The mind just went berserk
I charted my future till my death. Dunno if it will follow this path. It was a thought process that Brown of the Brownian motion fame would have heartily approved of.
I am moving to Hrishikesh, becoming a sadhu and writing crappy romance novels. I will make a fortune! I'll smoke a cheelum, grow my beard and waylay female tourists for recreation.
Every Kumbhmela and Sinhamela, I will go to mecca and every ramzan I will take a dip in the ganges. I will have 4 wives, one of them a hongkongese film star, the other a CA, the third and engineer and the fourth a singer. I will give my money away to the rich and rob from the poor. Then i will win a rajya sabha seat at the age of 53 and be declared caretaker Prime Minister after a terrorist attack wipes out half the MP's. I will usurp power, suspend the constitution, declare a war on estonia and occupy. I will legalise all vices. Since every decadent man who pretends to have a plan and philosophy attracts followers, I will have my share too. They will be the Sabnisites who will wear grey gaberdines and t shirts with obscene gestures on them, and cry "Up with the Grand Sabnis".
But then my CA wife will get a chocolate souffle addiction, gain weight and get jealous since I won't spend nights with her. She will empty the country's treasury and fund the Estonian fightback, and become the Queen there. She will also get a control over the IMF and World Bank. I will join all the rivers of the country , only to find that the water is still not enough, and the country's gone totally bankrupt due to my CA wife and the river project.
So the World Bank and IMF will bail me out on the condition that I declare chocolate souffle as the national staple diet. The big souffle tycoon from Malta, who is my Engineer wife's secret lover will gain control over a monopolistic market and eventually depose me. I will be assassinated by a crazed parent whose daughter committed suicide after being inspired by my crappy romance novels.
I will be cremated and as an honour to me, my ashes will be mixed in the souffle that day. So if a guy's ashes are gonna turn to souffle anyway, why should he move to the Himalayas? That's a pertinent question!
I charted my future till my death. Dunno if it will follow this path. It was a thought process that Brown of the Brownian motion fame would have heartily approved of.
I am moving to Hrishikesh, becoming a sadhu and writing crappy romance novels. I will make a fortune! I'll smoke a cheelum, grow my beard and waylay female tourists for recreation.
Every Kumbhmela and Sinhamela, I will go to mecca and every ramzan I will take a dip in the ganges. I will have 4 wives, one of them a hongkongese film star, the other a CA, the third and engineer and the fourth a singer. I will give my money away to the rich and rob from the poor. Then i will win a rajya sabha seat at the age of 53 and be declared caretaker Prime Minister after a terrorist attack wipes out half the MP's. I will usurp power, suspend the constitution, declare a war on estonia and occupy. I will legalise all vices. Since every decadent man who pretends to have a plan and philosophy attracts followers, I will have my share too. They will be the Sabnisites who will wear grey gaberdines and t shirts with obscene gestures on them, and cry "Up with the Grand Sabnis".
But then my CA wife will get a chocolate souffle addiction, gain weight and get jealous since I won't spend nights with her. She will empty the country's treasury and fund the Estonian fightback, and become the Queen there. She will also get a control over the IMF and World Bank. I will join all the rivers of the country , only to find that the water is still not enough, and the country's gone totally bankrupt due to my CA wife and the river project.
So the World Bank and IMF will bail me out on the condition that I declare chocolate souffle as the national staple diet. The big souffle tycoon from Malta, who is my Engineer wife's secret lover will gain control over a monopolistic market and eventually depose me. I will be assassinated by a crazed parent whose daughter committed suicide after being inspired by my crappy romance novels.
I will be cremated and as an honour to me, my ashes will be mixed in the souffle that day. So if a guy's ashes are gonna turn to souffle anyway, why should he move to the Himalayas? That's a pertinent question!
