What a day!`

I started my day when the digits on my digital clock struck ten in the morning. I'd had seven hours of sleep the earlier night; barely so though. I'd made a to-do list after great lengths of imploration my parents went through, to get me to make one. Excessive technology does cripple a man, as did the virtual, yet surreal technology of video streaming on the bastard son of the original social media. The bastard son, DueTyoob, had definitely and definitively crippled my control over my body's urgent need to sleep and take rest and had in its stead, infested my mind with all insensible crazy questions about how American people feel about Indian food, and how tennis court drama earns more claps than a great ae whizzing past the opponent. I'd been perplexed by what I'd seen, wanting to watch more and more, just as I am right now, gripped by the urge to write this article, even when it is eleven minutes past two in the first few hours after daybreak.

The rest of my day had been spent on trying to cope with the strange sleep that I'd slept. So, as it struck ten, I woke up with a groan and a minor headache caused due to the activities committed on the last evening, a kaarmic fruit of my labour. I went to the toilet with my heavy head and flushed out my body's poison and any hopes for a jolly day; all while playing a game of cricket on my mobile phone, as the real one was neither available nor affordable. Then, I brushed my teeth in the regular laggardly manner that I do, speeding and slowing every few strokes as if being jolted with bolts of electricity every now and then. Finally, I came out of the washroom, into the brighter world, and sighed. It was bright outside, even in the lobby, for the toilet light switch was a complete goner. Yes, we'd perform all bathroom-ly activities in the dark; bathing could almost be called a ballet of sorts, a ballet of the blind and for the blind.

After that happened, I and my friend brewed some piping hot chocolate, for the three of us, to drink while the temperature in the house was still below 30 Celsius. The three of us. A whole gal had just moved in and was still in shock from the mindless aberration that she'd seen looming around the house like a fart. The chocolate took some time to drink and by then, it was mid-noon. So, we thought of making lunch, and regular dal and chaawal had bored us towards finding newer meanings to life. We thought that we had okra, we had dal and we had tamarind. Why not make something called okra-sambhar! Then Google told us that somebody who had seen our fate earlier in her life had already invented it and had even given it taste. So, with a because-we-can attitude, we proceeded on to cook the abomination. Throw in some pressure-cooked rice with it, and it would be just glorious. The other saambhaar that I'd made in my better days had been sitting in the fridge till it bottom had hurt. So, I decided to take it out and provide it with some warmth and encouragement. The microwave was good enough for the warmth-giving, and it found encouragement when it met its newly found friend - the other saambhaar. I could tell that they went along well, as they tasted really good together.

Food was eaten and things were said about it. This made the clock strike three in the afternoon. This called for other forms of consumable entertainment. And what better than the glorious Arabian invention, the hukkaah! We fired that up and blew some steam off of that. A buffalo-like friend of ours had brought along a few cigarollis with him, which we smoked amidst a tumultuous climate that had been staging winds that could topple trees like a Japanese doll.

Mindblown, we came back to our house and played some table tennis for a while with the ball finding itself in the air most of the times, and around the table on others. When the sport bored us enough, we marched up to our rooms, made some coffee, again piping hot, sipped it like 60-year-olds do after retirement and bid the buffalo goodbye. Finally, I wanted to freshen up and get all the sweat off my body. That is when I made the important decision of bathing myself in the cool waters of the place known as the Lightless Bathhouse. As the shower cooled me off, I sang to my heart's pleasure and to my roommates' misery. This continued for another 10 minutes, after which I emerged from the bathroom door. That, and warming myself up with light exercise, gave me enough fresh-power to sit my lap down and start working with a guy who calls himself Ramos, on a hackathon I am a participant of. I worked for another hour or two, and my stomach gave away, pressing all the red-alert buttons in my body, which made my hand grab my phone and order chicken from TheSailorMan's Chicken. There was that, and there is now. I am writing this, teary-eyed, teary from lack of sleep; it is 31 minutes past two. I'll sleep now. Adios!