Tag: blog

the time after work

30.03.2026

A: How was your evening?

S: Rushed. Everything is always rushed. There is a lot to do and no time to do it.

A: Have you not heard that phrase? If there is something to do, get a busy person to do it.

S: It is true.

A: So what were you up to?

S: I went to the gym where I did heavy weights, got some Rosemary and Mint oil for my hair at Superdrug as well as some Rosemary and Mint conditioner, did some window shopping in M & S, had dinner with my parents, wrote pen pal letters to two friends and applied for a management job. Messaged my girlfriend and two friends, including one who I’m discussing Shakespeare quotes with at the moment. Then, I played Scrabble, anagrams, a crossword and a jigsaw online. The last thing was writing.

A: Is that all you did out of work today?

S: No, I also listened to my Hindi music and visited the Oxfam bookshop.

A: You like to keep active and connected.

S: I wonder what it is all for. I am living life at a ferocious pace. It is all rush, rush, rush. I’m trying to fit many lives into one life. And still, there is never enough that is done. I have so many different writing projects, so many ideas in this head, so many secret knowledges that have not seen the light of day.

A: You often say that Faust got into heaven because he strove for it.

S: All of these things. Someone will look back at this one day. Wondering why this life was so busy and unrewarded. All that attempt at self-improvement which really comes to nothing in this cold and hostile world. All that genius that was wasted when I could have been extending the boundaries of human knowledge, when I could have been focusing on writing exclusively and on thinking and thinking.

A: Can you not relax?

S: Who would do all of my things for me then? How would I have a life outside of work and study and volunteering? It all has to be crammed together. Just cramming and cramming and cramming with no rest. The desire to have a good work and life balance, to have a gym routine, to fit in everyone that I know into things. The desire to keep this brain stimulated.

A: This energy that you have, it is like you are on cocaine.

S: Whatever it is, it is what my brain naturally produces. All on about six hours sleep every night.

being boundlessly busy

16.03.2026

A: What is it like being busy all of the time?

S: It’s been going on all of my life. It’s what I’m used to.

A: But how is it going?

S: There is never any time for anything. Yet everything somehow gets done.

A: It is all a massive investment of time, labour and love. Isn’t it all really draining?

S: Isn’t everything?

A: What makes it work work? What is the nitty and gritty of it?

S: My mother handles everything at home. I organise everything ruthlessly. I don’t dilly and dally, I just do things. I rush everything. I am super quick as a person. I do everything straight away when I get time, on my breaks and lunch breaks, walking to and fro from places, on the commute. Besides that, I have a remarkable memory, touch type really fast and, as I often say many times, I am a genius.

A: Why do you boast so much?

S: In a honour culture, boasting is tolerated. Because it is an honour culture.

A: These that read, none of them are not Punjabi. They hold it against you.

S: False modesty is hypocritical. I am objectively a genius based on my work. The magnus opus is still unpublished but it is in first draft form. In any case, this culture would dishonour me and treat me as nothing. This is not true. I am special. I am the kind of thinker that comes every few hundred years. It is just an objective fact. Even people around me recognise that I can just go into any field and know it all. I am the last generalist in a culture of specialists. My mind is more plastic than everyone else’s. That is another reason why I can cope with being busy at this level. So, to answer your question, the more they try to put me down, the more I congratulate myself for being myself. The more that they attack my identity and devalue it, the more value that I put into it.

A: Narcissistic defence.

S: The appreciation of real value. They can’t appreciate or reward real value. They are exploitative, prejudiced and, compared to me, they are all lazy and incapable. I am the best. Objective fact. And the other thing? They have never let me do anything. They have refused me all of the jobs that I wanted to do. So despite that, I am still doing all of these jobs on a voluntary basis or for free. It is spite that keeps me going, anger that keeps all of these plates spinning, the famous stubbornness of the Punjabi. It is the community that gives me strength and courage, skill and energy. The Mother Goddess Saraswati, Goddess of Learning, she has blessed her son in a world of ignorance, selfishness and hate. This genius that comes from the lower castes, who the whole world is against, despite them he has still achieved. That is why I am god. God accepts no limitation. I am the dream of India. The dream of The Mother. The Tiger.

the cheapness of the rich

15.03.2026

S: The rich are mean and cheap.

A: What makes you say this?

S: Every time that they have had a choice between the machine and the man, to exploit labour fully, they have chosen the machine. They do not want to feed families. They want labour at a minimal or zero cost. They are cheap and mean. Why did the windmills come in? Because they are cheap and mean. Why did the computers come in? Because they are cheap and mean. Why is AI coming in and taking over all professions? Because they are cheap and mean.

A: And?

S: They have no empathy with others. They do not want to share their resources with others. They want to keep all the money for themselves and keep themselves at the top of this fawning and sycophantic society of slaves that fawn over them. They do not care about the planet. They care about AI. They do not care about the families. They care about themselves. They would rather have everyone out of work and for AI to be taking all of the jobs.

A: If you hate them so much, why don’t you do something about it?

S: I have told you so many times before. You can not touch them. You can do nothing about it. Because this is a society of slaves. They would let anyone walk all over them. They have no backbone, no discipline and no idea of how to organise and do anything. Try to persuade them. They will do nothing. Unless you preach hate against those that they perceive as less than them.

A: Become a luddite. Destroy the machines.

S: That is what this age calls for. And yet, these cowards and non-men sit there, doing nothing. The world burns with climate change. What do they really do about it? They can do nothing. That is why they are non-men. The leaders that they choose have nothing in them. They can do nothing against the rich because they worship them. They want to be them.

the life of a monk

27.02.2026

A: When people ask you about all those years that you studied for a doctorate, what do you tell them about it?

S: I tell them that it was a waste of time. It resulted in nothing. If you are educated in the humanities as an ethnic minority man, then nothing comes of it. They say that they are educated. In their racism perhaps.

A: But you have published books and articles! How can you call it a waste?

S: How has it benefitted me in any way? Where is my reward? Where are my opportunities? Where is my network? Where is my influence? They look at my name, this foreign name. And then they reject.

A: What else do you think of this time studying? I thought that you liked studying?

S: Who would like studying that goes nowhere? The only good thing about it is that I am writing the truth which they are too ignorant to know, despite their arrogance and their gatekeeping and their privilege of acceptance. What did I think about it? I think that I had to live the life of a monk.

A: In what way?

S: There was no money coming in and therefore no one was interested in me. There was no love life. There was no money coming in, so the range of options to do was severely limited. I was on my own most of the day studying, in quiet reflection and contemplation. And afterwards? Again, there was no money coming in. They were starving me for my brain. That was the experience that I had.

A: How did you last it?

S: Because I know that I am a genius. Because I did not expect their racism. Do you think I have been going around my whole life thinking people are racist? Not at all. When I was young, I believed their lip service that they had acceptance in this society. It is adult life which has taught me what they are. The blocking of every opportunity. Even when you pass the interviews, do the work, get the experience, still they will block you. Nobody will ever help you. Because you are not one of them.

A: You are a monk no more.

S: And I do not want to become a monk. Now I have a girlfriend. Now I have money.

A: And that talent of yours, is it still being fulfilled?

S: If what you mean is, am I still writing, am I still an author, am I still focused on producing the truth? Yes. I write for art websites. I write for the media. I am still writing on art history and working on a dissertation that will become a journal article. And you know what? I am still not getting paid for this brain which is worth millions and millions in terms of genius. What a life. It is a punishment being a genius and not a blessing. Because this world is full of morons and the greedy who do not know the real value of anything, let alone genius.

how a piece of shit thinks (microfiction)

28.11.2025

S: You don’t have to wonder what a piece of shit thinks. They are trumpeting it everywhere. Trump is trumpeting it. And so is that fucking arsehole Farage. In fact this whole fascist government is trumpeting that fucking bullshit.

A: And what is it that this piece of shit is thinking?

S: Anyone with any sense knows that instead of putting their own house in order, these racist vermin are blaming all of the problems that they have created on ethnic minorities and people coming into the country. Deflection. Externalisation. In a word, bullshit. While the ethnic minorities and people coming into the country are doing all the work that they won’t and can’t do.

A: How is it working?

S: While their racist ‘civilisation’ is dictating the terms of conduct and thought throughout the whole world, as they continue to colonise the whole world and eradicate difference, they are pretending that they are at risk of extinction. Because these fascists can’t tolerate that there might be a different way of living and thought. While they are hoarding all the wealth in the world for themselves and stealing it from others, they are pretending that we are stealing all their wealth. They can’t stand meritocracy and fair competition because they have no talent themselves – only their privilege.

A: Who are the morons that are falling for this shit?

S: The moron has nothing. No talent and no spirit or thought. They are fucking slaves. What they have is the colour of their skin or their nationality. And they think, because of that, that they are better than everyone else. But they don’t really believe that they are better than anyone else. Because inside, they know that they are nothing but a piece of shit. So they try to pick on who they perceive is weaker than themselves, all the while knowing that those people are better than they are. Because those others are not full of hate like they are. These fucking slaves don’t have the fighting spirit to wage war against the rich. They are sycophants and bend over to let the rich and powerful fuck them. So they pick on who they perceive as the poor and hungry. They don’t have belief in their own ‘civilisation’ – they think that anyone can displace it and rule over them. They are cowards that move in a herd and have no originality or independence of vision. They love lies. They love hate. They hate love.

A: How do you stop a piece of shit thinking like a piece of shit?

S: They only have hate. That is all they have. Read ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. Trash only has race and nationality, they don’t have anything else. They are hollow scum. Just like Mayella Ewell is ruled over by her ignorant father in the novel to believe that she is superior because of the colour of her skin, so these fucking morons, these fucking slaves can only be ruled with hate.

if death came (microfiction)

11.11.2025

A: You do not want to die.

S: There is a Hindi song. You have the desire to live. You have the wish for death. Everyone wants to die. No one wants to die. While I live, I eat healthy food, exercise and look after myself. I haven’t lost my discipline. And discipline is oriented towards long life. Yet in the moment of sadness and separation, we stare longingly at death. Our mouths water…

A: That’s enough of that. But if you did die, what then?

S: Who would care?

A: Irrespective of that, what about your ideas?

S: I notice the things that no one notices. They have lain there for over a hundred years. Maybe somebody would notice. Maybe there would be one that comes that could be as wise as me.

A: And what if it is just you? Only you that can see these things? Why have they lain dormant a hundred years or more until you have come?

S: You do not believe me when I say I am a genius. Someone like me only comes once every hundred or two hundred years. Do you know how much I have studied? I haven’t just studied the three undergraduate degrees. I have done university courses in every subject in the humanities. On top of that, I have the natural cunning of a Punjabi villager. I see. Probably, if I die, what I have discovered will remain undiscovered forever.

A: If you really are that important, if you really are a genius, why then do you not work and work and work? And write and write and write?

S: For these people? For these fucking people? You cannot be serious. They would starve me. They would put me in the corner and turn their backs to me. They have made life hard, a life of suffering. Work for them? Them? With their pettiness and frivolity? Their lack of any kind of understanding? The lack of any kind of meritocracy or value?

A: Do not become Achilles. He was the greatest. Yet he would not fight if he was not awarded the spoils.

S: I am ego. Ego must be fed. The Tiger is hungry, ravenous. For what is his. But I will give what I give when the time is ripe. I will not kill myself for it. For these people? No. For my people. For the Revolution.

the children of genius (microfiction)

22.10.2025

S: When you think about it, there are millions of children that I am producing in a day. But none of them ever see the light of day.

A: And? It is the same for every man. You can’t regret potential for not happening. Everyone is full of potential.

S: Are they though? Is talent that common? I doubt it. But the point that I am making is that there are possibly hundreds of geniuses that I could be producing.

A: Here is this claim again. What qualifies you as a genius? Presumably you are saying that you want to pass on your intelligence?

S: Being able to see what no one else can see. I have proved it time and time again. Look at each of my publications. For these famous authors, they have been studied by experts for their whole life. And those experts still can’t see what I am seeing.

A: If you are such a genius, why don’t you have any recognition?

S: Racism. Ignorance. Difference is marginalised in this culture. If you can’t take my word for it, look at the studies that prove it statistically. The intelligensia in this country is one of the most racist in the entire world. Do you know why I was rejected from Cambridge? I passed the interview. It was my brown skin that got in the way. So they pooled me and eventually did not have me. It doesn’t matter what anyone says about it. That is what they are like. Full of racist shit. There is always the reluctance and the excuse. Any excuse. Exclusion on the flimsiest of pretexts. How many of those people they chose over me have published books and articles like I have? Exactly.

A: If you are a genius, don’t you owe it to the world to write?

S: I don’t owe this world of shit anything or anything to anyone.

A: You are squandering your talent.

S: Fuck these people. Let them drown in their ignorance. The gift is too precious to give to them.

A: Yet you told me that you are writing that new book, that colossal and earth-shattering book.

S: I will write it. Because one has been chosen to know all alone of the countless. Because one is a genius. Because a genius is proven by work, not by recognition.

A: If you are this genius, work out a way to pass it on. The waste if you are right…

S: I am working on it. In love, like in work, like in life, genius is not rewarded. Whereas ignorance…

control (microfiction)

04.10.2025

‘You don’t have any self-control’. Alfonso commented.

‘On the contrary, I have the most in the world.’ I responded. He was always accusing me of something or the other. Everyone was always accusing me of something. That was all that I was to them. Someone to accuse. Well, I accused in my turn. I accused them.

‘In what way?’ Alfonso asked incredulously. ‘You have fallen in love with women that are not even your type just because of close proximity to them. Several times.’

‘Have you not read Proust’s magnum opus?’ I asked. ‘That is how they get you. Through the proximity. You are assured that you are safe. You are not.’

‘So how do you have any self-control?’

‘Because even though I loved them, I did not even touch them.’

‘That is not your self-control,’ Alfonso sneered at me. ‘They did not let you touch them.’

‘You should be around beauty all day and not get a taste of it,’ I said to him. ‘Then judge me.’

Alfonso snorted. ‘Let us chisel past that front. What original thoughts did you have today?’

‘There is an author who has written a new book about how we know what everyone knows, how common sense is created. It is the mark of a philistine and a mediocre Western mind that this book was written. Because their conceit is to always talk about a positive form of knowledge when it is not knowledge at all. Socrates knew that. Here, common knowledge. What everyone knows. In fact, common knowledge is just a form of ignorance. It is what the fool knows. The wise man is the one that knows. What is common knowledge? That you should pour wealth on yourself like excrement to be considered attractive and influential? That education is worthless? That hate sells? Why do you think that living piece of shit Trump and that specimen of rancid ear wax Farage are in the ascendency? Because they know what the scum think. And what the scum thinks is ignorance, lies and stupidity. That is all that they can accept. Not love, truth or justice.’

‘You are full of hate,’ Alfonso commented. ‘Even more hate than they are.’

‘This poison that is in me,’ I said. ‘It will kill the evil in this world.’

‘You will choke on it,’ Alfonso said. ‘You are the only one that will be hurt by it. Come, forget this. Something else.’

‘How about this for a thought? What is this garbage?’

‘What do you mean? Alfonso looked at me keenly.

‘This life. It is garbage. What is this garbage? Even religious people want to escape this life. The Hindu wants to escape the cycle of rebirth and reincarnation. The Christian, the Muslim and the Jew want to go to heaven. They want to die rather than to live.’

Alfonso shook his head at me. So what? It was the truth. Nobody wanted to live here. Look at this fucking garbage that they had made. Alfonso was asking me about original thoughts I was having in this fucking garbage. The stench of it was making me sick. The sight of its ugliness was denting my mind and my eyes. Its extent was polluting the whole of society. And Alfonso wanted an original thought from me that wasn’t cynical and jaded, weary of this fucking garbage. All there was was this fucking garbage. And when you pointed out the garbage, nobody listened and they tried to attack you. That was the triumph of the garbage.

game theory and genius (microfiction)

18.08.2025

‘You know, game theory is the truth. It’s how humans behave.’ As usual, it was me and Alfonso. It would always be just me and Alfonso. Because there was no one else in my life. We had our own little world, our little kingdom together. Yes, we were both kings together. And I, a solitary king.

‘Of course, you must go on,’ said Alfonso. He was wearing exquisite jewellery today, bedecked like a Hellenic dream of Persian magnificence and luxury. For him, fashion was everything. Style and substance. It suited him well, gold. He was a golden man.

‘Game theory says that no one will change the brute stupidity that they run their lives by, because they have set it down as the rule.’

‘Is this the usual rant about stupidity and conformity and the stupid conformists?’

‘You know me well. Could a genius say anything different?’

‘And what would a genius say about game theory?’

‘Game theory also applies to genius. Look at myself. My research was revolutionary and interdisciplinary. I am the last generalist in a world of pedantic specialists with their disciplines and their tunnel vision. They could not take it. The brute stupidity of their rules in a putative academia could not take real intelligence. They insist upon their stupidity as their rule. The way I can put things together into new combinations and innovative formulations. It is the same wherever I go. No one can keep up with me and therefore they try to marginalise me and throw a shade upon my magnificence.’

‘You are all ego.’

‘I deserve the recognition. You know it yourself.’

‘I do know it!’ Alfonso slapped his thigh and laughed. ‘Only you know things. But remember, the stupid hate the clever. It is in the Greek tragedies with Medea. The foreign woman…’

‘I am the foreign woman.’

‘Yes. And therefore your cleverness is abhorrent. It will get you nowhere. It does not matter if you achieve, educate, learn, do.’

‘And that is something that I know. I am the genius that suffers from game theory. I am cleverness against stupidity and limited perception.’

‘Dont worry’. Alfonso sighed. He often did so when we spoke. Alfonso believed in me. No one else could but he could. And he believed in me because he knew my talent. He had recognised something in me. Others recognised and still they shunned and still they sinned with their unfairness. But yet, truth exists. Philosophers thought the whole world was a lie. That all learning was a lie. It was not so. I had discovered the truth. I knew truths about justice, injustice and human nature as it had been corrupted. However anyone tried to keep me down, I knew. I was wise.

‘The inventor of game theory,’ continued Alfonso, ‘descended into madness. Be careful what you know and how it affects your mind. Remain a genius. Do not forget yourself in insanity. Pride yourself on sobriety and avoid intoxication. Cling to the truth while others drown around you. And voice what is rather than what is not. In the Gita, work is done for the sake of work, not for the reward. For neither love nor money. And money…’ Alfonso smiled, ‘is something that you have.’

But not love.