A nuclear touch

So I have been ordered here, despite my uttering the tujh say bhi dilfaraib hain couplet.
Boy, are they dilfaraib! I had to clean the house and produce some weird compound. Strictly speaking it wasn't supposed to be weird but strange accidents do happen when I enter the kitchen(not that they get me exempted*sigh*).
There is this strange touch I have.Things tend to go haywire when they come too close to yours humbly. You must have heard about the golden touch that a king suffered from due to his greed. In my language they have a phrase that describes a very successful person as someone who touches dust and transforms it into gold. Some opposite power resides in my poor hands.
There is absolutely nothing in my home that I cannot destroy or disturb or break or annoy. I had a fairly reliable printer. At least it was very reliable as long as it was out of my reach.
Then it became mine.
Then it stopped working one day.
I deduced , quite correctly, that it had run out of ink ( I am good at deductions, its just that the practical thing is difficult).
So I fished out a new cartridge and swapped it for the old one. The thing started working but gave me way too much confidence with a printer.
(Hint: injecting me with more confidence is always bad. Always.)
So he next time it stopped working, I tore it apart to no avail. The poor thing currently resides on my table, crawling with cobwebs and spiders. Maybe you, the reader, can shed an imaginary tear or two for its fate.
Then there is my desktop pc. I manage to blow up its os at least 4 times a year. In my defence, I have to reinstall everything from scratch all by myself.
Some time ago the fan in my precious graphic card started whizzing too much. I confidently took it out and oiled it. Only later did I know that you can burn a fan by oiling it the wrong way.
Again, in my defence, the fan works silently as a mouse now.I just hope I don't have to take it out again, for its own sake.
The last time I got someone's out-of-order pc to repair, I let it gather a lot of dust and then fished out its browsing history and showed it to their mom (ouch!).
 For my life I cannot count how many LCDs I have destroyed while doing one thing or the other. Just hand one to me and consider the thing done.
And it is not for want of practice that the daal chawal I cook are always lacking in salt.Or biryani or aaloo gosht or bhindi.
Anything that I cook, that is.
I rarely press my own clothes, but on last Eid I managed to burn my zero-second shirt. (I hid it in my closet and simply took another dress out).
A couple of weeks ago I was trying to kill a lizard nicely, and ended up splattering its blood on the floor and the wall.(I know it is gross)
Some time ago, being a poor person, I was trying to straighten my hair with an iron.Fortunately (for my hair) my mom found out.
I guess I do like experimenting with things too much to be considered safe.
As for annoying people on purpose, I am considering doing that for a livelihood now.
Its this tendency towards self-destruction that I identify with in Mohsin Hamid's characters(he is quite a favorite writer)
You may have read an excellent work titled 'mujhay meray doston say bacchao' by Sajjad Hyder Yelderem.
One of these days I am going to be forced to write an essay 'Save me from my self'.