I once you a man named Raju Chacha. Well I do wonder whether he was actually a man at all, for he had no balls. Well some men have no balls I guess. Raju Chacha, or Dr Raju Chacha (as he called himself), or Dr Raju Chacha the (in)famous writer, professor and activist (as he liked people to call him), was a being of the peculiar sorts.
It seems he took birth in the year of P, on a DO note, and his ancestors were from SEU, such that he wrongly combined the ingredients of life and became a PSEUDO. The year of P seemed to guide his entire life though, for he called himself Professor, Politically inclined, Passionate, Precious etc., but other people called him Pussy, Prat, Preposterous, Poker-faced, or simply Pseudo.
He was a thin tall man- so thin and so tall that he looked like (just ‘looked like’, he was not) one of those dried up trees in the midst of a desert; the kind of rebel trees that allow themselves to take root amidst sand dunes, and grow up with dried rigid dark branches and a solid trunk, and thus spend their life, without ever breaking, and without ever shedding a single leaf, like they would want to defy the laws of nature. But don’t think too nobly of Dr Raju Chacha, for he was not so much of an unconventional tree. It may have looked so on the outside, that he was the kinds that would not break, but the real reason behind it (and that few people knew) is that he bent like a blade of grass to the wind and to the forces of his life, and this is the only reason why he did not break!
People who knew him better thus called him pseudo, the farce, the projection of a fantasy thrice (or was it four times?) removed from the reality of being an unconventional tree (or anything unconventional for that matter) that wouldn’t bend (or break) to the wind.
It seems he took birth in the year of P, on a DO note, and his ancestors were from SEU, such that he wrongly combined the ingredients of life and became a PSEUDO. The year of P seemed to guide his entire life though, for he called himself Professor, Politically inclined, Passionate, Precious etc., but other people called him Pussy, Prat, Preposterous, Poker-faced, or simply Pseudo.
He was a thin tall man- so thin and so tall that he looked like (just ‘looked like’, he was not) one of those dried up trees in the midst of a desert; the kind of rebel trees that allow themselves to take root amidst sand dunes, and grow up with dried rigid dark branches and a solid trunk, and thus spend their life, without ever breaking, and without ever shedding a single leaf, like they would want to defy the laws of nature. But don’t think too nobly of Dr Raju Chacha, for he was not so much of an unconventional tree. It may have looked so on the outside, that he was the kinds that would not break, but the real reason behind it (and that few people knew) is that he bent like a blade of grass to the wind and to the forces of his life, and this is the only reason why he did not break!
People who knew him better thus called him pseudo, the farce, the projection of a fantasy thrice (or was it four times?) removed from the reality of being an unconventional tree (or anything unconventional for that matter) that wouldn’t bend (or break) to the wind.
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