Make him get into LUMS. Pick a pretty girl. Maybe just cute. Get him infatuated with her totally. Stare at her always. Get her awesome clothes first, the kind that either go way too up or way too down. And yet never quite enough. Once he’s mad. Pump him well and good. When he finally picks up the courage and says to her, “aap mujh se fraandship karein gi?”…tell her to give him THE look. THE look is the one with the eyebrow slightly raised, saying how confused she is. The brow doesn’t know how could this be possible. This travesty. This impudence. The eyebrow saying all this has an eye under it. It rolls. It rolls like it has never been rolled before. While the eyebrow is all confused, the eye is all loathing. It has all the hate and disgust in the world. It suddenly reminds the boy of the time he wet his pants back in grade 3 and even the Miss laughed at him. The other eye. That hazel-green eye which always seemed smiling, is not smiling now. Its just furious. And the fury doesn’t die till his self esteem is taken and sucked dry. The remaining eye brow is nicer though. It tells him to run off with only a slight tinge of self-importance. It tells him what he wants to hear. But he knows not how to tell those wimpy blocks of lead under his torso to move.
By this time, he has had two to three minor heart attacks. Tell the girl to do the turn around. THE turnaround. Where she turns with her whole body and reminds him of his place in the universe. It doesn’t exist. Not in this dimension. He might belong to some un-intelligent life form on a planet of the apes dimension, but probably not. The final major heart attack.
Death due to embarrassment, . At the very least, he is no more than a walking zombie. The undead.
Done!
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