Sunday, January 20, 2008

Once Neeraj, a close friend of mine banged my balls and fled away.Obviously me being the worser athlete doesnt chase him ,but I use my warrring tactics.
In other words i wait for him to return to the class.Adjusting the perfect level for the balls of a 6 footer,I stood,I waited.His identification mark being his maroon sweater.After the long wait came the flash of the maroon sweater.My palm turned into a fist of rock, reaching for the lower abdomen,justice was going to be served,the balance was going to be complete,the eggs of joy were going to crack.But no ,sudden realisation,i move away from the maroon sweater, tearing my hair,half mad running around the class like a crazy baboon.I would have done the undoable.





















P.S.:A girl named Amal who was from Somalia , and who was a 6 footer and who was the girl with the biggest biceps,had worn a maroon sweater that day.

4 comments:

Materialmom said...

serves you right you. what a disgusting war

AtomicGitten said...

Phew... that was close...

Did you have vengeance finally? :D
And I beg to differ MaterialMom. No one touches the Holy Orbs and gets away with it ;D

Good luck for your exams.

AtomicGitten said...

you are tagged!

ajmal said...

i wish u closed ur eyes while u wer about to..........