I find myself giving into my ascetic subself and walking around carelessly amidst these striped machhars like I've got Mospel running through my veins.
I believe I've got something stronger. I know it comes from the goodness of raw foods, because they retain the goodness that comes from the soil. The original source of this goodness remains hidden to me, and I go about my heathen ways.
And why would I wish to know? The rush of this life-substance is so great that I celebrate with every passing moment, and sometimes reason is all but lost in the revelry.
Clinic-owners from all over Lahore were gathered in a meeting called for by the chief minister in the recently troubled plains of Punjab. Tauqeer sat amongst them, and his voice was heard amongst those who instantly spoke out against the proposed slash in prices. "it costs us more than that!", shouted Tauqeer, getting suddenly worried.
His wife, his sons. The money!
Imran "the champ" khan found out about the imposition soon enough and fought late into the night over flustered phone conversations. He lost the battle, and as a result many of his clinics were shut down the next day.
Meanwhile, Tauqeer had spent the night doing some math....sleeping now. complete later. remember.