Precious Latest Commentors

Popular Posts

Total Pageviews

Blogadda

Google Page Rank

Page Rank

Follow by Email

Search This Blog

Loading...

The Answer Giver


Ten things I hate being asked are included in one question. "Why aren't you replying to me." Why are you not listening to me." When this question crops up and it does quite more than often, because my mind is trying to evade that question but the answer seeker being my better half, is hell bent to sabotage the decorum in my mind. Nothing else I hate and everything is entailed in it. Otherwise I love questions and to answer them even sincerely with my full heart. I know and answer cleverly when I hear two people talking, where one poor invester is concerned after depositing money in some instrument in a private company and the agent who has taken the deposit assuring him that nothing will happen though his boss has been jailed and may not be able to garner 10k crores to come out of jail and I enjoy chipping in and giving the answer though they both may be hating my answer. But nonetheless I enjoy giving answers.

I think I have made myself clear.

This has been inspired by a topic at indispire by Narasimha Sharma Vetturi, ten things I hate being asked.



The Changing Times

Times were fast changing. Population increasing by leaps and bounds was one very crucial factor why senators sat at these wee hours to decide upon a very serious issue facing the nation. These intelligent souls could only save the nation. They had full mandate of people and if they even failed, who could save them. All systems of transportation had failed. They had all the public transport system running so deadly packed that even ants shuddered at getting into the compartments. 

Let me give you the names of our learned comrades present. 
1) Mr.Gowkoowon,

2) Mr. Slectodas,

3) Mr. Rotricures,

4) Mrs. Sowteriani,

5) Miss. Pranitarthita.

Mr. Gowkoowon was elected to preside over the meeting and he began the address clearing his throat.

"Dear Fellow members,
As we are all aware, whatever we build gets smaller for the purpose as the population is increasing at a lot more faster pace than our building of things. We had the vision to legalize the sitting on roof tops of trains and buses. The only small place left below them too had been altered cleverly with iron handles which our tough bodybuilders could catch hold of in sleeping posture and travel to their desired destinations

We are all gathered here today not for these issues, because we already have a comittee searching for answers under the head of one of our very own illustrous qualified member, Mrs. Sowteriani, and no doubt she is doing a commendable job. I must remind you all that utilization of space under the train compartments was her idea only that  now the multifarious task of commuting as well as bodybuilding is being achieved.

We have been confronted with another alarming issue that has been neglected by us and we do not have any comittee for it as yet. "FOUL SMELL" . 

Yes, smell is a serious concern because it has been pointed out by none other, our very own member, miss.Pranitarthita ji. She has brought our attention to this growing menace as her own boyfriend who had commuted from Virar junction via the bodybuilding module under the train, was smelling awfully with prespiration and though she had yearned to be in his arms, she had to just mutter some expletives and leave, breaking up from him. 

I see Mr. Selectodas raising his hand to speak his mind. I will give the opportunity, but let me finish first. I know what you want to say sir, because I have seen you to be on a disagreement on each and every proposal of her. God knows if she proposes to you, you will disagree to that even. I urge to put personal malices aside and do form a comittee under the tagline "Remove The Smell" under the able head of none other our miss Pranitarthita ji. Now I will ask miss Pranitarthita ji to enlighten us on her findings."


Miss Pranitarthita took out a fat file and opening it began reading from it. She started undeterred by the murmurings of Mr. Selectodas, "will she recite the full bloody file now., I am doomed"

She began, "I broke up, yes!!!, you all heard me correctly, and the reason behind this was just foul irritating smell. The severity of this issue can be seen in the fact that my boyfriend has not eaten a morsel since our break up and has threatened self immolation infront of our very parliament. We have reached a sad state where people are condemned, for smelling. Can we not find a permanent solution to this menace. A company had launched a cream to administer upon body and travel. This cream proved to be a farce, as we all saw. Nothing could match a hot refreshing bath. I had a talk with Mr. Rotricures and he suggested Racold Bath Points at every 100 meters across nation. He has been generous enough to offer a fund of one billion from his National Reahabilation Fund for this great auspicious cause.

Everyone found the opportunity of closing the tenuous speech by immediately starting the thumping upon table by hand and Mr. Rotricures beaming in the pride of utilizing Government money on the right track. 

Having served it's purpose the meeting was adjourned for the day and Miss.Pranitarthita closed the file and all our brave comrades left with utter satisfaction upon their faces.

This post has been inspired by a contest at indiblogger by Racold.










The New Entrant

The cabin was smelling like hell. The bacterias in the sweat on skin had started fermenting and the horrendous odour was swaying in all directions encapsulating anything it could lay it's hands upon. The person emitting the scent was wholly engrossed in his work, all unknown to the heavy ciorse in the atmosphere sorrounding it, that had been slowly forming. 

The new entrant into office was a timid but intelligent bloke and all old sleuths were eyeing on his first day reactions. The full office was at pindrop silence module and all movements were curt and disciplined. Mr. Sharma had purposely asked the new entrant to bring the file of Mr. Surana from the cabin of Gadgor Babu and the new entrant slowly moved towards the cabin. Everyone held their breath as the new entrant knocked at the cabin gate and entered the smelling dungeon. 

Everyone had expected a loud shriek  and panicked exit of new entrant from the cabin of Gadgor babu, but five minutes had elapsed and no sound emerged and the curiosity of everyone grew up to bursting extent. Mishra ji whispered to anxious Sharma ji, "I only hope he is still alive. Poor fellow, this was his first job experience, and look what you did to him."

Sharma ji defending himself, "I really needed the file Mishra, and one day he had to face it, so why not today itself."

Sweety chipped in, "It is really preposterous coldblooded stab Sharma, I still remember the first entry of yours into the room of Gadgor Babu."

Mishra chuckled in hush hush manner.

Sharma feeling the brunt of being attacked, "I had remained one full minute in the room and brought the file......"

Gulguli devi smirked cutting sharma short,"with full vomit upon it."

Sharma showing burning eyes at Gulguli devi,"how can I forget, you had asked me to get that good for nothing file."

A serene smile of satisfaction danced upon the lips of Gulguli devi.

Mishra trying to make truce,"let bygone be bygones and see the current task at hand. I fear something dreadful going within."

Gulguli devi keeping track of time announced,"ten minutes have elapsed and no sound from Gadgor babu's cabin. Sharma ji, open the cabin door and checkout."

Sharma ji mincing upon his words, "what, me!!, no way, why don't you go Gulguli ji."

Gulguli devi agitatedly, "why should I.? You sent him to bring a good for nothing file just to torture poor fellow. It is your responsibility and mind you, if the poor guy chokes   upon his breath, which I am dead sure now, it will be entirely upon your conscience."

Sharma rebukingly, "and where was your conscience Gulguli, when you had asked me so lovingly to bring in the dead file, upon which I had puked all over."

Mishra ji trying to pacify the two, "come on, no fighting over this, we wait for another five minutes, then we all will go into Gadgor babu's cabin and bring out our new entrant."

In these five minutes allow me to give some breif about our New Entrant as fast as I can. Weirdest of smells had failed to deter the New Entrant as he had the privileged stay in hostel where people seldom bathed and had no pocketmoney to spend on expensive deodorants. His all 400 receptors of odour in nostrils had thrown in the towel long ago. He could stay in room with his fellow students with stink bombs blasted all over just to keep teachers away from class. Little did he know then that this invaluable stink resistance quality was going to earn him a respected place in the company in later stages of his life. 

Five minutes had gone by and all the crew moved towards the cabin of Gadgor babu with perfume dipped handkercheif strongly tied around their nostrils. Sharma opened the cabin gate slightly, took a quick peek inside and shut the gate reverting into severe coughing and choking hysteric bouts. Mishra supported the falling sharma and slowly staggered towards his chair. Sharma after regaining some breath and removing the handkerchief from the nose muttered,"Ohh my Gosh ! Unbelievable, How the hell is it possible"

Gulguli Devi getting closer to Sharma, "what did you see Sharma ji that your face has turned dead white. Has our New Entrant collapsed."

Sharma serenely adjusting his bifocals looked at Gulguli devi and burst out a long sigh. 

Mishra getting impatient, "do not play on our patience Sharma ji, say fast."

Vicious smile ran on Sharma's lips. Enjoying the air in the atmosphere Sharma gave the verdict,"Gadgor babu has found an underwear friend in our New Entrant I presume, the way they were laughing and chatting. We all are doomed as this New Entrant now may get above us in rank and we the old sleuths will all have to obey the orders of this good for nothing New Entrant. 

Gulguli Devi chirped,"Sharma ji, you better brace your nose up as he will take revenge on you and order you to bring files from Gadgor babu's room every now and then. 

Sharma getting paled by the blow mumbled, "well, I will quit rather die an unnatural death."

Mishra trying to console Sharma ji, "You had selected the New Entrant into the company and he would certainly remember your generosity."

Gulguli Devi putting all blame on Sharma ji,"How could you not sense his smell proof nose, and put us in this peril."

Suddenly two people entered the office with Racold geyser and inquired the location of Gadgor babu's cabin and before Sharma & team could understand anything what was going on, the two had done their act and left the office. 

The cabin door opened and New Entrant was seen walking towards the group with smile dancing upon his lips. Behind him in tow was Gadgor babu, beaming with the freshness of Racold bath. Sharma & team got the shock of their lives. They had always seen Gadgor babu with amplest of distance they could muster and with handkercheif always stuck to their noses. 

The New Entrant had become the Company Hero on the first very day of his job start up. Everyone had only one thought, "why didn't they think of this remedy themselves."

This post has been inspired by a contest at indiblogger by Racold






Rio De La Sciocco

Name :Rio De La Sciocco

Alias.  : The Fool King,

Yes, my self Rio De La Sciocco, neck deep immersed in the foolish things. The name reminds me of a scientific pattern of olden days, where first name was given name by parents and the title corresponded to the name of town they came from, or to the type of trade they belonged. Someone from fatehpur would get a title fatehpuria, or a person belonging to jewellary trade would be called Sarraf etc. etc.

Now this name means a lot to me as it has all my traits inbuilt and I am always comfortable with it. 

If I go by this logic that the one who knows he is a fool is the one only clever, then you you all can understand what I am driving you all at. 

This is inspired by a topic, by Narasimha Sharma Vetturi, at indispire, #WhatsInAName

The Champier Tree


This dates back to those golden days, of mine, whence I had buzzed with the sizzling zeal and vigor, bursting with the newly acquired honor's degree and all ready to set foot firmly in to the beaming industry, that beckoned me to prove my steely mettle. 

"May I come in Sir."  I had said jubilantly, entering the chamber of my would be boss. The unbearable stench in the room stopped my flow in an instant and automatically my hand went in to my pocket in a reflex action to bring out the handkerchief, but before I brought it out upon the nose, my mind cautioned me wisely to stay put and bear the stench as any rebuking behavior would deprive me of the opportunity of getting the job.

The deeply thinking mind bewildered as to why this man sat in stinking room with nothing upon his nose, little did it know that the stinker's nose always enjoyed the smell released by it's own owner,  
only the people nearby them had to bear the hell. 

Suddenly the t.v. advertisement involving Hari Sadu danced upon the mind and taking cue from it, my mind thought it better to give the stinking man the stink he deserved.

"I see the cold wave has deterred strong people to skip hot hot baths now a days, no matter how rotten they smell, and you smell terribly well sir," thus saying cannily I had taken my seat bluntly.

"Please leave the room," was what I had expected to hear and that was really what I heard and feeling pleased with myself I had taken out my handkerchief, putting it benevolently upon my nose, I had left the room as hurriedly as I could and had taken solace in a nearby coffee shop. 

Sipping slowly upon the coffee I had called upon the famed job provider to arrange for an interview in another company for me, and I was dead sure they would give me at least 10 top notch companies to choose with such a great resume like mine and the talk that led further just shattered all my smelly notions, and deflated the air in the balloon I had been high flying with no brakes insight.

"Rio, I had been waiting impatiently for your call and so honored I am to be at your service, sir," the man on the other side of the line had jested, which I had taken as a compliment and had a great booster effect after that horrible smelly encounter.

I had replied with serene calm of a lamb, chewing upon my words slowly, "Thank you, for such high estimation of me, I am just a small pebble at your feet, sir,"

The words that had come up next had taken away all the stink in my head. I can't even remember why I had not cut off the phone, may be I had been just struck dumb, letting the heavy rotten words scavenge upon the already dying brain cells.

"Sir, the best job I can think of for you is for a tree named Champier at municipal garden. I have gone through your interview video clip that was uploaded at you tube some minutes earlier, where you had serenely rebuked the company head of smelling rot. FYI, I am the Hari Sadu, you rotten nuts named, by atrocious names and the first thing I did was takeover the bloody company to set all you good for nothing fellows straight. The boss works late nights to achieve targets of the company and forgoes the daily refreshing bath even just for the sake of company growth and if your nose cannot tolerate the bloody smell, go sit under the Champier tree and give your nostrils the smell they deserve, day in, day out. There is no place in the industry for sensitive nosy guys like you. Here, tough people who are ready to forget the hot Raccold bath, and merge in to the smelling arena can only rise, and rise  in to the heavenly abode."

My trance had been broken by the bill by the waiter, and I had proceeded towards the champier tree at municipal garden. 

Since then to this very day the Champier tree has been my boss and I sit there under it at times of heavy pressures and as I write this post, I can feel the smile upon my boss's face.

This post has been inspired by and written for a contest topic at indiblogger.





Grand mother Sayeth



I remember my grandmother very well, though I lost her at a tender age, but as I remember the immense love and care she bestowed upon me, tears well up in my eyes. She fought vehemently with my mother if she scolded me slightly even, and I always took refuge in my caring old granny on troubling issues. 

One such occasion I remember I was very disturbed. My ball was missing and I couldn't find it anywhere. This was a new ball I had purchased just a day ago and I searched everywhere for it and couldn't find it. I knew asking my dad for money for new ball was no use. I asked granny what should I do and granny said have faith in God, and sit down in prayer hall silently, reciting his name in your mind, and when you receive an inspiration as to where to look for your ball, get up and search there. I had full faith in my granny so I went in the prayer hall and sat down with closed eyes and started reciting god's name in my mind. After some recitations, it suddenly dawned upon me to search at the northern most corner on the roof of my house.

I got up and headed straight to the roof towards the area I had the intuition. There lay my ball beckoning me. Since then my faith in the name of god took a deep root in my heart and though my granny is no more, I always remember her golden words. 

This has been inspired by a topic at indispire, by Saket,  Describe how a story told by your granny influenced your life#the story, 

My Dream Library

M iraculous
Y outhful

D istractive
R eflective
E verpresent
A mple
M odest

L avish
I mpressive
B eautiful
R avishing
A ttractive
R adiant
Y appy

I hope I have done justice to my library by coining these attributes to it. Many attributes I missed, friends can add them for me by commenting lavishly. A library is a world in itself, and with the advent of latest gadgets, a whole library can be carried on an electronic device, but I like the old way, flipping pages, slowly digesting the words in the mind, because I am a born bookworm.

This post is inspired by topic at indiblogger, 

What would your dream library look like?#dreamlibrary



The Extra Mile

My mind was in a state of doldrums. The world stood still for me. The time wasn't moving an inch. I knew very well, this very time that was moving sluggishly like hell would start flying and I would have tough time controlling it's flight.

It happened just as I had anticipated.     Decision had been taken and I immediately sprung into action. The watch started mocking at me. I hurriedly put in some clothes in the bag, picked up my wallet, laptop and hurried out to catch a cab. 

I had wasted time literally, in deciding the road to take. The crossroads of life that forked away into the abyss, haunted upon the mind. It was a very hard decision and I had made up mind to the haunting question,"How far could I go, for my love." Yes, I could go as far as far could be, even if it led to a point of no return, and as the cab entered the airport area, I was all ready to jump out and hasten at the British Airways counter to get the first available flight to London. 

I had taken this step after much deliberate thinking, weighing in all the factors, and this step had been so heavily chained to the ground with the expectations of relatives and family that it needed immense gut and strength to break free and then judiciously sticking with my decision with full heart and soul. There could not be any part commitments. Either I was in, or I was out, and I had decided.

The long line at the British Airways counter gave a pang in my heart. The only consolation was that line was moving a tad fast but I was in real goddamn hurry, and the old man at the back of me was pushing his whole weight on me deliberately. Some how the ordeal lasted and I succeeded in my getting the first hurdle towards going farther towards my darling love. I had taken the leap in to the oblivion of love.

After all the tenuous wait, at last I had boarded the plane and seeing the nasty old man I had encountered earlier, eyeing me with hungry eyes and I knew instantly I had no respite but to bear the hell during the 5 hours of the flight. Little did I know at that time that this nasty little man was going to be another tedious feather that would be making me reconsider my step towards the Love of my love life. 
Many people say very easily, "I will jump off the building if you say so, my love" or "I will bring the stars at your feet, my darling." But these are just token words. Nobody says "I will tolerate your Mom & Dad's presence all the time and do all the errands as they order me to do." 

I had plunged in to the den of Love, and now nothing was going to stop my unending crusade to achieve my end. 

This man was all the more eager to start the chat, as I was trying to surf the program on the t.v. screen in front of me, trying my level best to ignore the old man. 

He didn't waste time in prelims, and started casually, "Rio, my boy, I see you are all tensed up dude."

I gaped at him, how in the God's name did he know my name, but thinking he stood at back of me in the line, so he must have overheard me. 

"And what your good name is Sir?" I somehow blurted.

This was enough to start the engine of the old man.

"My wife lovingly calls me Fatso, but my daughter calls me pop." Beaming with pride, he disclosed.

Now I couldn't call him Fatso nor pop, and as I was thinking of appropriate question, Fatso began his mission torment, "you look pretty much disturbed, son, as if on a very crucial mission of your life."

I knew I was disturbed, and this nasty looking man was all the more disturbing, but What could I do to stop the nasty blabber. This man called me son as well, I wondered why. My mind contemplated, among all weird happenings, was he by any freak chance of bad luck my Father In  Law, and I brushed aside the thought as just impossible and concentrated on his talk.

"Where are you lost, son." Fatso chirped again

How dearly I wanted to strangulate this man, but..alas...

"How far can you go to for your love" Son, he again bombarded a question, as if I was going to marry his daughter, but this gave me the ground to start my rhetoric.

"I can kill and get killed, if that can satisfy you, old man." I said and tried to concentrate on programme surfing. 

Little did I know then that he was my Father In Law to be, and he had been stalking on me for the love of his daughter. He had been following me, and sitting arrangement too he had managed next to me by request to the British Airways staff. 

My ordeal that pursued later could lead to a full novel of the horrifying tale, so I put down the pen, with the memories of the past as past ones and now that I am in the middle of the ocean facing different weathers and rowing the boat of married life with my love by my side, and the most apt thing I can think of to say is, "the courage to go the extra mile, where others throw in the towel," I will always go, for my Love.

This has been inspired by and written for a contest at indiblogger, here is their link to see their video click here below



The Survivor Concluding Part.

Mind just clung to the sight. The Gold shop was open with no owner and all the precious jewellary danced before my eyes. I knew they were of no value now. Only Water, Food, and fresh air were the need of the hour.

I looked over at the grocery store to see if something was there. I knew very well I had to keep myself on the move, with plenty of water. I saw a carton full of bottled water and I opened up one bottle and put just a drop of it on my tongue to get the feel of it. It tasted good, so one full bottle went in, in a single gulp. Then I ventured further and seeing some nicely packed biscuits, I didn't hesitate in trying one. It tasted great. I knew now all packed goods could be had now. Seeing my stomac eyeing the cadbury chocolate bar, and craving for it, I let it satisfy itself merrily. 

Having had my fill, I sat down in meditation. I had to still the mind and carefully decide on my course of action. The conveyance, the destination, the food, water, etc. etc.

Destination was decided: LasVegas,

Conveyance mode: to look for airplane, check fuel, fly away.

Food and water, as much I could carry.

I got up and looked for some stray truck and finding one, just hopped in like Rambo, and rode off. 

I knew if I had to start a new era I had to reach Lasvegas as fast as I could, because that was the only place where I could find the eve. If one would have survived the holocaust. 

In no time I reached the airport, and seeing the  empty lobby, I left the truck and moved hurriedly towards the aeroplanes. I had no restictions, and the sky, the earth, all were mine. I was sole owner left. Nobody could give me speeding tickets, and seeing a nice plane, I wasted no time starting the engine and skiing off the runway. Catching on to speed I pulled the lever and now I was airborne. 

I was flying westwards and the sky was fully empty with no congestion in the sky. I was the sole flyer. Leaving the plane in auto pilot mode for a while, and dozed off while flying. I badly needed some sleep. After some hours I woke up all refreshed. Another five hours were to go for me to reach my destination.

Friends may be thinking "How  much more can we take". Well, I will try to be more concise and reach Lasvegas faster. Here I was, in Lasvegas streets searching frantically for just one female survivor who could partner with me to start a new era on earth, "The Rio Era" and an amazing incident happened....,

No friends, I will not carry this to the third part. I found the stunning gal basking in the sun, a little worried and the joy we both had seeing each other is just beyond any words. 

The Rio Era had begun...,





The Bather

Smell, reminded me of many memories. My thoughts reverted back to the news I had read some years ago. Dubai, yes, it was a man from Dubai. He had been so particular in cleanliness that he used to bathe seven times in a day in a water starved city. His dear wife was fed up of his cleanliness drive and they used to have fights over it every now and then, and one fine day the fight led the clean little man to vow. He vowed that he would never bathe again.

This is a real happening friends and I had read of it in newspapers then. The salient feature that resulted in his life was that within two years his wife had filed a court suit on our little poor fellow for a Divorce, unable to bear his stench.

This had happened for real and I mused, could this be applicable here as well. Will it work in Indian scene. Mind lay puzzled. Thoughts imagining the worst as if saying, never give it a thought. You know the  aim of your beloved, one hit and all of your gimmicks would dissolve in the thin air.

I knew my mind was my best companion, leading me through the thick and thin of life impeccably.

Again it had successfully thwarted my severe fall in the ditch. 

This has been inspired by and written for a contest at indiblogger, 

Close Encounters of the Smelly Kind. 

https://www.facebook.com/racoldthermoltd

The Survivor Part 1,



This tale is a long one friends, and there isn't any option but to let it comeup in parts. I will be trying my level best to concise it as much I can within the scope of my limited word bank.

I was in samadhi, and my mind could see each and every living being embracing death. None could escape the poison in the air. I knew it will take atleast one month for the energies of the sun to make the air free of the nasty poison. I lay still, breathing nothing, all controlled in equillibrium state.

In no time one month had elapsed and I slowly opened my eyes and inhaled the fresh soothing air into the lungs, activating the idle organs of the body, all rejuvenated by the rest.

I was the last survivor, and only if I could find one eve, I could be the originator of another era. But, how, and where, these questions ran amock  in my mind.

Then thoughts reverted on to food. Stomac had sent in distress signals to the brain to pacify itself. But my mind was busy on the thoughts of starting a new world. Stomac succeeded in diverting the attention of mind on to itself. I got up and cautiously started on my search for operation "feeding the stomac". I knew the food too may be poisoned due to the air and I had to devise proper method to clear it from the poison before it's lodging into the tummy. I told my mind not to disturb me with the unnecessary tantrums of intestines, as it may take days in the process.

Tongue too had started signalling need for water. 

I slowly walked towards the market to look for bottled water. I was unsure of edibility of open water. The mind all jumbled up on string of multitude of thoughts. The road ahead was full of new tests and retests. I was witnessing this in person and I was determined to find ways. If I could survive the ultimate holocaust, I could survive further, only if I didn't do any silly mistake.

My mind took a jolt as I reached the market. The silence of the market was deafening. There was a time when the heavy clitter clatter of market deafened the mind. I had never thought silence too could have  worse deafening impact up on the mind.

Suddenly my mind took a jolt and stood still, completely mesmerized...,

To be continued...,

This has been inspired by a topic at indispire, 

How would you survive if you are the last person in the world ?







   

A Tryst With Past Life Part 6,

Before I could say something, Sukar da, started his rhetoric.
I always looked for an opportunity for a revenge but my little mind never thought that my beloved daughter was at your home now. I came to know you wanted 5 lac rupees for something very important. I connived to see that you couldn't get the money from the market. I was very much pleased to see you at my doorstep. I took it as an opportunity to exploit the God given opportunity. I did not take the courtesy to ask even, why you needed the money. I arranged the money for you but you had to mortgage your house to me. I have no words for all my misdeeds. 

I found you outside the hospital near the tea shop walking hastily that I interrupted you, saying this unable to contain himself Sukar da burst out into crying hysterics. 

I was perplexed. What more was he going to disclose. This was happening worse than the films could portray. 

My daughter died that day during the major operation, and you too couldn't bear the shock and alas, there lay two dead bodies for me to carry upon my shoulders. 

Saying these words Sukar da started crying profusely. 
That very moment my dear wife had woken me up and instantly I had started jotting it down on paper. Having written down the full dream word by word, I called upon my darling wife. "Gorma gorom cha aano, chandrbhaga, tumake aajke aami nijer haathe cha khawabo."
(Bring hot hot tea, chandrabhaga , today you will be drinking tea from my very own hands.)

Then we both will be going to visit house no. 157 at haathi bagan today itself.

Concluded.




- Copyright © My Musings - Skyblue - Powered by Blogger - Designed by Johanes Djogan -