Before you read this, read Part 1: A Canopy of a Trouble
Of course, all I could do was laugh. After all, what could I do? Run after the rickshaw? Well, my nose was already running me down. And I was in no position to holler either. So, I did what was best done: I laughed. Only to realize the society guard was not quite sure why I was, in his opinion, giggling like a giddyheaded idiot. I immediately dropped all my giggles and put on my sombre looks. I morphed so quickly that that made him go even more wide-eyed! His gaze never left my bags till they disappeared in the lift.
In the lift, I cursed myself. "If only you could keep your eyes open Gary!" (I was half asleep in the rick.) "If only you had not eaten that bloody Butterscotch!" (I had not eaten, I had relished it.) "If only you had to keep your anger in check." (And I had the 'scotch because of a boiling bout of anger.) Well, the if-onlys went on and on merely because I knew I just had to go buy another umbrella. You see the rains don't quite like this city. So they pour down when no one wants them to and never arrive when arrangements are made for them. Which, of course, means that they can arrive even when you don’t make arrangements. Rather than risk that, buying an umbrella seemed much more sensible.
So, I trudged down my apartment half an hour later - purse (or wallet, as one of my colleagues insists I call it) in one of the pockets, the Blackberry in another - and made my way to Star Bazaar.
To be continued...
Of course, all I could do was laugh. After all, what could I do? Run after the rickshaw? Well, my nose was already running me down. And I was in no position to holler either. So, I did what was best done: I laughed. Only to realize the society guard was not quite sure why I was, in his opinion, giggling like a giddyheaded idiot. I immediately dropped all my giggles and put on my sombre looks. I morphed so quickly that that made him go even more wide-eyed! His gaze never left my bags till they disappeared in the lift.
In the lift, I cursed myself. "If only you could keep your eyes open Gary!" (I was half asleep in the rick.) "If only you had not eaten that bloody Butterscotch!" (I had not eaten, I had relished it.) "If only you had to keep your anger in check." (And I had the 'scotch because of a boiling bout of anger.) Well, the if-onlys went on and on merely because I knew I just had to go buy another umbrella. You see the rains don't quite like this city. So they pour down when no one wants them to and never arrive when arrangements are made for them. Which, of course, means that they can arrive even when you don’t make arrangements. Rather than risk that, buying an umbrella seemed much more sensible.
So, I trudged down my apartment half an hour later - purse (or wallet, as one of my colleagues insists I call it) in one of the pockets, the Blackberry in another - and made my way to Star Bazaar.
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