I was flipping through the pictures in my phone gallery and she sat there with her drawing copy flung open beside me - pumped up with excitement like a pink balloon on seeing me after a shameful hiatus of eight long months! There were two crayons – one black and the other white – and she wanted me to choose one. I asked her what she planned to draw. She said she’ll be teaching me how to draw a cloud… and then went ahead with her cautiously punctuated lecture, “There are two types of clouds. One black and the other white. The black one rains. The white one doesn’t. I like the white ones. They don’t make the street dirty. Now you choose the crayon.” My five-year old cousin.
QUERENCIA
I was flipping through the pictures in my phone gallery and she sat there with her drawing copy flung open beside me - pumped up with excitement like a pink balloon on seeing me after a shameful hiatus of eight long months! There were two crayons – one black and the other white – and she wanted me to choose one. I asked her what she planned to draw. She said she’ll be teaching me how to draw a cloud… and then went ahead with her cautiously punctuated lecture, “There are two types of clouds. One black and the other white. The black one rains. The white one doesn’t. I like the white ones. They don’t make the street dirty. Now you choose the crayon.” My five-year old cousin.
As you ‘may not’ like it: The Great Medical Tragedy
An injection of Paracetamol could have brought down my fever
pretty fast and I would have been back to work the next day. Instead, I preferred
to take the longer route – the tablets – self-monitoring of body temperature
and pulse rate – and again some tablets – over five days. It wasn’t the fear of
injection. It was the tepid taste of medical textbooks. A carefully crafted escape
route – “Stay bedridden”.
WHY STORMS ARE NAMED AFTER PEOPLE...
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