
So, you know, God made Mondays. Not one, two, ten or hundred. Countless, so that no week ever goes without them. Not even a single week. So ungodly!
When after enjoying one or two days of the heavenly weekends, we start getting used to them, something happens. Something which falls upon like Indra’s Vajra. Yeah! The reminder that Monday is knocking at your door. An alarm clock or (for some) a calender!
Then begins the agony after the ecstasy. And it feels more painful because it comes just after the ecstasy. It embitters each memory we had so fondly built in the last two days. It destroys everything. Ruthlessly.
Then we start dragging our feet, one by one, towards office, the ultimate concentration camp. (Hey, Hitler didn’t think of this. Why?) But there is one solace. Every night has an end; every week has a weekend.
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