Please, please, tell me i am OK
There is this supreme joy when someone else tells you that you are OK. I don’t how people of the world think...but this is true of us Indians.
We go to the doctor for diagnosis. No no doctor I don’t feel tired so much. Actually I go for regular walks too (ya in my dreams) ….. we suppress as much information as possible, so that the doctor can tell us that we are OK.
The matrimonial website has thrown up an alliance. Parents do not enquire around too much. Fingers crossed. Hope he sees our girl and says OK.
Neighbour walks in. Gives your house a wide sweeping look and smiles in approval … aah my house is OK.
Colleagues take a bite from your lunch box and lick their fingers in appreciation. Thank God they think my lunch is OK.
Happy to have you visit our country. We are granting you Visa. Yippee they say we are OK.
|mmm you are OK! ... and me? ... and me?|
God! Breathless kids for ever?