It was a miracle. It was like a magic wand that changed peoples' lives. It certainlychanged life for the Sharma family.
It was a miracle. It was like a magic wand that changed peoples' lives. It certainlychanged life for the Sharma family."Why don't we call on ...
It was a miracle. It was like a magic wand that changed peoples' lives. It certainlychanged life for the Sharma family.
"Why don't we call on the Guptas this evening," Mr Sharma said cheerfullyafter he returned from office. Mrs Sharma was thrilled. She hadn't seen her husband inthis mood for years. They spent a wonderful evening with the Guptas. The Yadavs droppedin, and then the Reddys joined them. They talked of old times. As they drove back home MrsSharma sighed: "I can't remember such a happy evening since our first years ofmarriage!" Mr Sharma whistled under his breath.
"Come on, gang," Mr Sharma roared on the dining table. "Let's see who'sbest at word-building!" For the first time in years the whole family playedafter-dinner games. The twins were delirious from the word go. Sunil was just tolerant atfirst but soon caught the spirit. Geeta was positively embarrassed. What would hercollegemates think? But in the end she was screaming and yelling with the twins.
Next day, they drove to the countryside beyond the Qutab. Mr Sharma showed the childrenwild flowers. He identified the birds that they never saw in the heart of the city."I had no idea you knew so much about birds, Dad," Sunil blurted.
"He was an ardent bird-watcher when he was young," Mrs Sharma confided. MrSharma blushed. "Time to hurry back now," he said gruffly. "Can't be latefor dinner at the Sens. The whole family is invited."
In no time the Sharmas had rediscovered dozens of old friends. They had rediscoveredeach other. They rediscovered their children. Their children rediscovered them. Togetherthey rediscovered their children's friends and their families. They all rediscovered happytimes. They rediscovered books and films and art and music and the art of conversation.They rediscovered nooks where the grass was yet green and the birds sang.
They had rediscovered life.
It was too good to last of course. The miracle had to end. One by one they slipped backto their old ways. Not before long they stopped talking to each other. Like druggedzombies they simply stared in front of them.
The strike of the cable operators had ended. Television was back in the living room.
Idiot box, idiot box,
Make me an idiot too!
How I love your empty talks,
Make me sound like you!