There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest was very welcome. I loved to sleep. I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon. The pastor, in fact, would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The on...
“ Will you walk a little faster,” said the Whiting to the Snail. “There’s a Porpoise close behind and he is treading on my tail.” “My speedometer is showing I’m going at full speed,” gasped the Snail. “There must be some problem with your speedometer!” exclaimed the Whiting. “Nothing is wrong with my speedometer,” said the Snail, “Tell the Porpoise that he will get a ticket for speeding.” “He is a real road hog,” the Whiting said. “Tell him he can’t overtake here,” the Snail snapped, “He doesn’t have right of way.” “I know,” said the fish,” “but he is a Leftist and hates driving right-hand drive cars.” “When in Rome , do as the Roman do,” the Snail said impatiently, “and the Porpoise must listen to the Pope.” “Do you think a Leftist believes in the opium of the masses?” “ Drin k driving is a grave offence,” the Snail said, “ask Lewis C a rr o l l .” “The Porpoise drinks like fish,” the Whiting said, “then he hits the gas.” “If h...