So it is Eid again. One of the very few predictable things in life, that can be relied upon to come every year.
Finally I am tired of playing the bayrozgari card. It failed to fetch any sort of pity or compassion from a lot of quarters. People ignored the bayrozgar spook just as pointedly as they had been ignoring the student one. Almost no one understands the pathos I am in, being so very old and still dependent on others. So I have decided to ditch the card, keep my ego locked up at home and do some serious job hunting.
Life is so cruel. Sigh.
These days I am reading the first book of an epic fantasy series, titled The Way of Kings. Apparently there are nine more books to come in this series. Hopefully, Brandon Sanderson, the writer, will not be as slow as GRRM.
Writing stories, particularly those with a touch of fantasy, has always been a dream for me, mostly because my story writing skills are truly pathetic. For some time, I have been trying to convince a friend with a good imagination to write something. She even wrote a novel once, so she can write one again. Please?
As for the broom, it is an integral part of Eid. Always has been, always will be, since the chances of AI and computer vision etc etc progressing enough to develop cleaning algorithms for our desi homes in near future are pretty slim.