Wait. What?

If you are a vivid book reader, you’ll be familiar with the post-book-feelings, especially if it’s one which plays football with your heart (your heart being the ball here. I’m sure you understood that but I am trying to increase the word count, sue me!). And I have read more than a couple of books, if not too many, to be very familiar with this feeling. • Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Rowling wept when she killed Fred, and so did the entire franchise. I was bummed for three or four days after this book that I couldn’t pick up another book. • Kite runner - left me in tears in the middle of night; I lost a piece of me to this book that I will never recover. • Farewell to arms - I needed a break from humanity. • A man called Ove - this is one of the books that I’ll never read again, the overwhelming feeling is not easy to deal with. • 11.22.63 - Stephen King has dug a hole in my heart so huge, more than any boy ever has or ever will. • Green Mile - my most precious and...

Okay. Haven’t done this in 75 years. If my future self is reading this, then we are in the year of the most fuck you’s ever uttered collectively by the human race. Top most thoughts that must be addressed - Why are we entitled for only two days a week to relax without guilt? We spend the entire five days, waiting, waiting on the toes for Friday evening. And next, live in a constant shower of Monday blues. Because it’s almost there, just two days later. What a criminal waste of emotions to deal with. It’s 2020. We have advanced in technology. Youtube can now play music with its app closed. That is a huge improvement. But do we really have everything? No. Why am I deal with my emotions philosophically. Ek pill bana bhi lo na to dissolve post break- up hurt wala feelings. Should I paint? Should I read a book? Okay. Paint. Wait, do I have paints? Do I have brushes? Shall I buy new brushes? New paints? Okay. Amazon. Wait, I need an easel too. Oh wait. When did we last bu...