Mahasabha of Thots Chapter 1: Foot Soldier

Before you Read:

Listen here you little shits, this is something that you are willingly reading so don't you start trying to thought police me. I mean of course you can critique the work but try keeping your stupid ideas of misogyny and how i am "propagating it" to your own self, the idea here is to have fun with social commentary, not to demean women because we all know any successful and strong woman would not give quarter of a fuck about what obstacles lie in her path, neither would she have a ridiculous sense of entitlement. and i would go on to say that a random story written for the purposes of entertainment is hardly an impediment to anyone. Remember, you CHOSE to read this and if you get butt hurt i would recommend using some petroleum jelly next time before you switch on your "portal to the internet". 

    After that disclaimer for the idiots , i would go on and add that if you are a woman reading this and feel that this is "misogynistic" go and read the first paragraph again because i don,t have a different message for women. I believe in treating people like people, just like men did not fucking come from mars and require "martian entitlement" i expect women to act like normal people and cut the "venus entitlement". Everyone is equally inconsequential and idiotic including me so i would ask you to drop your paranoia outside before you step into the setting of this story.

    Like i said earlier, you are welcome to critique the work and offer feedback, i am incredibly receptive of feedback and criticism so please go ahead and fill the comments section with whatever you think of this work. If you stick around for long enough you will realise that feedback matters.

 

Mahasabha of Thots

Chapter 1: Foot Soldier

 Not everyone is a force of nature, not all shoes are big enough to leave footprints on the path to destiny. Man’s greatest fear, mediocrity is a fact of life that cannot be refuted. After all, an army is mostly foot soldiers. To be honest the footsoldier has one of the most dichotomous existence of all. The foot soldier by himself doesn’t have much value in the grand scheme of things, but if you take him away there is no army left.

Our story begins in the city of Allahabad, though that name will soon fall out of use and will eventually just remain an echo in the annals of history. This city has a feel that cannot be found elsewhere. You will find people of all types of mentality here, a unique breed of people who are both small town and big city at the same time. Today we shall follow a certain person about their day.

The foot soldier climbed aboard the Vikram tempo, these are a type of three wheeler private public transport that is popular all across India. To those who are unfamiliar with this "Kutchery-Tationary", let me educate you, a Vikram Tempo usually has a capacity of 7 passengers, however the usual number of passengers is 10 plus minus two kids and the conductor who dangles outside the vehicle. There are two seats in the back that face each other and when the "tempo" is filled to capacity the situation can get pretty cramped and uncomfortable, especially if you are a woman. For some reason women take extra issue in situations like this, failing to realize that guys are in the same bandwagon, literally. 

The footsoldier had to sit on the last vacant seat. Out of the eight people in the back there were two other females and five disgusting creatures that we shall speak of not. The first thing that the footsoldier noticed was that the two women were middle aged. That generally implied that their thinking was outmoded and orthodox and that was pretty evident from the fact that they had judgmental expressions of disgust which were probably evoked due to the sleeveless top she was wearing. Four of the five pigs averted their eyes immediately but one arrogant pig continued looking at her. She sat next to one of the women sitting opposite to the Pig who did not look away just to test his nerve, her crusade was against people like him who dared use their eyes and look at their surroundings. The footsoldier started counting, for after 14 seconds she could lecture him as the staring would have become a violation of the IPC section 354 D. "1 2 3 4 I am not a fucking whore, 5 6 7 8 9 my ethics are super great. 9 10 11 12 skewer the pigs and stack on shelf." . With every passing second she was getting more and more excited. The anticipation started to spill over onto her face. The boy's head started showing signs of turning, her heart skipped a beat, if he turned now all her pre-formulated rant, all of her preparations, all her time learning the golden arguments, all the time she invested into reading the "men are fiddle" manuscript from the Mahasabha, would be rendered useless. Her entire being prayed that the guy would not look away, and as if her prayer had been answered by some deity of thottery but what she did not know was that fate itself was twisting the yarn of her intent into the thread of the reality she so desired, the motion that had started on his neck instantly subsided. Thirteen, the tension had reached its peak. This was the final second, would he avert his gaze or would he keep looking? She was meanwhile completely unaware of the fact that she had herself been giving the guy a death stare for this entire time. Fourteen!

What do you think fighting for your side entails? In great wars, do sides battle? Is it as simple? Of course not. In a war, each soldier fights his own battle, and all such battles taken together create the endeavour for the side. Each foot soldier might seem inconsequential, but if not for the battle each of them fights, the war would not exist, Just a huddle of tacticians in a tent cant fight a war by themselves.

Final second was up, the Kamehameha was charged.

It is said that in ancient scriptures of thottery that have been all but lost to mankind, there are words of wisdom which when roughly translated to the devolved tongue we speak read ”Thots and tirades wait for none”. But in this case the thot had waited to unleash the tirade, such is the effect of the demonic laws that have caused rot and decay to our world.
Though she knew it not but not adhering to the ancient lost wisdom of the thots had dampened the impact of her assault. The verbal diarrhea, despite the ignorance of the natural principles of thottery was nothing to scoff at. It was as putrid and just as could be. The pig was swept away in the massive wave that emanated from the being of the footsoldier. The onlookers were shocked and dazzled from the sheer force and brilliance of the discourse.

The pig did not know what hit him, literally, he had no idea where all of this was coming from. He was thoroughly confused and shamed, he knocked on the ceiling of the Tempo. The vehicle braked and stopped on the side of the road. The pig got off. Such is the power of the Mahasabha that can change destiny itself. The boy was destined to reach kutchery on a tempo, but his fate was changed. The threads of his fate were unraveled by the words and trans-mundane power of thottery.

The Vikram restarted and with the pace of a triumphant champion continued its journey. The weak  might think that the traffic coupled with the state of the road would only allow such a pace but one should realise that the power that could twist the threads of fate was at play here. A resounding knock on the ceiling of the Vikram signalled it to stop, the victorious disembarked from the vikram, the black and gold glinting in the sun majestically. The footsoldier slung out her purse to pay the fare but the driver was already in prostration, He just looked at her with folded hands and eyes full of  either admiration or disdain, it was hard to make out what the emotion exactly was because the sun of elation and victory was shining down eclipsing everything with its light. The footsoldier blessed the driver with something in between a smile and a sneer though once again the sun of victory blotted out any possibility of finding out what that expression actually was. She continued to her destination walking with purpose and determination, with every step she pushed back the earth back with her might and the earth spun in place bringing her destination closer and closer.

The footsoldier turned the corner and there it was, the glorious headquarter of the Mahasabha, the building that represented all she stood for, the place which had given her the determination to keep marching forward in a world of dirt and swines, the place that gave her the purpose that she so lacked in her life, the place where she was understood the most, calling it the place where she felt home would be an insult for no home could even dream of coming close to the sheer amount of welcome she felt here. She stepped into the entrance hall and ecstasy took over her being, she was finally where she belonged.