I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still ...
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I guess Blogger should come with its own Instant Messenger. By the time I log out after posting a comment, others have added their own!
I know it pretty well how lonely I am going to be without the group and you guys. I won't be able to stay away for long.
But, this problem has got to stop.
You see, tomorrow again it could be me or somebody else.I need to clear this menace from our beloved group once and for all.
I am working on it. Being a novice to the world of the Internet, I don't say I will be able to contribute much, nevertheless, I am trying.
I know that the moderators are doing their best. Did anyone try to seek help from the other experts of the net like Divesh or Prateek?
Shouldn't it be '....., but who said imagination is limited?' or something like that.
Bobby called. She wanted your mobile number.