Spent a whole day being dukhho-bilashi. The sickening orange light-bathed dreams of the afternoon made me feel stangely lethargic . i sat doing nothing and stared fixedly at the walls. i was almost in a trance. i started getting addicted to this wonderful drug called self-pity, ie- dukhho-bilashita. Unlike some of my 'would-be-intellectual' class-mates who often seek refuge in narcotic-haze i get addicted simply by doing mundane things like staring at walls, watching the strange geometric patterns created by the roddur, or weaving an utterly impossible story about myself or someone else in my mind. May be that's why i have fallen short of being an antel.