Wednesday, 28 September 2016

T(h)ings

Decked in my finest, me a finery sporting fop, and yet my picture for 'adhaar card' makes me look like a black widow readying lethal food for her unassuming sixth husband.
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How does it happen each time that I'm peeling a juicy fat stem of ginger, its burning juices fly in a trajectory carefully aimed for my eyes and leave me hissing and writhing in discomfort.
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So many dishes did I wash today, that my fingers turned to raisins, and my nails lost their buff sheen.
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Dried figs and apricots are a probably my eighth sin. Thinking of putting an alarm before snacking on them, so that I know when to stop.
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My mind engendered with a ripe drawing idea. Alas, I find myself in an environment most unsuited for endeavors that require a bit of isolation.
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More..soon.

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