Almost everyone I know has yearly rituals of one sort or another: people visit their hometown once a year, people visit Vaishnodevi once a year, people throw a party once a year… in fact I know people who jog for five minutes once a year (I do it twice… smirk!). Also, I’m pretty sure I know people who brush once a year, only they don’t ‘fess up.
I, as always, am a class apart. So I, unlike mere mortals without an ounce of ingenuity and gumption, sprain my ankle once a year. I’ve been doing it pretty consistently now for… oh… the past four or five years at the very least. Big sprain, small sprain, swelling, redness, itchiness, come rain or shine or exams… I’ve been there, done that… over and over again. You might think that it is difficult to manage… but that is because it has already been established you lack ingenuity and gumption. To me, it comes naturally. I don’t have to do a thing… I smile, I put a foot forward, and sprain the other foot… it’s really that simple.
But this year, things are a trifle unique. This is the first time ever that I have sprained my foot in Brisbane. Maybe because this is the first time I’ve been in Brisbane… who knows? So anyway. Here I was. At the beach. Reading a book. Looking gorgeous (I’ve always been fascinated by the fact that my reminisces are always in sepia and hence, I always look better in retrospect… maybe I was Dadaistic art in my previous life). And then I take it into my mind to let a friend teach me how to surf. Tangle in my sarong (luverly… borrowed… sigh!) and trip before I reach inst. friend. Ta-da!
I, as always, am a class apart. So I, unlike mere mortals without an ounce of ingenuity and gumption, sprain my ankle once a year. I’ve been doing it pretty consistently now for… oh… the past four or five years at the very least. Big sprain, small sprain, swelling, redness, itchiness, come rain or shine or exams… I’ve been there, done that… over and over again. You might think that it is difficult to manage… but that is because it has already been established you lack ingenuity and gumption. To me, it comes naturally. I don’t have to do a thing… I smile, I put a foot forward, and sprain the other foot… it’s really that simple.
But this year, things are a trifle unique. This is the first time ever that I have sprained my foot in Brisbane. Maybe because this is the first time I’ve been in Brisbane… who knows? So anyway. Here I was. At the beach. Reading a book. Looking gorgeous (I’ve always been fascinated by the fact that my reminisces are always in sepia and hence, I always look better in retrospect… maybe I was Dadaistic art in my previous life). And then I take it into my mind to let a friend teach me how to surf. Tangle in my sarong (luverly… borrowed… sigh!) and trip before I reach inst. friend. Ta-da!
The upside is that I’ve finally mastered the Zen art of cooking… close your eyes, reach into your shelf of the fridge (the “your” bit is optional), take as much of what-not as you can, put all of the said what-not in a microwaveable dish, take things to their logical conclusion and microwave everything thus transferred into the microwaveable dish. Voila… el sumfing-meaning-yummy-co.
So… basically I’m lame and I cook… if I don’t go to a parlour for the coming two weeks and grow a moustache, my own mother wouldn’t know me from Sanjiv Kapoor. And that just about sums up the past three days. That and Butterworths’ Legal Studies Series edition of Indigenous People and the Law in Australia (1st edition, 1995). Of everything else in this post, it is only the last mentioned that is highly recommended. For the rest… ad astra per alia porci.
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