Keyboard Scrabble

Shrieking rotating chairs, shouting assholes, chattering nonsense. A so called computer lab filled with handicap students and non-handicap students  or the non handicap students that slide over the ceramic cream color tiles with the wheel chairs with little wheels. The teacher indulged in his sown horrendous duties. Boredom surrounds me. My screwed up mind vibrates. I become the devil and my workshop kick-starts.
The ancient white idiot boxes lie switched off like dormant zombies, waiting to get their asses kicked and get their bodies re-buried.
I see them, they see me and then they see my writometer. I approach them with the pen. Do hell with those 15”/17” CRT, they aren’t my target, I am interested in something that lays lower, THE KEYBOARD.
New and old, black and white keyboards lay in their graves i.e the scrolling drawers. My mind tweaked my hands, and they followed the pen to crack the code.
I inserted the pen tip, under the key to be displaced, and then under the key to be inserted, fast but stealthily. Determination, danger, will, wickedness circled my head as I played with the keys. F1,F2,F3,F4 turned SEXY and F5,F6,F7,F8 changed their sexes to become GIRL.
Not to mention the multiple keyboards I  screwed up with the “F” word.
Hell if I can do it, why not you. The most enjoyable thing about the useless Keyboard Scrabble is that it might slaughter your boredom, though it might do the same with you, if the keyboard ain’t yours. But what’s the fun if you do It on your keyboard.
The most suitable gaming parlors for Keyboard Scrabble are school computer labs, cyber cafes, friend’s/foe’s computer when he/she might not be present.
Get ready, start bashing and mashing!


| 9 burps

My computer knows me better than I do… or it just cares for me… It has got some special artificial intelligence that whenever my examination gives a knock, it locks itself in weird ways, cringes my head with its infertility.
It tries everything, every damn’ thing to frustrate me  and divert my attention from it to me.
It handles my abuses, spanks and nuisances, but still it continues its Satyagraha and Gandhigiri to force  me to immerse myself in the disastrous tree waste i.e. the damned textbooks, so I can atleast pass in the exams.
In 2007, it screwed my head with frequent restarts like it was shivering with malaria, in its case I was the plasmodium.
I tried the non-Gandhian way at the C.P.U (since I suck at hardware messing). I slapped it with variations of forces and velocities, and sometimes it worked, just like a kid beaten by its parent, cries for a minute and then the kid is back to his hell.
Finally I called those S.O.B. computer engineers who show tantrums for a week or two, ignoring calls, handling them and making erratic excuses, as if they have made a deal with telecom companies, so that the moron whose computer turns moron has to shell out the money on telephone calls first and then on those damn bastards.
Now as my half yearly Ist semester exams shrieks are getting nearer and nearer, the Computer is back to haunt me so that I could finally study after wasting a whole lot of months on it.
Now its hanging, crashing, grunting, growling, turning sufi songs into heavy metal. And if that wasn’t enough, it increased the corruption levels by corrupting the windows.
An d now its suffocating along with me. Hope I respect my dear PC’s  temporary sacrifices for my better and let that hope rust in some Ghajini rod.