An existential crisis
While closing all the tabs of the browser, he felt it, he felt a sudden surge of unexplainable pain. He was suddenly sad. So sad that his fuses in the tiny little head of his were going off one by one, and he could feel it. There goes another, Boom, as my protagonist is left bemused at what he should do.
He is sitting on his chair, staring at the LCD screen(yes, he had not moved on to LED like the rest of the world, as of yet) as one by one all his thoughts were being erased in seconds and he was left scrambling for his own thoughts. A minute later his brain was empty, all the thoughts that he had, starting from Batman v Superman to the aloor tarkari in the breakfast to the fact that he had to fix his cycle and even his 1 second long wish of cleaning up his room. All gone in a matter of seconds. Even his wish list for illicit adult material which might irk the government(porn, you dumbass) was gone. He was left rambling for thoughts, yet he was calm. He did not want to go and look for his thoughts. He was okay, okay to just be like that, having no recollection of what he was thinking. He was relieved . He had finally been able to stop the voices, the voices which forced him, coaxed him and manipulated him to think.
You see, my protagonist was a loner, he was an unsocial. He did not like the outside world or its inhabitants as he had his own world populated with its own inhabitants. But these inhabitants had become disturbing, these miscreants had been hurting the host, starting to make him think of things constantly and putting pressure on his mental faculties forcing him on the verge of breaking down , yet at the final moment saving the host of its misery as without it the thoughts would have no home. So these juvenile thrill seeking thoughts and ideas used to play with the emotions of the host like outdoorsy extroverts, the only difference was that in this case the adventure was suicidal tendencies.
So my protagonist was actually happy and quite relieved to get rid of these thoughts , he stood up , left his chair and walked towards that door. Before venturing out into the world as a newly stabilized man he thought it would be good to have some “ chanachur “ on the way out. This chanachur was not of mukhorochok, the one our protagonist liked, but this was a combination of Ujjwala and some loose variety . He put it in his mouth. And before he even knew it, his thoughts were back, cursing the makers of the counterpart that ruined the taste of Ujjwala’s chanachur.