“No. Actually I don’t know what. It happened after the Bod...”
At this point, the person is no longer looking at me. I begin to feel like a patient who’s just had the pleasure of having his scalp opened up by Dr. Hannibal.
“Did you see the doctor?”
“Then why don’t you!!!”
Others choose to simply flip over.
“Saji, Saji please look at us and give us all Conjunctivitis.”
(How much did you say is it going for in the markets?)
Funnier still are the ones who realise it is conjunctivitis in the middle of a conversation. The following is one I had with someone on the lift…
“Dude!! Kya? Just woke up?”
“Nahi yaar. Somethings gone wrong with the eye”
“I don’t know… I don’t think its conjunctivitis…”
There is momentary silence. It’s like the other person had a sudden attack of claustrophobia. His whole body wants to cringe away and his mind preventing. The silence reigns, till we reach the 4th floor.
“Take care, dude!” Still looking away from me.
“Conjunctivitis” brings with it a bundle of goodies. I get to stay the whole day in my room doing things, which I’ve wanted to do for ages like reading a good book. The others don’t mind either. They would rather have you stay to yourself. It is one time when fraxing becomes legal. (For the uninitiated, to frax is to free-ride)
But it’s weird at the same time. I personally don’t enjoy people telling me I sleep a lot. I don’t. Conjunctivitis has given me the laziest-soul-on-GH4 look which I’ve begun to abhor. Right now, my only prayer is I don’t get to the point of wearing glasses like my super sexy Chief Minister.
Now don’t get me wrong here. No particular reason. Don’t think the fashion’s caught on in the North yet…