rashmi / unpublished news

I don't remember much of it, but it must have gone something like this. Me, just the soul, looking at myself, standing meekly in front of the Almighty, the manufacturer, The One, sitting on a large embellished, Persian sofa, just waiting with his Mont Blanc to put a giant red cross across my Birth Assessment & Application Form. I don't have any clue what is going on in his mind, but I can assure you one thing, it wasn't the hour past his lunch time, it wasn't the fight he had with his wife in the morning, it wasn't the ghapla he found in the account kept by Mr. Kuber, he found in last night and it definitely wasn't tremendous pressure on him to keep the world in order. I have this guilty feeling that he wasn't in the good mood when he was working on me and he apparently wasn't too happy about it.
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india
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