Hope that you are not in a bad mood! I mean, I was just asking how you are.. No, Oh! God, nothing, please don’t look like that, it’s killing me.

Cool a lot down, and I’ll tell you this; I met this girl, Ebie. Yeah, I mean I met her before getting engaged to her… and and and way before marrying her… hey I’m telling you, yeah, You!

Long time, said nothing, and on a fine morning like this, when I alight here like a Sinosauropteryx in front of you and saying that I got married, don’t you have any feels? You died my blog? Okay, you just hide, but not died, I believe.

Let me stop pretending that I’m apologizing. I actually am apologizing for not keeping track, but let me tell you, I have been thoroughly occupied with my pre and post-marital miracles.

Listen to me, I will ward off your scuffle with a narration of what happened last Sunday.

My second week in church after marriage, and my forth of fifth week altogether. You can assume, how well I would be known in the church and how my matters would matter to them within such a short time. Very few people knew me personally, and some remembered only my face.

After the church, seeing my wife standing beside me, one uncle asked, ‘Is she your sister’? Huh, he did not know that I got married. He had seen me before in the church, but not with a girl beside me. I did tell him what had happened to me 

Ebie started to laugh all the way, rewinding the same question, and saying, Oh peace, at least I don’t look like one married woman..’ I stopped walking.. and asked ‘what?’

‘Yeah, that’s what’! She replied.

‘No, I don’t think so, he actually would have meant whether you were my elder sister, still not married and begot kids, but not staying with your husband and still bothering your younger brother!!”

Poor Ebie, her face was shining like that of a devil in no-moon night!!

Yeah, I have had enough of it; Head Thandoori. And now decided not to have it till this climate cools down. That's why I kept my bike at home and vowed not to put the helmet on my head. Under the hot sun, facing the traffic signals and moving 'inch-by-inch' in the ruthless traffic blocks in my city, I have been receiving a tandoori smell around my helmet! I was being cooked.

What could be the height of carelessness? Is it something like throwing out the garbage along with your house-keys? What is the height of luck? Is it something like keeping the door unlocked while gone to throw the garbage?