During one of our serious jobless moments, my imaginary friend Timmy and I were sitting, looking at the same dull point of our whitish ceiling. Tim opened his mouth (sadly!!) without turning his head:
"Rini, when you get old, will you dye?"
I stared at him for complete five minutes. "Die??"
Tim: God, never understood how on earth I became YOUR friend???!!!??
Me: Errr.. May be, I created you out of MY imagination??Tim: Haa... Don't change the topic now.. Coming back to the topic, It's not die, miss... It's D-Y-E. Dye your hair.
I looked at him, being not so pleased. "If white/gray hair suits me, I won't.
Tim: And what if it doesn't?
Me: Grrrrr.... I would simply shave off.
Tim, looking very happy: It would be nice to look at.
Me (angrily): May be you should just die!!!
Tim: Lol, may be we should stop using that word.. Too much of chemical, I say..... From now on, no one in this room will say die..or dye..or any word starting with D.
Me: Dinner?
Tim: Except dinner.
