Oh deah, why am I not a-whining?

My tongue feels like heavy metal. And some rock! I hear the term whiner and I chortle. I really got to do it. Then they will know what the word means.

One day I suddenly got giddy-headed. The room was doing a waltz around me. After an hour or so of watching this slow dancing, I decided to hold on to a chair and get up. The doc said the blood pressure had dropped lower than a Hindi film heroine's pallu. Ok, she said it was dreadfully low. "Get a fruit juice immediately," she said. So, there I was sitting in the middle of the road drinking off every little drop till I came to the end of the carton, pushed the straw further in and went, "tsu-tsu". It had to replenish me.

I couldn't stop laughing after that. I mean some watery grapes, strawberries can control my life? The little swines!

Then for 15 odd days from end-December to January something I was down with flu. Real bad. When I was not sniffling, my throat was real deep. One day I flashed a torch inside and saw how cavernous it was. What secrets it held...I would suck on lozenges to keep it lubricated. It was all very sexy.

Then a few days ago I was propped up nicely on a stool at a store when I felt this terrible ache. In the car, I bent over. The first thing I did on reaching home was to strip to the bare minimum and lie on the bed. I watched the ceiling and it felt as though it wanted to come down to me. It would be too large and hard an embrace, so I declined the offer...

Now I am down with an infection. The antibiotics need to complete a five-day course. It makes me feel like I am attending some seminar on the art of living. You know, you have to get out all the bad stuff and swallow bitter pills to find your self blah.

Every morning I wake up with this bitterness. But it is only in my mouth. The rest of me says I have to switch on the computer and get down to basics. I do.

Hey world, tell me, if life is a bitch, then why the hell does it not wag its tail at me?