Diwali's near, and the cacophony of human joy occasionally explodes in my ear.
Fireworks generate three very noticeable forms of energy: a tremendous release of sound, bright light, and heat. I hate all of these. Anything 'tremendous' shuts my Pyloric Valve.
For the next few days it would feel like a warzone. [well, if it were a real warzone, i'd have some advantage thanks to the towering feature of the cellular tower on my rooftop. ]
Noxious smells of several compounds (a permutation among - upto - 20 chemicals) will linger in my nostrils, and remind me why i gave up on fireworks. Ears will maintain that lingering rattle through my evenings, forewarning me that I'm to evacuate approximately 0.03s before a carelessly-fired rocket explodes on my balcony.
The eyes won't be particularly bothered, unless out there on the streets where prepubescent idiots plant atom bombs on the road... the only way to read into such a misfortune is to be on the look for kids cupping their ears in a mix of fear and excitement, or people staring at the road as if they are collectively high.
Two more things:
I just concocted "Lacto Bhang" drink (weed milk). I presume this would be what the Indian bride serves to the bridegroom on their wedding night, to initiate a few hours of reckless rumpty.
My cottage cheese preparation of the previous week seems to have evolved into a fungus pod.
I'll give it some more time in the name of science.
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