With extreme care and affection, I burnt my hand today. Extremely warm oil spilled over at the back of my hand leaving a mysterious scar. I am pretty sure that the mark resembles with the map of some tiny country in Africa. I am still trying to find it out. But today, I missed my mom a lot. I miss everyone terribly. If this would have happened at my home, my whole family would gather around giving me different household tootkas. My mom would first bring toothpaste. Granny would suggest icing. Papa would remain insisting on using Bernol. And after good 15 minutes, my brother would appear out of his room with a pride in his eyes like he is having Aab-e-Hayat and would hand over me a chori mori old herbal ointment explaining the benefits of it. But there was nothing today. I could not do anything for it. I didn’t have any ointment at home. I even couldn’t find the pack of my bandages. I even forgot to apply toothpaste on it. I just left it in cold water and kept remembering the comfort of my home. I am literally a spoiled, rude, irresponsible and careless child of my parents.
I am used to my mother's voice "Eat something! you did not eat much today". And my father's loving scolds "You actually enjoy teasing us by having low BP". I literally used to enjoy it. But there is no fun here. No drama at all. There is no one to pamper you here. I do not eat until my intestines beg me to put something in them. My stomach makes the loudest noises in the class out of everyone.
My kitchen is just three steps away. But they are three miles for me. Oh God!! to go there and make something has become the world's hardest thing, harder than running regressions, finding variances and reading stupid recommended articles.
P.S. I found a 20` bigger tv in a running condition (not walking) in trash. Wadday log tey wadiyan wadiyan galaan :D