The fidget don't stress
Second week of May 2017 - dry, hard, glittering and sometimes wicked heavy rain ricocheting the car rooftops. But I remember last night was cold and I had trouble sleeping - when countless thoughts approaching my head. Of life as a big chance including but not limited to family, friendship and relationship, obstacles and challenges, career and personal development, dim or bright light at the end of the tunnel. But I also remember, what happened before bedtime was more profoundly intense. Sameer knocked on my door and without even a slight approval, he came in and sat beside me. I could see a device in his palm so the kneejerk me asked, “Can I have that?” without having the second thought that he might trade it with his request. “Sure. But Harry Potter, please?” I smirked. Nebulously, Sameer took my hand. It was a hand fidget spinner. “This helps.” “What?” “For stress.” “I am not stressed.” “You are stressed. Adults are stressed.” I laughed. He took my phone and o...