Yesternight, I was just minding my own business and making myself a nice cup of tea (I was probably humming the "Bodaboda" song under my breath). I wanted to watch the latest episode of 24, where Jack Bauer has handed over the Prime minister of some obscure country to some terrorists and now wants to retrieve him. And I am busy preparing ginger tea on the kitchen table. All of a sudden, the cup decides it wants to practice walking and it lands on my leg, which moves reflexively on its path to avoid it breaking. It falls on my leg with the knife I was using to cut fresh ginger. It breaks apart neatly in three pieces upon making contact with the floor, with the knife next to the pieces, like a silent witness.
I notice two red stripes running along my leg like ribbons and note mentally that they emerged in light speed without me seeing them making their way. Before I can figure out whether to pick another cup and continue making tea or picking the broken pieces off the floor, there is a pool of blood around my leg. This dark crimson pool is widening fast and silently. I spend the next twenty minutes stopping the bleeding and avoiding painting the entire kitchen floor red. When I was gazing incredulously at the gaping wound and the blood rushing out, my brother cleaned the mess. The other cups in the tray looked harmless, inanimate. Was it the knife? Methinks it was the enamel cup.
To cut the long story short, I had an open blood vessel and they stitched me like a rug today. Stitch comes out after 7 days so I am out again for 7 days. Fuck!
If I was married, this would probably not have happened. What do you think? Or I just say NO to tea?