It has been now around 10 days since my last post, initially i was not feeling like writing then later i cut my finger, and i cant type with one finger un-used.
Now let me tell you how lucky i was to cut my finger. a few days back i just had a look at my nails and they had grown too long and i decided to cut them, after searching for a while i gave up hope of finding a nail cutter, finally i chanced upon an used blade. I sat cutting nail, suddenly i felt like taking a pee so i stood up and kept the blade on my bed, on the pillow which was near to the toilet, as i was sure that by the time i take pee i will forget about the nails, so i kept purposefully on the pillow so that it will be visible and i cud resume my cutting work. As i had predicted i forgot the blade on the pillow, and got on with some other activities.
After drinking and all i retired to the bed, unaware that the blade is still on the pillow. Suddenly in the middle of the night, i felt striking pain in my middle finger, Bhenchod! i exclaimed, and in a flash of a second i remembered that i had left the blade on the pillow. the second expression was “what a lucky bastard i m”. I mean i cud have cut my throat or my eye. I clutched my fingers tight and i cud see blood dripping through my fingers, i got hold of an handkerchief, tried to tie it and stop the blood, the whole kerchief went red and i was not able to tie it. Knocked on cousins door and he later tied it with some cloth. the cut was fucking deep, as he was tying i felt like chakkar, so had a nice sleep after the chakkar. Have you noticed that after chakkar one feels so relaxed and cud go into sleep in seconds.
Now just image what if i had slit my throat and died there itself. the police and all would have caught my cousin on charges of murder. It would certainly be impossible to believe that i cud have cut myself by accident in sleep.
We havent been cleaning the house for a week and the house is full of kachra, filled with food packets, soda and liquor bottles, match sticks, cigerrate buts, cigerrate boxes, paper, magazines and every thing on the floor. Yesterday T came to my house got shocked by seeing all the kachra. As he smoked he asked where is the ash tray. I said the whole house is an ash tray. Drinking and gambling was all that happened here, all the un-employed fuckers had a gala of time. Yesterdays gamble was “who will clean the house”. So yesterday B lost and he has to clean the house today. Parents are finally reaching tomorrow.