How do one define self? Shucks, what kind of question is that? Let me rephrase it. Everyone describes self as they perceive themselves. Aah, not happening. Anyways, the point is considering the current SNS, Blog, and sites of every kinds wherein first thing anyone asked is to fill in the 'About Me' section. My reasoning here is if I know 'About Me', why should I say it there? Doesn't it make sense if you join, interact and let others say 'About Me'? Makes sense. But then virtual realization could be diametrically opposite to that person's real self. So, doesn't it make sense if I fill that section? Makes sense to me. Didn't I just contradict myself. Well, I am Oxymoronic for nothing. So, There I go and rant 'About Me'.

BIRTH

This creature Oxymoronic a.k.a Oxy was born on February 16, 1411 as Eros Adonis. He was born special. Cuz he was born in an ordeal!!!! Satan came all the way from hell to sanctify the baby and took him in his hands. When Satan lovingly pinched the baby’s cheek, the baby slipped from his hands. Every one was about to scream in horror but screams got stuck in their throats with eyes and mouth wide open when they witnessed baby landing safely on the ground on his feet. They all then knew he was special.

POST-BIRTH

It was few days after his birth that he began showing evidences of supernatural powers. He began to walk when he was 7 days old and could talk after 12 days. People already started fearing him. Who wouldn’t, if an infant called you a fat, stinking idiot.

4 days after he started talking he wandered around like a nomad and there on the top of hill he saw a beautiful person. He smiled first time since his birth for that exquisite sight of that beautiful person making a drink with aphrodisiac (for beginners, it is a drink or food that makes people want to have sex). He came within reach of that beautiful person and asked her name. She coyly said Aphrodite with a glance that depicted she was waiting only for him all this while. She offered him half the drink and drank herself the further half. And then they got strangled with the hands of lust. In those moments of definitive bliss, he grasped she was not born as ordinary women were; but tied with silver splendor of foam. Blazed in starry skies; raised from the depths of sapphire seas.

Oblivious to the marching steps of some human, they remained entangled in each other’s arms. That ‘some human’ was Zeus, father of her. He saw Zeus raising his right hand with a sword caught in it. And before he could do anything, he saw her head separated from her torso. All her bright golden hair tarnished with rust; She that was beautiful and fair, fallen to dust. Lily-like, white as snow she hardly knew; She was a woman, so sweetly she grew. He laid the heavy stones on her breast and vexed his heart alone; She was at rest. Peace, peace, she could not hear. All his life is buried there; heaped earth upon her.

Nothing interested him. He departed this life before he could grow up. He devoted most of his time in his dingy study room. He started making things that were of no use for him. He called them his inventions. He first made metallic girl – which much to his annoyance did nothing but spit. Then he made sword made of plastic to kill that metallic girl and fire made of snow to melt the sword made of plastic.

And then he made his biggest mistake. He made a time machine…

THE DEATH

He made the time machine when he was 16 years old and the year was 1427. He called that his best invention ever. He loved going back into the time and meddling with history. He pulled the only leaf, which was covering Eve’s private part. He tickled Dussashan in his armpits whilst he was trying to pull off Draupadi’s saree. He slapped one of Ravana’s face and plucked hair out of his nose from the other face. He drank the Jesus’s wine at his supposedly last supper.

He decided to go into the future only once and that day he died.

He leapfrogged to 1981. He was been born again. Satan was bespectacled wearing some white apron this time and there were few girls who surrounded Satan in white hats. He guessed they were Satan’s secretaries. He took more than usual to walk and talk this time. However, wandering stayed put. Everything was diverse and new-fangled to him. People were rotten pieces of scum in this life as well. His soul was filled with gloomy heaviness. He had no joy in nature, in its people, in their activities.

He knew nothing and wished not to know anything at all. With his machine he could easily go into past and come back to present as Eros, but now he was in future and could not go to past as Eros. Cuz he knew it’s effortless to go into past and come back to present but even more complex to come into future and go to past.

That one day a bee sang out a tune for him and mocked his heart. That it stung him to anguish, so there he placed; self-tortured, self-tormented. And that day he died….