It was snowing but the snow didn’t simply fall to the earth. It was falling onto me, onto memories. When I was a kid and fall was over, it used to snow. And the washerwoman sang songs the color of flowers and the color of leaves, which were no more. All was quieter, whiter and brighter. At this, I woke up.The injection was giving me unbearable pain in the groin. The fever just won’t go. I had hardly slept for half an hour. For those who came in late, I’m down with high temp – aches – and sleeplessness for the last few days. I am still unwell, though a little better. My temp is 210 F, having teased me at 217 F during the last few days.
I am still writing this post because I am terribly bored of being cooped in my bed doing nothing. Writing is the silence of thought and the music of sight. I realize though that I am not 100% -- I may be 30% -- and can’t reflect very clearly enough. I may not appear witty or stylish. I don’t intend to.
I’ve to go for another round of blood tests tonight. They have taken a lot of blood already. I don’t like being pricked but I quietly give myself over to them. The docs say my platelets are on the lower side. I hope to get them back soon!
Till then, Au revoir
Sameer
