To the Mountains Afar

To the mountains afar
where the fated ascend
steps made of tar
and very tight bends

Still they march up
their hearts through the clouds
not a sound to be made
but their heads are too loud-

Telling them fast
that everything is a lie
"If you love your small country
you don't have to die!"

"But if that is the truth
then why are we here?
forced to climb tar steps
with bundles of fear."

The General turned round
and looked down on us:
"You're just going to die,
so what's the big fuss?"

The Nest

I look out of my window,

I see cars passing by,

I look out of the window,

I stare night in the eye.

I hear a distant song,

Isolated in my head,

Tucked in a lonely corner,

Away from all the rest.

This melody reminds me,

Of the person I know best,

His comrade is freedom,

His nemesis is the nest.

Like a wingless hatchling,

Incapable of flight,

He hides in his abode,

All the while fearful of the fight.

For before this battle’s fought,

Another must be won,

The fighter must conquer himself,

For a new song to be sung.

Ah, the melody drives me crazy,

Like the person I know best,

My best friend is freedom,

My foe is the nest...

A Beautiful Place, but...

There she was sitting at the bottom of the banyan tree waiting for the sun to go down over the hills in the distance. Some of the elders in the village said she had been around for quite some time but no one had any idea where she actually came from. No one bothered to ask either. In the village of Wahanadi, you were either born there or you didn’t exist at all. “She just came walking down the mango tree path about a year ago and set up her small hut on the edge of village boundary,” said Kemharn, the oldest man in the village. With his flowing off-white beard everyone just believed what he said. It was different with me.

I was a government official out on a tiring census journey. I had three villages to cover and Wahanadi was the last on the list but certainly the most interesting. I was invited to spend a couple of days by the village headman and I just couldn’t resist the offer. So here I was strolling around this tiny little village exploring every nook and corner and that’s when I saw this strange old lady.

Grihan, the chubby teen who was showing me around, told me that she was the witch of the village. I gave him a flick across his ear and moved on. “She robs milk from all our cows but we haven’t caught her yet,” fumed Grihan. Late at night as I lay on the cool grass trying to squeeze some sleep out of me I found myself thinking about that strange old lady. There had been something so unusual about her entire appearance. The way she rested against the tree as if she was in the most comfortable place in the world, the way she was oblivious to all the other sights and sounds around her... I don’t know why, but I made up my mind to find out who she was. I knew it wouldn’t be easy because Grihan said she never had any visitors and her hut was always shut. Not a speck of light was allowed in.

“Kill it!! Kill it!” screamed a voice a few paces away from me. I awoke with a start and saw a couple of young men beating the ground with wooden sticks. For a moment, I thought it was some morning ritual of theirs and then I noticed what they were aiming at. Coiled and lashing on the dusty ground was a cobra as thick as a hose pipe. The two men were trying their level best to get in a good shot but the incessant writhing of the snake was making it tough. At last one of them got it on its head and that was the end of it. “You were very lucky... if we hadn’t seen it near you...” said one of the men as he wiped the sweat off his brow. Gathered round me was about half of the village as they stared at the snake and then back at me. The perfect start to a lovely morning. Through an opening in the crowd, at some distance, I saw the strange old lady staring right at me, or was she? It was tough to make out with the sun in my eyes so I just got up and went to bathe by the river.

“Wahanadi had the most snake deaths until last year,” said the village headman as I sat down for a breakfast of fresh milk and mangoes.

“...and you tell me that now?!” I shot back.

“We haven’t had a single death since we called the snake pundit and had the entire village blest by him. He has cured our village of those creatures. It’s a miracle,” carried on the headman.

I found that hard to believe and the snake pundit seemed like the perfect con artist but anyway I let it pass. I wasn’t going to hurt my host’ feelings, not on a perfect day like this.

“Send Grihan with me today. I want to walk through the mango gardens.”

The best thing about a village like Wahanadi was the way it looked on a bright sunny morning. I kept thinking to myself, “This is what a Sunday should look like.” If you stood on a ridge overlooking the river you could see the hill tops in the distance. The clear sky made it possible for you to look for a long way around and all you could see were miles and miles of green and blue flickered with spots of yellow. There couldn’t possibly be anything more beautiful than Wahanadi, at least in this region of the country. Why, the entire place looked like it had been torn out of a portrait and pasted onto a different canvas.

“Are we going to pluck mangoes today? Because I really can’t climb up that high...” complained Grihan.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend two hours at breakfast you would be able to climb up like all the other kids”, I quipped.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing important.”

As we walked through the mango gardens Grihan kept complaining about how I was making him miss his pre-afternoon nap. He kept on and on so I told him to turn around and leave before I pushed a mango in his mouth. That was the last I saw of him.

As I begun to reach the end of the gardens, I noticed a small little hut packed away at the end of the trees, where the road began. It struck me that this must be where the strange old lady stayed when she wasn’t at the banyan tree. I checked my heavy footsteps and slowly walked towards it. Something told me that she wasn’t in and this was my chance to find out why she never let anyone into her hut.

I came towards the hut with no windows and realized that the door was just a large rotting piece of ply. I decided to shift it and take a little peek. As I moved it to the side, a sunbeam shot through the space in the door and lit up the room just enough for me to take in the most bizarre sight that I’ve ever seen.

The dark, damp looking ground was flat and bare, but neatly dug in rows were medium sized holes. In the center of the room, was the only smooth piece of ground and on it was a transparent white sheet. As my eyes strained to look into one of these holes, I gasped when I saw the black shiny head of a baby cobra. For a second I thought the light was playing tricks with my eyes but then in another hole I saw a greenish snake show its head and disappear. I was rooted to the spot and when somebody tapped me on the back I nearly fell right into the hut.

“You’re not supposed to be looking into someone else’s property,” she looked at me straight in the eye as she said that.

“I---, I’m sorry.” That was all I could muster.

“This morning’s encounter with one of my babies wasn’t enough for you?” she asked me without even moving her lips but I could hear her as clearly as I could hear my heart beating against my chest. I thought this was it.

I gathered enough courage to ask her, “Are these all the snakes that would kill the people of Wahanadi till last year?”

Her features softened a little as she nodded her head slowly.

“The snake pundit…” I dared to enquire.

She gave a small high pitched laugh and replied, “These fools actually paid him in gold to get rid of snakes that he himself was scared of.”

“My babies would never have stopped terrorizing these people if I hadn’t come along. Now all I need to do is keep them safe from these fools and feed them their milk and everything will be just fine.”

“How could you survive with all that poison around you? I was pushing it now.

“Poison! Stop talking rubbish! My babies have no poison to match what those fools have in their bodies. The headman whose house you’re staying in, he murdered his new born baby girl her and buried just behind those mango trees about a week ago. He thinks no one saw him but one of my babies did. He told me everything…”

“Kemharn is not too far behind either. Drowned his first two wives before marrying his thirteen year old niece and then got rid of her too once someone else came along. This village may seem pretty to you but the people here are the filthiest you will ever find. Killers! Children of killers! No wonder my babies were sent here to clean up this mess. I had mercy for a year thinking they would change but I can’t wait any longer… my babies will take care of them starting from tomorrow… if you know what’s good for you, then you’ll take the bus out of here…today…”

Sitting in my musty cubicle up on the fifth floor of my government office I tried my level best to drown myself in the files I was going through. Nothing was working. My mind kept taking me back to that encounter in the mango garden and a story that appeared in our daily newspaper three days later. The headline went something like this: “Shocking deaths at Wahanadi: Snakes claim entire village…”

Death at a wedding…

“Guess what? I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to do it” he told us with a smile.
“You’re an idiot. You’ll regret this for the rest of your life asshole!” I retorted, then burst out laughing at the sight of his face.
Bunty looked offended by my remark. “I’m sure he’s got that chick pregnant” Neel commented.
Well, his stupid remark then triggered off an exchange of insults between Bunty and Neel. Bunty, eventually mortified by the perverted insults Neel would come up with, would give up . Neel was invincible at these face-offs. His skill is best defined by an Anglo-Indian phrase, “no one could take his trip”. I could go on and on about our lack-of-life fights, but well it would take a decade. The three of us did have a lack in life, and many of our ex-girlfriends would agree.
Anyway, we were at our favourite tea-shop, near our office. Bunty had treated us so we knew he wanted something or he had done something wrong with one of our computers and wanted us to take the blame for it. The three of us worked at a call centre. Neel and I would handle the computers and the calls. Bunty, was an intern, and like most interns in our city, was in-charge of the supply of tea and cigarettes (We paid, of course. Bunty was always bumming).
Enough background information, back to the story now. I was in the middle of gulping down some tea when Bunty told me the news. “I’m going to run away and get married!” he exclaimed.
I spat my tea out at him. I know, it seems to surreal to be true bit I actually did that. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he screamed in protest.
I didn’t reply. I just realized he was being serious. “Bitch your getting married and you buy us the cheapest cigarettes you can lay your hands on?” said Neel.
I guess he still didn’t get that Bunty was actually being serious for once in his life. “You know I could have bought you some poison if you wanted to end your life. A marriage is pretty expensive, not to mention slow and excruciating” I said hotly.
The bloke was an idiot. He was barely twenty-three years old. Neel was twenty-one. “Look” he said making sure we were paying attention. It worked. Neel was quiet which meant he was being serious now. His face suddenly looked impassive. “I’m doing this whether you want me to or not. You can be friends and support me or be the usual dicks you’ll are and joke about it. I love this girl with all my heart” he said before storming out, slamming our table for a melodramatic effect.
The cheap idiot didn’t even pay the bill! In spite of that I felt bad for him. I knew how people could make impulsive decisions when they were in love. I also knew how it could ruin their life. “What do you think man?” I asked Neel.
“Don’t know. I mean how can he get married? He barely earns enough to buy proper cigarettes every day. Have you seen the cheap shit he smokes?” The three of us were chain smokers and could convert money into cigarettes in a jiffy.
“Look man either way we aren’t his parents, we have to help him instead of judging him” I said, sounding unconvinced by my own words. How right was this entire ‘wedding’? What if Bunty had children? Would he be able to feed them? Get them into a good school? All I knew was that Bunty was going through a tough time and needed us. I didn’t know at that time that these questions did not need answering. Bunty was going to run away with his wife the very same day forever. Only instead of running to his parent’s house as planned, his misadventures were taking another route.

*

The funeral, like any other funeral, was a sad one. Bunty's parents were crying. His dead wife’s parents had not come to the funeral out of fear. There were a lot of Bunty's relatives who refused to bury the axe, and were still seeking revenge. Neel paid his tribute to Bunty by singing a song, tears slithering down his cheeks as the words flowed out of his lips enchanting everyone, making the moment all the more special.
I looked at the coffin, at my old friend that lay there now. The blood from his wounds no longer tarnishing the jovial friend we would remember. I still remember Joseph recounting his death, his eyes moist and even dreamed of it for several nights. “I won’t let her go”. He challenged the crowd of angry relatives, “I will die trying to marry her”. I see the crowd beating him, tearing him away from his beloved Mariam. I hear him shouting a loud “No” and occasionally her name. After the crowd was done beating him, I see my old friend, with just a whisper of life left in him. He struggles, as he manages to utter one last word, her name, before he lets the angels take him away. I also dream of Mariam. I see her pouring the oil over her. Before she lights it with the lighter Bunty had used to light hundreds of cigarettes, she smiles and says, “Patience, I’ll be with you soon”. Even Death failed to make her renounce her love. Her love was stronger than fear. Love was a virtue worthy of God himself. What could mere mortals do to separate two lovers?

*

I walked out of the church, the sun shining in my eyes. I had just realized my old friend was dead. Killed because of an old tradition, a tradition so ancient and so stubborn, it had damned progress in our country. My friend had died for love.
Suddenly my phone beeped. An old girlfriend, I liked a lot just messaged me. “Hope you’re alright. Love you. Take care.” said the message. I thought a while before asking her to meet me. I would need a ring soon. My friend had died for love, I would live for it. Before leaving the church for the ring shop, I smiled. “For you old friend, this one’s for you” I thought. Thinking that, I walked away. Bunty freed me.

Who wants an ugly smile?

The transport strike was unexpected. It was a long walk for my tired feet, drooping shoulders and bulging beer belly. My eyes, strained against the rays of the sun, and I looked down at my shadow to escape it. I was not alone. The whole town was walking with me. Some were walking at a pace slightly faster than me. Others were eons faster. Our destination was the same though. The paan shop to buy bottles of mineral water.

I stopped, to buy a smoke. “How long is it going to stay this way?” I asked a passerby. “It always happens when the fuel prices rise, bhaiya.” replied the paan wala, who was always naked upto his waist, with his chest hair looking menacingly close to the ingredients he used. I imagined his chest hair falling onto a pan he was wrapping up, like a kite falling from the sky. Disgusted by this sick thought, I resumed walking. I was running late anyway.

*

“Hello” I answered my phone.
“Do you have plans of visiting the Victoria Memorial again?” remarked Ashok.
“You think my father called this strike? Chutia!!”
“I had already told you that it could’ve been risky.”
“It’s my town Ashok! I had to pay my sister a visit!!”
“I understand. Now hurry up!! You know you‘re running late!!”
“I know trust me you will see me in the platform no matter what happens.” I hung up the phone.

*
Since I was born and brought up in this metropolitan, I was quite familiar with the bumpy roads and the narrow lanes. This helps me reach destinations quicker. Right now, my destination was Howrah station. I took a lane which always used to be busy with boisterous urchins playing cricket. It was pretty surprising to find the street empty at this hour. I wondered why it was so. The kids must have been sleeping, or must have changed their schedule. The broken windowpanes of Mr.Mukherjee’s crib answered my query. The cricketers had finally been banned .

“HONK!!”, came the blaring, interrupting my stream of thoughts. I could sense a car behind me, it’s tires scraping the gravel of the lane. Another sick thought came into my head. What if the car was aiming for me? I jumped to my left, narrowly avoiding a clutter of dog feces. The car halted so close to me that I could barely move. There was no difference between me and the dog’s poop. I was stuck and helpless. I grimaced, as the pungent odour of the shit touched my nostrils. The smell of the dog poop had now disappeared, and was transformed into a fragrant jasmine scent, which suffocated me as much as the dog shit did. “ Carry him quickly” said one to the other. I blacked out.

I woke up to the sound of a familiar song. I couldn’t place it. My head was too fuzzy. Ah it was a Green Day's. I always imagined God to be an old heavily bearded man, so this puzzled me. I opened my eyes to a clean furnished room with a single bed on my left, an old fashioned wardrobe on my right and paintings on the wall in front of me. I guessed this room belonged to an aged man who was a nature lover, which I concluded by the Himalayan paintings on the wall. The only wall I couldn’t see was the one behind me. My hands were numb, so were my head, my legs, my lips and every tooth of mine. I realized I couldn’t move. How could I?? I was tied with ropes to a pure sandalwood chair, exactly the way the Bollywood movies show us. I was SHANGHIED..!!

I tried pinching myself, but I wasn’t dreaming. I was actually kidnapped. I found no reason why. Neither were my parents rich enough to pay a ransom, nor did I have any enmity with the local don. Horrors crept into my mind. I feared I would be chopped into pieces and thrown in some nearby pond. I also day dreamed of gunning down the criminals like a gallant knight, but then reality hit in and I was tied to a sandalwood chair again.


*

I heard footsteps getting louder and louder. It was them. I saw the doorknob moving. In a few seconds they would be in the room. I saw visions of my dead body. The only thing I could think of was to lay my head down low and play dead. I had seen this in a movie before.
*

“Hey Chandu, we’ve been successful yet again”, I heard a young voice say.
“It’s not over yet, Sam” stuttered his friend.
“He should’ve woken up by now!!” “You overdosed him?”
“I used the same as always. This asshole must be a pussy”
“What’s the total?” Sam enquired.
“It’s forty five”

I was listening to the voices with profound interest. I tried judging them by their voices, trying to find a weakness I could use to my advantage. I feared they splash a bucket of water anytime, so this was the moment where I had to exert my smartness by listening discreetly to their game plan. I had already guessed I was their forty fifth successful target.

“Look at his clothes!! He doesn’t look like he’s from a wealthy family!!”
“What are you thinking about?” asked Chandu curiously.
“I’m thinking of calling his dear ones”
“Ransom?” Chandu sounded surprised to me.
“Yes”


*

I woke up again. This time it wasn’t Green Day that woke me up but a blow to my face, below my left ear. My juvenile sensitive nature let tear trickle down my cheeks. I somehow shook myself and covered my cowardice with the mask of bravery I was accustomed to wearing.

Finally, I opened my eyes to view the room. My kidnappers gawked at me intensely. Both of them were teenagers, not more than seventeen. They were ugly. The funny and special thing about them was that both of them had a tooth missing, which imposed itself when both of them were laughing at jokes about my state. Sometimes I felt like they didn’t care about how horrid, monstrous and ugly they looked because of their missing tooth. I funnily felt they were proud of it.

“Oye Chandu look at him, what is the fucking difference between him and us now?”
“I think he’s still wealthier than us, Sam” Chandu replied sarcastically.

Every statement uttered by them scared me. My eyes were on the telephone which was kept on the shelf in front of me. I wondered when it was going to be used to call my parents. I didn’t hear any incoming calls. Was the phone dead? I hoped not.

“What’s next?? Kill him or sell him?” Sam asked furiously.
“Don’t scare him much Sam, he doesn’t know you’re joking”.

I was in a state of terror at the moment and the level of panic had reached its highest level. I looked straight into Sam’s eyes and he knew I begged for mercy at any price.

“What are you looking at dickhead?”
“I’m sorry”.
“Sorry? For what”
“Please leave me” I pleaded.
“Let’s come to the point now!!”
I didn’t answer him. There was nothing more to be said.
“What can you do for us?”
“Take everything. My money, my phone or whatever you want but please don’t kill me” I cried.
“Then what is the difference between us and the others!!” He yelled at me.

Silence again. I was elated for a second that I might not get murdered but baffled at the same time.
“If you don’t want to kill me do you want to marry me?” said my head but not my mouth. Humor was the only thing that kept me from going insane at this point.

Sam turning to Chandu asked him, “Hey, what else do you want from him?”
“Just tell this pussy to order my favorite ‘Chicken Tikka Makhani from Pizza Hut and get him out of here!”
“Yummy….!! Nice choice Chandu!! Zesty Chicken was not upto the mark the other evening”
Now Chandu turning to me “So here’s the deal!! Treat us a pizza and we set you free!”
“What?” “Are you serious?”

I got a huge blow on face for the second time.

“I’m asking you again nicely for the final time. Treat us a pizza and we set you free. Deal?”
“Okay”. I could’ve treated them anywhere at this moment.
Chandu rushed towards the phone like a hungry mongrel. I wish I could’ve called him that up to his face, but fear is a great teacher of humility.

**
Forty minutes passed away. My wallet was taken from me just a couple of minutes before the doorbell. The delivery boy was late and technically the pizza should have been free but the shameless farts paid him an extra tip. The warm oozing of the pizza toppings brought saliva from all our tongues. I was the unlucky one who was just watching them hog, but I had no regrets because that very pizza just might have saved my life. It was not an ordinary pizza. I called it a life saving hero and named it ‘Pizzaman’, whom like a good Samaritan was sacrificing its life for me.

“Hey Sam, it’s not fair!! Allow him to join us!!”
“That would be okay. The pizza belongs to him technically”
Chandu let the ropes go loose and offered me a slice “Don’t say ‘NO’” he said, his gesture more threatening than polite. I accepted it gracefully because the cut slice looked delicious and, I wanted to avoid a third punch.

My hands were still numb, so were my head, my legs, my lips and every tooth of mine. Even the taste of the pizza sucked. I felt I was a native from a far distant country I would like to call ‘Numbland’


**

“We are done!! Can we drop you somewhere” asked Sam politely for the first time.
“I’m good. I’ll make it myself” I answered to the point, carefully avoiding giving them personal information about myself unwittingly.
“You know Sam I really like this kid. He never argued and retaliated like the others. I wish I could pay him back.” Chandu exclaimed with joy.
“Return the pizza money!! Gandus!!” I replied, (again only in my head).
“You got five minutes” Sam was polite again.
I picked up my dropped wallet, carried my knapsack and took off like a jet plane without looking back.


**

The place was unknown to me. I hired a taxi and took off for Howrah station. I moved my wrist to the right a bit to check out how much time I still had. I was kidnapped, kept for hours, punched twice for just a pizza. It seemed like a funny fairy tale with me as the hero by default. My friends would laugh when they heard about this true story, making me, the joke of the decade.


**
Ashok was waiting just outside the compartment looking eagerly for me. I jumped among the crowd just to let him know I had finally reached. I think he would’ve cried if I had missed my train.

“Where had you been gandu?” Ashok yelled at the top of his voice.
“You won’t believe what happened!!”
“Whatever, Chutia. Can’t you call and inform me that you will be late.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll tell you everything” I said giving him a sarcastic smile
It triggered a quizzical look on Ashok’s face. “What the hell happened to you?” he cried out, “You have one of your teeth missing...”

Miranda, Football and Food

No one can touch me now. Not Michael, that fat ogre who is hell bent on bullying me or Father Peter who is a real ass. Anyway, I’m far away from class 5 D now. I wonder if everyone sitting around me was paying attention. Jacob certainly wasn’t. He looks like he’s going to cry at any moment.
“Okay boys, turn to page 37 and start learning the Litany of Our Lady. There’s an exam next week and you need to know the entire thing by then! So let’s get to it!”

“Lord have mercy [Lord have mercy]
Christ have mercy [Christ have mercy]
Queen of Heaven [Pray for us]
Tower of Ivory [Pray for us]
Queen of…….”

I should just ask her the way to someplace… but where? I have to talk to here. Miranda was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Since the first time I saw her, I’ve caught exactly one hundred and forty two times of my brain freezing , my heart pumping and my hands sweating it out inside my pockets. It was strange that I felt that way because she never even knew I have been checking her out or maybe she did? I would like to think so. Anyway, once I was in class, especially Catechism class, I always pictured myself walking with her on a quiet beach somewhere far away. I would look up and I could see her light brown eyes looking down at me and I knew at that moment , that there was nothing else that mattered but she – my Miranda…

*

“You could have just passed the ball you selfish nut!!”
“But I didn’t see you!!” “I thought you were on the other team.”
“You thought too much!”
I can’t believe we actually lost the Cup final because of Simon’s selfishness. He doesn’t pass the ball, he doesn’t share his tiffin. He is just selfish. In my head I had pictured everything. Simon running down the side with the ball glued to his feet, all the defenders running to him like wolves and me [the supposed goal scorer] waiting for him to pass. I’m still waiting, the game was over, the Cup had been lifted by the opponent and I was still waiting. Stupid, selfish Simon. Destroyed my thunder.

*

It was like a forest of food. Wherever I looked, I saw food and people serving them. As I had my first bite of a tuna sandwich, my eyes were already set on the garlic noodles at the far end of the table. So much food! I actually made the sign of the Cross and thanked God for food festivals, especially the ones I get invited to. As I moved on to the noodles my mind was thinking “how would black Forrest with vanilla ice cream taste?” As I expected, it tasted heavenly. My first mouth of it sent a…
“Why are you drooling”? You’re supposed to be memorizing the Litany!!!”
[Coughs] I’m …. I’m sorry... I’m not drooling Father, I just have a bad cough…”
“Then get back to it…”
[Bell rings]
That was such a boring class! The Litany doesn’t seem to end. I check my time-table and the next period is Math. Great, but then maybe this time Miranda will get me through it or if she doesn’t I can always move on to my food festival…

I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT ___________ !!

Everyone is familiar with fungus growing out of the walls but we never tried to
find out how it gives birth to itself. Well, I’m not going to throw the blanket
of boredom over you explaining the history but Michael, my Dutch uncle tells
me it has something to do with high humidity, condensation and water leaks.
Just google it if you readers want to know more about this weird and silly
issue!!

You can ignore the first paragraph, it’s not really important.
Let me introduce Peter, the dirtiest man alive on this planet who also happens
to be my friend, unfortunately. Why dirty?? You will know soon!!
Patience!!

If there is anything I can’t live with in this world, it will be my wife, Mary.
For Mary, it’s not me, but shopping. For Peter, it’s MUSHROOMS!!

Back in schooldays I remember Peter bringing fried mushrooms almost every
other day. Well, we all stayed away from him. None of us really liked
mushrooms in those juvenile days.

In college, he was kicked out of the rugby
team. Why?? At half time ‘hungry Peter’ was starving. It was Tuesday. Peter
knew his special was cooking in the canteen kitchen and knew where he was
supposed to be. The college never saw him back on the pitch again.

Next was his marriage reception where I had to taste five different types of
mushrooms. I think that was the last time I’ve ever had mushrooms in my life.

My official trip to Copenhagen for a couple of days helped me to meet Peter
after four long years since I stay in Rome now. He has a beautiful,
country-looking house. Since I was so tired, I went to take a shower
straightaway. To my surprise, something was waiting for me ‘down’ there. Guess
what?? I saw “MUSHROOMS” growing out from every corner of the wall.
I rushed out with only my towel on.

“Did I just see mushrooms going in your bathroom”?
“You know I can’t kill them”
“Are you insane?”
“Sshhh…Just a couple of weeks more and then I’m going to cook it myself”.