke free, and stood tall, and they shaded their eyes to look at her, for her head was level with the sun. And then, of course, they bowed, she put on her sunglasses, and the Registrar wrote the birth certificate.
This writer remembers this all very vividly, and refuses to take a look at the evidence her parents have fabricated to prove that once, aeons ago, she was level with the rest of the world. Photographs, pfft. Individuals can only be born great, they cannot achieve greatness or have it thrust upon them.
This writer grants that she is conceited, but must ask her audience to consider her situation. Were any of you mini ladies and gentlemen to be on the receiving end of such envy as she is, you would most certainly construct as grand a golden throne for yourselves. She will humour you and describe it.
She is fortunate enough to live in a country where dinosaurs never walked, and so left not a speck of their DNA in the modern humans. It is a place where her size can be properly appreciated, for few men make it up to her middle (she will not speak of the women, because she finds it very difficult to observe them, as they are mostly the height of her little finger). As a result of this fortune, however, she cannot turn a corner or walk into a room without eliciting frighteningly jealous stares. The little people try to burn her down with their eyes. They wish to save their dignity. Also, she must put up with much disbelief caused whenever she states her true age. She admits that it is rather a pleasant thing to have to tolerate, but she realises that it rather inflates her ego, and her big head is beginning to affect her balance.
This writer is the cause of much worry to her father.
“Who can I get her married to?” he asks, and she considers pointing out her mother's height in relation to his (he is only a quarter of an inch shorter, he insists), but this writer is very kind, as you have surely gleaned from this article, and feels deeply for her Lilliputian subjects. She has learnt not to harp on about her height, and its connected superiority.
By Safieh Kabir
Annoying Ways to Annoy your Annoying Neighbours Who Constantly Annoy You in Constantly Annoying Ways
Everyone detests their neighbours on some level. Even the most rational of people will not be able to provide a reason for this neighbourly hate (one that doesn't sound irrational). Be it the bright, yellow coloured, cheap-as-chips car next door, the hairy fur ball of a cat that makes you sneeze all the time, or the loud overbearing, “Sheila Ki Jawani,” or, “Munni Bodnam Hui,” songs blaring from their speakers, you have to admit, all or at least some of your neighbours ARE pretty annoying. What do you do about it? Annoy them back.
Pretend to be raised in foreigner-land: Works only if you're going to, or recently have, moved to a new place. Avoid interacting with anyone else before you pick your target. The trick is to take advantage of any small window of opportunity. For example: Your idiot neighbour (preferably roughly your age) comes to your door for the first time, asking for some salt. Pretend you were raised in a madrasa in Sudan and you don't know either Bangla or English. Give blank looks and say incoherent stuff like, “Rama schama dooly,” or, “Habibi jabibi bhabi,” and ignore any deft sign languages used by the neighbour. Give him (not a “her”-we'll get to the “her” treatment later on) sugar or bleach instead of salt if you can't think of anything else.
Spy on thy Neighbour: … and then use any pattern that emerges to your advantage. Consider yourself bekaar enough to be capable of disrupting someone's morning routine. Pay off the guy controlling the water pump supply to your building to cut off the water supply for half an hour on a weekday. Sit back and enjoy the chaos as the kids and their parents are delayed. If you're really desperate and a bit daring, splash dirty water all over the place from a balcony, your room' window, or any other suitable vantage point, making sure their clothes are ruined.
Noise is your friend: Can't stand the noise they make? It goes both ways. It's simple: make as much noise as possible at the quietest time of the 24 hours allotted to each day: night. Test that new surround sound speaker system in the dead of night, with something heavy: Lamb of God or Cradle of Filth would do nicely. Make sure your parents are out though, or else you might have to beg for a bed behind enemy lines. Another less effective but equally satisfying option would be asking your “friend” to bring his “modified” Mitsubishi Lancer over. Make sure he has a loud exhaust (appropriately called a howler) installed. Then, right around 2 am, hit the throttle as hard as you can and listen to the sound building with the revs. Pure bliss.
Sing: You should have the lyrics of “Sheila Ki Jawani” memorised by now after the incessant playing of the song next door. Whenever you pass by their door, yell out, “Sheila!” If you happen to come into contact with any female neighbours, asking for salt or not, constantly hum the song under your breath. If you have access to an electric guitar and a decent sized amp, let them loose. Turn your entire building into a hellhole of sound. For added bonuses, ask someone to teach you to make helicopter noises with your lead guitar. Buy a fake police siren for added effect.
These are just the bare basic ways to annoy your neighbour. If you want the more sophisticated stuff, play the Neighbour from Hell series of games. Be creative, be annoying. Getting thrown out is the limit people.
By Shaer Banglalion the Tiger Reaz
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