മുടി ടെന്‍ഷന്‍!

മുടിയില്ലാതവന് മുടിയില്ലാത്തതിന്റെ ടെന്‍ഷന്‍,

മുടിയുള്ളവന് മുടി കൊഴിയുന്നതിന്റെ ടെന്‍ഷന്‍,

മുടി കൊഴിയാതവന് മുടി നരക്കുന്നതിന്റെ ടെന്‍ഷന്‍! 

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Happy B'day Mia.

Mia could get high by a mere thought of her favourite Black Dog Scotch Whisky. She liked mint flavoured cigarettes too. Puffing out a large plume of smoke onto my face, Mia once said: “I want to free from all clutches of this world, I don’t want to live a typical [Catholic] woman who ultimately fall slave to her husband. I don’t want to wash anyone’s underwear. I want to let loose my self, I want to nullify my existence, and I want to fly!”

I was beaming at her quick changing expressions, which was in a way, animated along momentary frowns well poised with her talk. Seeing my eyes gluing to hers, she took a second puff and said: “But, you’re a pain in my ass. And you pervert don’t look at me like that!”

She loved to be alone. She loved loneliness.

She last called me on her Birthday one year back from her home; she told that she would be moving to Glasgow soon. I waited her call on her this birthday; but I didn’t get any. I’m sure that she’d be brewing her own happiness in a place she is close to her two most likes – Scotch and Loneliness.

Happy B'day Mia. [ Sorry, that I couldn't post it on the same day. ]
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