An anarchic human

Today morning I decided to put a full stop to my nightly chat with girls. It's just that I get horny after dinner and I search for girls over whatsapp, facebook, gtalk, viber and ask them every wierd question ranging from mini skirts, shorts, boobs, sex and lesbian friends (strictly in that order). At the end of it I earned another name 'Jerk'. It is not that I don't deserve to be called so. But I prefer not to go 'viral' and freak out anymore ladies.

In the afternoon, after making the life saving decision, I went out to get my daily coffee from a joint nearby. Now the joint, ICH, is quite famous in the city and there are good cances to run into old friends who happen to be there for a long conversation or silent rumination

And today I met my old friend who was into law these days. We chatted over a coffee  about the case he was into. A IT proffessional lady conspired with her lover to bump off the kids and in-laws. Her idea of a rosy life-ever-after was to get divorce from the husband with no strings attached.
I have always had  this fascination for men in black coat. They gulp up pages and pages just to drag the process for eternity. I asked my defense-lawyer-friend if he thought she deserved punishment.
Óf course she killed the kids'

I wondered aloud , what made her take such a risk knowing very well that a small mistake can result in te murder plans falling apart. She would be faced with a society too eager to cast the first stone and a judge too happy to tie the noose

A few days ago,  a couple of hundred miles from here, the cool liberal youths got together to kiss in public. Suddenly out of nowhere a religious group who hated people kissing in public brought an Ox and cow to drive home the fact that kissing in public is 'çattle culture'

What is it really that differentiate a 'human' from a 'çattle'. Is it the rules he conforms to? Who has set the rule? What do you really mean by the term 'society'? Why do we fear anarchy?

I had a friend from college who had this cute figure. More than the figure it was this mysterious current flowing underneath which could whip up some passion. After college we drifted apart and she got married , migrated to the paradise- USA. Last time we talked I came to know that she wa bringing up her baby alone, while her husband was far away busy minting money. I being the usual jerk, kept on probing and realized she was forced into marriage with the belief that life was adjustable.
I was disturbed that the girl, whom I believed to be the strongest ever, was forced into a decision which could ruin the rest of her life . If givena chance I would have asked what tied the 'husband' to her? But then she might call me the jerk.

If I was made to plead the case of the murderer I would ask the judge- Why couldn't we allow her to fuck the person she loved? Why did we make her someone she didn't know ? Why did we ask her to bear children when she didn't want to?