I flushed history yesterday. I downed 11 bottles of water [almost 4 litres]. Unprecedented a feat!
|Picture Courtesy: morguefile
Filled cups and glasses and then held bottles to my lips. That’s when I heard my startled insides. Grabbed mineral water bottles and reassuring them with pats I told aloud, “it’s good for you, too, darlings!”
Being a noble woman that I always am, I quickly thought of the departing soul, as well. So bought some bottles of sparkling water. I wanted to give the person a glittering farewell!
But my insides were not as forgiving as me. They had no mercy. They hammered the shit out of the soul, flushing out colourless, dull and pale residue.
Tired of putting the seat down, I stuck a note on the toilet door – ‘Don’t disturb!’
By the end of the day, I was asked by my bemused girl, “loose?”
“But you come out quickly…”
So I took Shantaram for company. We sat closed inside until I was convinced I flushed the person off my system COMPLETLY!!!
In fact, I was more than half-way through Gregory David Roberts’ autobiographical first novel, when I sought him out yesterday night. But comfy on the loo, my eyes refused to move away from his first lines… “It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured…”
Well, it took ME almost 4 years, 11 bottles of water and I nearly peed my pants off to know that it was MY choice that I allowed some creep to torture me!