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...
We were at our name calling best. “You are a kleptomaniac cactus,” I shouted. “And you are a calcified cucumber,” my neighbour yelled. “Then why have you been stan ding on my left toe for the last two and a half minutes?” I demanded. “I was merely leaning on them,” he disputed. “You have very Leftist leanings,” I said angrily. “What’s wrong with being left han ded, even God is left-handed,” my neighbour said. “ Di d he tell you that?” I asked annoyed. “He almost did, but he didn’t have a mobile phone then,” my neighbour snapped, “ he created Adam and Eve with his left hand so that they could pluck peaches and apples with their right for making jam.” “They landed in a jam all right,” I said snootily, “when they took a left turn to the apple orchard.” “They must have been riding a left-hand drive golf cart,” my neighbour remarked. “They did not play golf, they only had a deck of cards that was heavily stacked against them,” I said loftily. ...