In an intellectually redundant part of the world, was an irrelevant neighborhood, where once lived a man known as Basheer. Basheer was quiet, slow and honest. He never bothered the pesky little neighborhood children, nor the pesky little neighborhood men. He never bothered the pesky little neighborhood women either, or any woman for that matter, which is why the general opinion of Basheer was that of an effeminate. In short, he was peaceful, boring and harmless. What the people didn’t know was that Basheer was indifferent. Not the kind of indifferent you and I are towards a particular brand of toothpaste or a movie that’s playing at a local cinema or a parent perhaps. No. Basheer’s problem was worse, probably the worst the world had ever seen. He just didn’t care. He didn’t care if he had parents, or if his hair needed to be cut. He didn’t care about the rising fuel prices, of if he had a stable job. Heck he didn’t even care for a woman in his life, or a man, a child, a doll or a pet for that matter. Basheer knew it well. He had been trying for years to do something about it, but in vain. Which brings us to the night of June 23rd when he finally decided it was time. He stayed up all night, making plans, brewing up ideas, reading books and searching the internet, trying to find the best possible way for him not to be indifferent until finally in a sleep induced state fueled by homemade tea and 15 minutes of senseless American porn he stumbled upon his big idea. He thought about it for a few minutes, smiled and went to bed.
The next morning, Basheer gave the local market a visit. He got a hammer, a chisel and a basket from the hardware store that he never knew existed. Even more puzzling was how the man at the counter greeted him with a “Hello Basheer Sahib, fancy seeing u here.” But such details were not to be bothered with. Basheer was on a mission. And he had no time to lose. He returned to his house in haste and started working. He drew a circle on the outer wall of his house and began hammering at it. Pretty soon there was a hole in the wall, the size of a man’s head. The pesky little people from the neighborhood watched from their windows not sure what this little man was up to. Some complained about the noise, some joked about how Basheer had finally lost it. Some even assumed this was Basheer’s way of dealing with the lack of sexual activity his fragile little figure had experienced throughout the years. But Basheer went on, like he always did, smiling, thinking and hammering at his wall as if it were a piece of art. Once the hole was big enough Basheer reached for something in his tool box. He fished out a piece of card and a pen and wrote something on it. He then put the card on the wall as if it were a sign and looked at his accomplishment one final time. The smirk on his face showed he was pleased. He took a few moments to gather his tools and clear the rubble scattered on his porch and then went inside. By this time, everyone in the neighborhood was exploding with curiosity. They rushed towards Basheer’s house, pushing, shoving and screaming. Women and children were left behind. In a few minutes the whole neighborhood had gathered in the form of a crowd on Basheer’s porch. And they seemed pleased. Talking excitedly amongst themselves, cheering, laughing, celebrating. They had a reason to. The sign on the wall, right above the hole said….
“Give ‘fucks’ here”.
Inside his house Basheer waited. He had put the basket directly below the hole. The idea was simple. As people gave their fucks in the hole, Basheer would collect them and pretty soon he would have enough fucks to give about the world. They wouldn’t be his fucks…but they were fucks alright, and this way, he thought, he would finally be able to cure his general state of long time indifference.
As stupid as it may sound, the idea was a stroke of genius. It was something people had been waiting for their entire lives. It started from the neighborhood at first. Mothers came and gave a fuck about their duck faced daughters and their lack of self-esteem. Daughters came and gave fucks about how their mothers were embarrassingly conventional and needed to “get out” more and “fly”. Men came and gave fucks about their jobs, their wives and their performance issues. Boys gave a fuck about keeping up with the swag-fest the world was going through. In short everyone had a fuck to give. All this time, Basheer waited, smiled and watched as his basket started filling up. He sipped his favorite kind of homemade tea and watched as tens and twenties of fucks tagged with people’s names came rolling down the hole. News travelled fast and pretty soon the whole city knew. People excitedly rushed towards Basheer’s house. The shopkeepers, the businessmen, the cobblers and the marketers. Students came giving a fuck about their education and their bleak futures. Some teachers gave fucks about their students too. Some gave fucks about the dying rock music scene while others refused to do so. The media gave a fuck. News channels went crazy and pretty soon, the whole country knew. Basheer however waited and smiled and watched. He still had a long way to go.
The internet went crazy. Conspiracy theories started popping up about a mysterious hole in an intellectually redundant part of the world that swallowed people’s concerns and worries. Some started Facebook focused protests about how this was the eye of the devil. Some called it the end of the world. Junkie geeks labeled it as the black hole of human conscience. In some parts of the country, enthusiasts came out on the streets celebrating the arrival of an “ear” that listened to everything only to be met and attacked by other groups who condemned Basheer’s hole and tagged it as unholy, blasphemous and sinful altogether. Twitter trends were another interesting story as pseudo intellectuals tweeted senselessly about how important the hole was for the world and how the man behind it should be given the Person of the year award.
Thanks to the buzz, people from all around the world got a whiff of the “hole” too. Groups from different parts of the world came rushing in, all overwhelmingly eager to give a fuck. Chinese gave a fuck about their driving. Japanese gave fucks about making cars and building robots to make more cars. The British gave a fuck about trying to win a cricket world cup while some gave bigger fucks about football. The hole listened to all and took every single fuck that was thrown its way.
As things got hotter, the “hole” started attracting big names. Politicians, sportsmen and movie stars. There were the Twilite stars and the Harry Potter stars and what not. As expected they were followed by millions who came giving fucks about them. To everyone’s surprise, even Eminem gave a fuck.
Thousands came, giving fucks about religion, the existence of god, science, morality and ethics. Some gave fucks about the ethicality of cloning while others gave a fuck about experimenting on animals. Thousands gave fucks about global warming. The world went crazy when news arrived that someone had given a fuck about the Kardashians too. That, however, was revealed to be a hoax later.
In a matter of months, the whole world was taken over by the introduction of a simple concept. Everybody had a fuck to give, and this place was their temple. Some business school jerks even tried replicating the idea and charging for it, only to be sued by other business school jerks that had done the same. But the popularity and significance of the hole kept growing like wildfire fueled by pure oxygen. Basheer however was still locked up inside his house. Despite recieving thousands of calls and emails he refused to show his face to the world. There were thousands of propositions being thrown his way. From reality TV producers to movie directors to marketing gurus and ghost writers. But Basheer wouldn’t budge. He even refused to respond to lucrative marriage propositions by pop queens and movie stars. Some analysts claimed that this too like all other fads would eventually fade away and be forgotten. But there was no stopping it. People kept coming and kept giving a fuck and the hole did what it was known for. It took their fucks and swallowed them. Soon Basheer’s basket was ful. So were his living room, kitchen, bathrooms and bedroom. With fucks of every size, shape and nature. He didn’t even bother organizing them. He just watched and smiled and waited for more.
Then, the unexpected happened. After several months of constant fuckgivings, the world started running out of fucks to give. What no one had thought of was the one thing Basheer had always had in his mind. The more fucks you gave to the hole, the lesser fucks you were left with. Soon, everyone went broke on fucks. A mass panic spread all over the world as people senselessly searched for fucks to give. Chaos broke out. Companies stopped branding their products. Musicians stopped making music. Cinemas went out of business and malls were deserted. Traffic signals didn’t matter anymore and the police didn’t care. Families were torn apart. Relationships destroyed. Wars were fought and soldiers didn’t fight. The farmers stopped working and food went scarce. The basic concept of a society shattered into a million pieces and the world was suddenly populated by millions of unbothered, unconcerned walking shadows of what were once men and women. Fashion became a myth and personal hygiene was forgotten altogether. People walked around naked, hungry and confused. There were no rapes, no robberies, no victims of anything. Everyone had but one thing on their mind. To find a fuck to give.
Inside his house Basheer sat in his favorite arm chair, staring at the tv. He had a cruel grin on his face. A few channels, who were being run by people who had refused to let the hole take their fucks were constantly reporting the bleak crisis that had hit the world and issuing notices and help messages for survivors. Basheer watched for hours and kept grinning. It was time for Phase 2.
Basheer spent the next few days collecting the millions of fucks that were spread all over his small house. He would gather them up and stuff them brown bags that he got from the grocery store, labeling them as he did so. It took him around 2 weeks to pick up every single fuck off of his floor. The world outside kept worsening as everything fell into an apparently never ending state of ignorance. But Basheer kept working and by the third week he was ready. For the first time in several months he opened his door and stepped outside. A strange humid cloud of stench hit him in the face, but he didn’t bother to stop and investigate what it was or where it was coming from. He went straight to the hole and tore off the famous sign. In its place he put up a shiny new one and hurried back inside. Within seconds, the sign had gathered people’s attention and they ran towards it like hungry animals. Women and children were left behind. The new sign read…
“Buy ‘Fucks’ here.”
Basheer died a few years later. He was titled the richest man ever to live on planet earth.