There isn't enough space!
My personal belongings are floating around in public domain with no hopes of tracing them when required, the toilet was apparently used by dinosaurs with no etiquettes even in post-liberalized India, my clothes are strewn across like fresh refugees with nowhere to go - the luckier ones having already stuffed the tiny wardrobe, the trousers hang heavily from the door hanger like topless corpses and most of my books have been banished beyond immediate reach. To top it all, Manilal and Santosh are yet to arrive!
Correction: Houston, we have a severe problem. There isn't any space!
I generally dislike Wagner. However, I heard a piece by him today and it was sublime and breathtakingly beautiful.
I'm wearing a rather remarkable shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and...
I just can't take it anymore. I should have moved on long back but lingered in the hopes of a miracle. It was not to be and I've fin...