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Lethargic

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Lethargy.  The last time he suffered this disease was when he was fifteen. Ever since the disease had put up so well with him.  Lying down in his bed alone, a prickly fear crept over his person that he decided to drink some beer. No sooner had the beer flowed down to his liking, he had a strong desire to smoke. He lit himself a smoke and looked at the side of the wall where portraits of his parents and siblings were put on.   His dad seemed to look at him with those stern eyes, as though, he was lashing him hard with those looks.  But, there were days when his dad lashed him even though he didn’t smoke or drink.  He let those thoughts linger on for some time. All the same, he went strong with beer and smokes. By the time, the beer was gone, it was already time for his bed. He slept like a log for a very long time.  No one knows if he got up after that.... ever!
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Point of views- a lizard story

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In a room, where only silence prevails, is a man standing on the floor? In good time he looks up at the ceiling and sees a lizard equally staring at him. The same thoughts resonate through the room breaking the silence… The man thinks “a lizard hanging on to the ceiling”. Slowly, as you move up to the lizard’s standpoint you hear it think “a man hanging on to the ceiling”. Moral of the story: Point of view and choices of perspectives are what make even lizards right in this bamboozling world! 
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My First Krackjack Smile

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It was when I was in class four that the year was 1992, and krackjack biscuits were all the rage that I fell in love with a girl. At the age of 12, one’s heart is still tender with your brain still knitting its lobes that you discover an extraordinary taste for biscuits. In 1992, krackjack biscuits went very well with our class four taste buds. Students with rich parents would buy krackjack biscuits and send them over to their best girls. And the best girls, in turn, would give them their best smiles that made the boys think they owned a fraction of the world, which was hardly true. Boy, that was some age! For the rich little guys, though… On a Tuesday afternoon with the sun high up in the sky, class four students were out in the open with the Dzongkha teacher telling tales of pancakes and old folks. I, for one, didn’t agree so well with the sun and the heat. I would go all red in the face and sweat to some acceptable degrees that I almost hated my Dzongkha teacher. A girl ...
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