TRIPLE POST TIME Where the zoozoo’s return to haunt me


I tend to think about the human personality quite a bit. How people are so different in so many ways. The incredibly varied degrees of intelligence, humour and those quirks of personality which makes (most) people so utterly unbearable.

And it hit me last night (around 3 in the morning when I could not sleep coz it was just so fukin hot. And I do mean hot. Like the mattress was warm. Fuck. It ain’t even may!”)

Anyway, so I was thinking and I realised that it all boils down to the zoozoos. Yup, once again, I imagined zoozoo’s to be the souls of human beings. And just before they enter a human body, they go shopping. Yeah that’s right.

Shopping at the Hypermarket of Personality. So you have rows and rows of “Humour Bones” and “Intelligent nuts” and stuff like that. You buy all these traits and then, as soon as you check out, boom! The soul enters human. Human becomes sum of items bought.

Except, to make it more interesting, in my head the Personality Preload is not some relaxed amble over sparkling clean white tiles amidst air-conditioned comfort. Strolling with the trolley tinkling along. Nope. It’s this mad rush where the zoozoos are given 200 bucks and, perhaps, four minutes.

Kinda like those reality shows where the next model/chef/serial killer/radio jockey has to buy all the items required for the next “challenge”.

So you have these crazy-ass zoozoos running all over the place, desperately looking for all the things they require. Crashing and banging into each other all the time. Fist fights erupting over who gets the last packet of “sexy lips”. Major brawls over the discounted six-pack of “6 pack abs”. Heated words exchanged over who gets to keep the plastic-sealed containers of “super human intelligence” and the like. Some zoozoos trying to shoplift a can of “melodic laughter”, desperately trying to hide it under his shirt. And approaching the check out counter with a mysterious can-shaped bulge near his titties.

And just to make it more interesting, the store owner (think wise man with long beard) would purposely have limited supplies of certain things. So, only the quickest zoozoo would get the “Truffle of sparkling teeth” or the “Cunning caviar” or whatever. And since souls never die, He would constantly change the contents of each aisle. So while Aisle 1 may have had “Taste in clothes” on one day, the next time it would be “Basic Hygiene” and so on and so forth.

And then they would line up at the check out counter, some wailing, some happy. Each contemplating the un/lucky human they are about to become.

My zoozoo spent the first three minutes shamelessly staring at the porn magazines. Then realised that the time was nearly up so decided to go the alcohol section and grab the discounted, ultra-cheap pack of “neurotia”. Finished half of it by the time the check out lady could tag it by which time he was probably enjoying a mellow high. Thrown out the shop while yelling the words “Yuuuu dwon own meeee, maather fuckers!”

Or so I would like to believe.


While most people think of eating as a sensory experience, I think they are just thinking about the taste part.

For me though, good food is more than just that. It’s the way food feels inside, if you know what I mean. Like those kathi rolls, well imagine your teeth crunching through a crisp and flaky parantha, then hitting a thinnish layer of fried egg and and crunchy onions and then the soft, meat in the inner layer.

Or when you are eating puchkas (alright, fine its not paani puri) and you bite the thin shell and the tangy water floods your mouth.

Or placing a succulent piece of steak into your mouth and feeling the tenderness in each bite. The sound the knife makes as it cuts a little piece off and, with each bite, the juices flow into your mouth.

It really is not about the taste, some times.



I normally do not pick on other people’s writings. Have sorta accepted the fact that most people will never be as talented as I am. However, a couple of articles in the recent Yuva mag just totally got my goat. There was one from the Ed where s/he confessed that the first time s/he used a computer was when s/he was 26!. He edits a mag called Yuva! fuckin hell.

The other was this lame-ass article on how to make one’s blog more attractive and reader friendly.

“Make each image like a sensory hug”. or something like that.

Suk ma balzac


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3 Responses to TRIPLE POST TIME Where the zoozoo’s return to haunt me

  1. anonymusketeer says:

    i have no balzac but i am going to use that phrase in EVERY. POSSIBLE. CONTEXT.

    • kroswami says:

      err its kinda hard to imagine in what context you could use that…considering the fact that the balzac is missing.

  2. Karthy says:

    I am still to read the entirety of this post, but I am so gunning for your souls were zoozoos theory. it makes absolutely awesome sense. No really. I mean the movies might show them as semitransparent, shiny floating around whishy washy things…but the zoozoos. what an idea, sirji! 😀 I wonder if people would think up ways of knowing where the zoozoos would have spent time in the supermarket… other than guessing that is. Like where rich to be parents would hold awesomely complicated seance-s type things to make sure there unborn zoozoo totally shops for the right things 🙂 yes yes my zoozoo totally spent its time in the bat-crazy section 😀

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