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"I am a cursed boy. I have many names. Some call me a swine; some a rogue.... and yet others, a bastard. I swear, people have..."
More about OrphanBoy
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Schools (Other):
?
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Occupation:
Who would hire a poor orphan with rickets?
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Affiliations:
Devi Maa, Nirupa Roy (now Zombi Maa)
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Hobbies and Interests:
Dusty footpaths, pastries, stray pets, leftover chicken fat, found foods, unwatched baskets of fruit, I have not eaten in 4 days. I am interested in food.... and clothing... and and a roof over my head. The nights are so cold. Please give me work! I will prepare your meals and massage your legs! I will not accept alms. I will work!
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Favorite Books:
I can not read or write.
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Favorite Movies:
I would very much like to see a movie someday. . . but the man wouldn't give me a ticket. He took my money and threw me out saying I probably stole it... but I didn't! I worked hard for it! I am not a thief! Please! ....I can not bear to be called Thief!
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Favorite Music:
There is no music in my life..... only sadness.
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Favorite TV Shows:
I have only seen television in the window of a rich shopkeeper... but he chased me a way and beat me with a stick. He called me a thief and said he would break my legs if he ever caught me looking at his goods again.
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About Me:
I am a cursed boy. I have many names. Some call me a swine; some a rogue.... and yet others, a bastard. I swear, people have addressed me with so many names... that I have forgotten my real name. I have nobody.... nobody..... I live on the roads. Today, a rich man said, we are worms of the gutter.... who are born in the streets and die there too. I will also die here. I once had a mother... but destiny snatched her away from me!
She was run over and killed under the car of a rich man.
Now I am alone.
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Who I Want to Meet:
I want to meet Baby Shaalu, and
Madam, and and Master Raju, and I want my mother returned to me.
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Add me as your pathetic Bollywood
orphan:
FirstName: OrphanBoy
LastName: Sikandar
Friendster is so very slow. Sometimes it takes 3 to 4 days for messages to show up. MySpace.com is vastly superior.
http://profiles.myspace.com/users/3915947
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desperate enough for attention to hold
still and let me torture you!! I love
your pitiful whimpers, and the silent
tears...or perhaps mucus...that fall
from your eyes.Just remember if you
hold out for one more week I will give
you a bucket of sandy rice and a pony,
really!!
plight and finish shining my shoes.
Don't leave any scuff marks or else
I'll have my bodyguards pummel you.
Just feel lucky that a mongrel like you
even gets this much pity. Now here's a
nickel. Go, fetch.
the floors with your hair and cut the grass with
your teeth. i have made some room for you in
the pantry but you are only allowed to eat the
scraps after the dogs are threw with them.
now show your gratefulness and crawl across
broken glass to lick my toes clean.
OrphanBoy, he was sitting on the steps
of the Nietzsche Archives in Weimar,
picking at his feet. I was immediately
drawn to his radiant complexion and
wanted to comb my fingers through his
hair. Judging from the scabs on his
feet, and his runny nose, and the empty
box of Oreos beside him, I surmised
that he was in dire need of an audience
with the Brahman upstairs. OrphanBoy
exuded a mystical glow similar to that
of prepubescent Krishnamurti. I took
OrphanBoy by the hand, ascended the
three flights of steps and personally
introduced him to Nietzsche--who stared
through him. OrphanBoy seemed agitated,
not only by Nietzsche's catatonic
demeanor but by sounds of desperate
struggle coming from Nietzsche's
washroom. OrphanBoy opened the door,
revealing Krishnamurti muzzled and tied
to the commode. OrphanBoy released
Krishnamurti and, through various
street urchin shenanigans and chicanery
best left unmentioned, eventually paid
for his travel to Ojai.
If you only believed in a Western God,
a just God, a good God, you would have
never ended up starving and begging on
the streets. So, until you can accept
me and my Word, I say, suck it up, OB,
suck it up!
they hear your voice? Only the rich
have the right to beckon in this world.
The rich don't stop hearing the voice
of poor people like us.
always just a hunger-induced coma away.
the spirits in the world, eat them,
then spew their tangled guts onto
your face!
of agony!
Then I will feed you coconut souffles
and three-tiered lemon-flavored
baked Alaskas.......oh OrphanBoy! I
think I want to take an olive oil bath
with you. Your sadness resonates
with me....now how to get that
sadness to resonate with me in a
bathtub full of oil.......I want to be your
mother and your lover!