There is nothing called Rational Thinking, only Rational Justification!

Yes you can stop guessing who said that. I said that and I firmly believe in it. I am sure many of you relate to it and others will claim that they can think rationally. But the fact remains that whatever you thought don’t usually work out the same way you expected and then you do justify.

The whole point of rationality is acceptance. The general or societal or public acceptance. So it makes perfect sense to justify your action rationally than to act rationally. Because if you actually start to think and act rationally then you are as good as being in jail, coz its plain restrictive.

Well thats it for today, I will think of something later and add to this after I spend some time thinking rationally 😉

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I don’t DATE coz I am bad with numbers!!!

Yes, I hate dates…I detest them. I cannot stand the idea of dates…because dates are made of numbers and yes I confess…for the first time I confess…I am Arithmophobic or Numerophobic….well not exactly to the full extent of its defination but I am sure I lie somewhere real close.

Since my early childhood, I detested numbers. The story goes way back to when I was in 1st standard (grade). I am not sure if my deluded memory betrays me but I am sure I successfully hosted the singular Chicken pox fun-fair on me that year. So successful was it that I missed school for quite some time. So after my solar-heated neem water bath, I went to school to realize that my maths teacher had taken a surprisingly, highly enthusiastic interest in completing the key areas of the increasingly ‘i-hate-you’ subject.

Since I was left out of the conspiracy of my class to talk in numbers, I decided to protest by not wasting pages of my homework book with the dreadful numbers. Finally, my novel protest registered with my teachers and as sadistic that they are, conveniently informed my hot-tempered dad. At home, my dad ensured that I get the right dosage of thrashings which did nothing but engraved the nuisance of numbers in my formative brain. I started hating numbers with the devotion only a true number-hater can. I also started hating the medium of numbers – maths teachers, maths books, log books, calenders and even watches with numbers in the dial.

My maths teachers also diligently reciprocated the feelings I had for them. I took it upon me to be the vigilante fighting the evil of numbers. Not that I walk around in a cape or with a gun to shoot down maths professors, but I am extra careful to walk away from them with a knowledgeable smile. A smile is the greatest weapon in literary circles since it gives you a smug appearance of the the all-knowing ‘buddha’. And people avoid you like the plague lest you make them look stupid with your ‘buddha-power’. But the smile and ‘buddha-power’ is a different story.

By the way I realized that there is professional help available to deal with arithmophobia not that I am going to try it yet. I think I enjoy hating numbers…it makes me feel so free. No need to remember birthdays or anniversaries or dates or times or anything numeric…coz there is always an excuse…I am bad with numbers!!!

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