Sunday, September 18, 2011.
I sometimes
wonder why these Sunday evenings have to be so tedious. Feeling neurotic. All
the melancholic memories resurface every time I witness a lonesome Sunday
evening.
I remembered
somebody’s saying, ” You don’t matter for me.”
“Maybe that’s
why you wanted me to know that I don’t matter for you.” – My reply was followed
by a thudding sound. Really, these earpieces of landline phones suffer a lot.
I look out of
the window. I see mountain silhouettes glistening in silvery sunshine. Soon the
ambience becomes vivid and starts coloring my mind too. The horizon is set
alight by the time…
I found my
cell phone was ringing when the thoughts about my incomplete assignments
started horrifying me. It was Tushar talking about the same. Assignments. I
felt little relaxed when he declared he did none of the assignments. And I felt
little more soothing when I was in canteen with an amusing taste of sweet,
milky tea.
To elevate
the mood, I called up bai and asked how everyone at home was doing. Till I got
back into pace, boys called me up and again I landed in the canteen. Relishing
tasty pakodas prove one of the best anti-depressants. And being with friends
proves one the best self-actualizing technique.
So that was
it. The story of a Sunday.
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