waiting for my rocket to come
I cannot fathom why patients willingly bequeath their lives to my mother when she frankly cannot switch off a computer without going into a panic stupor, “WHY ISN’T THE SCREEN GOING BLANK?” My mother is stuck in an era of black and white television, naans and sarees she doesn’t know how to tie.
The Sister has been getting increasingly annoying lately after she got admitted into the Land Of Geeks. This is her validation of being Einstein like though we all know the closest she will get to similarity is the bad hair. She is like Jason Fox, albeit lot less aodrable and a helluva lot irritating. Next thing, she will be reciting Pi in my face, and I swear then I will punch her because even as of now, I can’t do Maths without my medication.
Meanwhile, there is to be no balls in my life, atleast temporarily, and the spastic occasions which accompanied - Tarzan bus rides, stuffing heads into seat cases, all our technical errors, oblivious lane marshalls who look everywhere except for at you and a million other things. None of this will actually sink in until my empty Fridays yawn upon me, and instead of the usual chaos I will have to stick my head into miles and miles of notes on why Fleming needed a better past time.
The Sister has been getting increasingly annoying lately after she got admitted into the Land Of Geeks. This is her validation of being Einstein like though we all know the closest she will get to similarity is the bad hair. She is like Jason Fox, albeit lot less aodrable and a helluva lot irritating. Next thing, she will be reciting Pi in my face, and I swear then I will punch her because even as of now, I can’t do Maths without my medication.
Meanwhile, there is to be no balls in my life, atleast temporarily, and the spastic occasions which accompanied - Tarzan bus rides, stuffing heads into seat cases, all our technical errors, oblivious lane marshalls who look everywhere except for at you and a million other things. None of this will actually sink in until my empty Fridays yawn upon me, and instead of the usual chaos I will have to stick my head into miles and miles of notes on why Fleming needed a better past time.