I wonder what keeps me glued to the window and the sight outside. While I am looking at the dew drops settled on the window sill, I am reminded of Mrs. Kher. She would always write her name on the moist dust. KAMALA. She was pretty. I never told her, though. I miss her. Had we been friends, I would have taken her out on late night walks, just like the young chap does.
They have been here since evening, sitting on their favorite bench. I am able to hear what they are talking. But I am unable to make sense out of it. Finally, today ,I get to know their names.
Geeta and Shubh. I wonder are those their real names? I named my son Rajendra. And he made it short - Raj.
I wonder what could be their real names. Geetanjali and Shubhabhish ? Beautiful names! :)
Geeta: Will you stop cribbing about your work?
Shubh: ‘Crib’ is wrongly applied. The word means ‘cheat’ or ‘plagiarize’
Geeta: I have been using the word since ages. I am sure it doesn’t mean ‘cheat’, it means ‘complain’.
Therefore, my dear, we say ’stop cribbing’, which means, ‘stop complaining’.
Shubh : Why don’t you accept that you are wrong. I know the actual meaning, and when I am telling you what it means, you should accept it.
Geeta: Don’t teach me..
I am in a fix. What does the word actually mean? Both of them are having an interesting fight. No No, ‘not a fight’ like Shubh says, ‘it is a discussion’. I am learning quite a lot.
I shouldn’t be cribbing (complaining or cheating, whatever). The discussion seems endless. I feel like being a part of their discussion.
But it’s time for me to take a night’s sleep. The benazepril is working.
Onto Chapter 3: From the diary.... III
Back to Chapter 1: From the diary...I