Someone put the evil-eye on me

1 May

I fell off my pink cloud with a thud.”- Elizabeth Taylor

And it hurted.

It has been the worst week I have had in Hyderabad; let me just say that even coffee failed to make me inappropriately excited. Yes, I know. Shocking. It is a miracle that I did not oblige the homicidal voices in my head.

I will not lie to you, brethren. I am convinced someone put an evil spell on me.

Look – the week started with me having a mild fever, which I wasn’t bothered about – I have this belief that if you just ignore the sickness, it’ll get bored that you aren’t paying it any attention and go away. But this fever acted like it was some sort of bacterial assassin for someone with a grudge against me. Not only did it summon a migraine, but it succeeded in confusing my hormonal cycle as well. I was feverish in a 36°C climate, with a migraine so terrible that I was actually unsure whether the drums I could hear were inside or outside of my head, and my poor hormones were so confused whether to be on PMS mode or not, that they decided to dilute my blood with oestrogen and progesterone so as not to be accused of a lack of effort.

At this point my brethren, you should be reading this post with a sympathetic heart, maybe ‘tching’ a   little and wishing that you had my address so that you could send me chocolate. Clearly I needed it, You would have noticed that I was not having the best week of my life. And then I went to the bathroom and dropped my phone somewhere in that space…

..and consequently it deathed off.  Godzilla II is the sad-ass type of phone, that if you drop it on the road by mistake and come back 5 minutes later to look for it, will still be there because no one is bothered enough to steal such a shit mobile. To be fair though, Godzilla II did allow me to make calls and receive them, which is all that you should expect from a phone really. And now I was cut off from the outside world. From everyone I would have normally called and forced to listen to my whining and bitching.

So I had no phone and no one to give me a hug when I demanded one. I was suffering with sickness, had a sudden onslaught of an almost quarter-life crisis and was hormonally crazy as a loon. There was no chocolate and to top things off, I had no new music.

All this misfortune had to be the work of someone who cast the evil eye on me. I narrowed down my list of suspects – it *must* have been that old lady who glared spitefully at me when I bought the last bun at the coffee place – see, seee, I *knew* that all that muttering under her breath wasn’t just senility.

If I was home, my aachi would wrap rock salt in newspaper, trace the outline of my body with it, make me pretend to spit thrice on it and then throw it into the fire. This was how we’d get rid of the evil eye when I was growing up. Now, eHow informs me that eating garlic is the way to go. Sounds reasonable enough. After I shrug off this hex, I’m going to black magic the shizz out of that old woman.

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