When I'm torn asunder, how do I concentrate on writing?
Sometimes I feel like going to office on off-days even, thanks to the calls continued intermittently throughout the day. Off-days go restless creating an unremitting hostility towards every cat and dog coming around. Or into some promising hideouts, which are known to a very few.
Suja, Chandu and Nandu are certainly missing me. But, then I have relief that Chandu takes care of them and acts his age. He makes Nandu iron his clothes, clean the car and washroom, shovelling ice etc., on rewards which seldom materialise as per the latter. He adds: He makes me slog like a donkey and gets all his works done on false promises. When I revolt, he fixes me up on something or the other I had done earlier which has 'far reaching consequences', on which I could be caught any time by Mom. I've no other way out, but to surrender. When I come back tired I could see a Tom Cat resting on his armchair like a feudal lord, crossing his legs!
That's the way the cookie crumbles at 1494, Paddington Court, Headen Drive, Burlington