“Boredom. Instant boredom is being felt by me.”
“Why are you talking like that?”
“Immense hatred for hospitals is resulting in this form of speech.”
“Oh. Are you- er- okay?”
“The question cannot be answered because chronic depression is being endured by me.”
Vidhyuth raised an uncertain eyebrow, brushing an errant lock of my hair off my forehead and tucking it behind my ear. “Are you- uhm- mentally fine?”
“That would be answered in negation, because brain cells are suffering premature death.” I said sadly.
There is, if you can still believe me, yet another quirk that I have. I am sure, by now, almost all of you would just roll your eyes and say ‘What other insane characteristic, Sam? What ELSE?’ and I would reply to that instantly.
Indirect speech.
If I am depressed and don’t like a situation and am wallowing in humungous amounts of self pity, I tend to use indirect speech, where I could put scholars to shame with my knowledge of the most complex sentences of human kind and my unprecedented ability to use them to describe even the most stupid sentences using the same.
Now, just look at the above paragraph. That’s just one sentence.
I know, I am a genius.
Anyway, three days later, I realized I don’t like surgeries. One, you are incapable of being your usual independent self and require assistance for even Nature’s call (which, if you are an independent 24 year old, is extremely embarrassing). You feel sick, and you feel weak and you cant stretch because there is always a possibility that those fragile stitches might tear into your skin.
And I am still stuck in the hospital and I don’t like it.
Vidhyuth pretty much stayed in the hospital, which was sweet in one way, but I couldn’t get why one would choose stupid hospitals over homely comfort. He would be dragged off to work, go home, change, eat and gain nutrition for human sustenance, come back and bear with me, because he wanted Mom to also ‘get her rest’.
Oh, that’s right. I had round the clock people at my beck and call and that part is AWESOME. People even feed you water. If you’re particularly vindictive, you can say ‘Please. Just hold it like an inch from my lips. I am too weak’. I did it to Abhi and I am not sure if he will forgive me anytime soon.
“Your brain cells might be facing death because you are exhausting them with your words.” He said dryly, his eyes fixed on the phone on which he was working on something.
“Eagerness to go home is being felt by me.’ I said listlessly. “Hair of mine needs washing. Greasiness is unappreciated by me.”
“Your hair is fine.”
I stuck out my tongue at him. “When can I go home?”
“You will be discharged this evening. Just stop fidgeting.’
I idly looked at my pale hand for the fiftieth time in two hours, sighing theatrically, knowing that it would at once make him look up (he thinks every time I sigh, I am in pain, this cute guy) “Bored. Bored to the power n.”
It worked; he looked up to give me the flat look. “You are not a good patient, you know.”
“Appreciated.” I said dully.
“Stop talking like that.”
“No.”
He looked at me, half exasperated, half amused. “Why do I even love you again?”
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Impossible Is The New Normal #YourStoryIndia
Humor"Etiquette and politeness according to me, need to be treated right. That is, it needs to be given to the right people." "And I think that you believe that 99.99% of people don't deserve that." His lips curved to hint an arrogant smile. "Invariably...
