On a cold Monday morning of August, as I lied lazily on my bed and the climate romanticized me, Maa announced my name giving me a warning to wake up or else forget my morning tea. Defeating my Monday Blues, I sprang out of the bed and made my way to the loo to restore peace in my stomach by removing the Sunday night's crap.
As I walked hastily to the bathroom with my eyes almost refraining to open up and face the sun, I slipped and had a leg-threatening fall. Blood! blood! blood!. As I noticed, I realized I had broken the tiled floor apart and that very tile had ruthlessly slaughtered my tendons. I wailed in pain, still being conscious I made my way out of the bathroom to reach my parents. Blood was pumping out of my leg. Blood pool is a scary sight and it gets even scarier when you realize that pool has been filled in with your own blood. In immense pain and helplessness, I hopscotched my way to the drawing room; collapsed and lost consciousness at the very sight of my Mother.
(...to be continued)
