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A talk to remember

Sunday, September 14, 2008 |

Few days back D was being at leisure on a scarlet lonely beach in a white shirt, really short shorts, slippers and a can of beer. She was sitting right by F who was decked in a floral tank top, red frilled skirt and bare feet with a Pinacolada in her hand. D was staring in the oblivion and F was trying to write something on the sand against the mighty waves. Dusk, wind, beach and alcohol. Girls tell each other everything, they say.


F: So what do you think of him ?

D : Him, who ?

F : You know..

D : Oh he !!

Most people think he is crazy, but I dont believe that.

I'm no shrink and I'm not saying I've got him all figured out or anything, but "crazy" just does not explain him. Not to me. Sometimes I think he is a retard, a big brutal kid who never learned the ground rules about how people are supposed to act around each other. But that does not have the right ring to it either.

No, it’s like there is nothing wrong with him, nothing at all - except that he had the rotten luck of being born at the wrong time in history. He'd have been okay if he'd been born a couple of thousand years ago. He'd be right at home on some ancient battle field swinging an ax, into somebody's face. Or in a Roman arena, taking a sword to other gladiators like him...


Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep !!

Snoooooooooooooze !!

F rolled over to drop a glance on her cell. 8:05 AM. Unwillingly, she picked up her toothbrush from the cup, and mumbled as she moved towards bathroom “Damn it!! I hate early morn snoozes.”


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