Alienman calling Alienman!

It dampens your spirit when you realize that you aren’t even the best possible copy of your potential self. There were number of possible permutations and combinations, many of which superior quality wannabe off springs that didn’t get a chance to tell their story, because you somehow beat them in a stupid race when Mamma and Papa were making their holy alliance. This is Natural Selection’s way of saying that it sucks to be you. And, now for over a year – I have been asking this question to myself – How did I survive so far?

Granted that one no longer needs to be a brute in order to chase down competition from other species, one no longer needs to even be sturdy – there are ample drugs available in market that take care of your weakling of a body. I am told that the only way out to be an alpha male in today’s society is to have a superior intellect. I had such scholarly pretensions! Well, there is no longer a need to chart the course across a deluded mind, but now that I know that I am supremely stupid, I wonder how I survived the world! Why am I not zapped out of my existence when the world, I am told, still follows the prime heuristic, ‘Survival of the Fittest’. I should have been amongst the first batch of crops to be destroyed at the altar of Natural Selection. But here I find myself, in a top-notch sulk, irrationally angry at the world which has allegedly wronged me.

I discovered that I do possess one quality, which Gilderoy Lockhart from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets possessed. I know how to package myself. Imagine that an upstart lion decides to challenge a reigning one, and instead of challenging him to a duel, he starts singing a paean in his self-praise: How thick is my mane, how stout my legs, my paws deliver a mighty blow, I have screwed many a few dusky beauties, and do you know how I defeated Simba the lion, etc. And to think of it, the other lion simple relents due to inferiority complex!! Intentionally or unintentionally, I have cultivated an aura of genius around my persona. That goofy look, ability to use long phrases while talking shit, that rude voice which is constantly irritated by the surrounding lesser sentient beings, the subtle hyperbole about one’s abilities…

You either need to be an extremely skilled actor or an unassuming buffoon who believes his own self-concocted fantasies about himself in order to be able to pull this off. I assume the latter to be true in my case. Only a rigorous prodding up my ass by the various interviewers of the B-Schools gave me a chance to get a real sneak-peek into what truly I am.

And it unsettles me to know that I am a loser. Seriously, it is an Anti-Eureka moment! Self-Help books won’t suffice. Mechanical masturbation won’t do. Philosophy lessons with your more successful contemporaries would surely sink you more than make you buoyant. Dreams to be a nerdy playboy are inherently just, dreams. The realization that even with a lever and a place to stand, I won’t be able to move the world is a real spirit-dampener. And hence I have decided to go on a one hell of an egotistic journey. I have decided, once again, to write Alienman!