Print rags.

- Whose stick is his buffalo-Madhusudan Parekh

- After reading the morning press, the mentality is that the 'hash' times went well

He was sitting in the train to go to Dodra. A middle-aged man was sitting by the window with a bed of Gujarati newspapers. He had a supply page in his hand. It occurred to me that going to Vadodara would take two hours. In the meantime, it would be nice to have something exciting to spend time with.

I am not surprised why I did not come up with the idea of ​​taking a raid to the hawker at the station before taking off. There will probably be a gland that is not for buying print.

The train took off. Observed around ten minutes. But the ticking of time is such that when it is about to be missed, it is not missing and when it is a little late in the morning and when it is in a hurry, the hands of the clock seem to be running as if in competition.

Ten or fifteen minutes later my mafia woke up.

Not in every case, but not in the matter of printing money.

The press is a thing that will not go out of pocket until it is read for free. After a while, the gentleman's feelings were aroused. The press release was lying next to him. But you also had a couple of pages pressed. I humbly requested him: 'How do I know his name? Sir, can you give me a page of the newspaper? I'll take a look and return. My humility may have had the opposite effect. He stared at me with wide eyes. I bought the print especially for my time. Let me give you a page of my newspaper, then looking at that page in your hand, the other Mr. Kyarana, who is sitting on the tampi for the Mafatiya newspaper, will ask for another new page by lengthening his neck.

The pages of the newspaper I bought to spend special time reach to the end of the box. I have experienced the mafia instincts of the people. When I get to the landing station, I have only two pages in my hand! '

Instead of giving me the opportunity to read the press, he started arguing for my self-respect, so I said angrily: 'Sir, I don't want the press. But what was the need to make such a long argument? If I had said 'no' in a single word ... '

But he was still staring at me.

It is natural for me to dislike his long-winded argument. But man only has a maftiya instinct, somewhere in the market or in a column in the press in large letters for free ...! These three bold words immediately grab the reader's attention.

Putting all other things aside, the interest he gets in reading the press for free, the fun is different. Spending money on printing is commonplace, but even people with low self-esteem find it distasteful: 'What do you get for spending money on printing?' What is the harm if we do not read the press? They have such favorite arguments ready.

My mindset is like the ultimate addict of the press. If the press doesn't come, my tea will be useless. Spoil the day. After reading the morning press, the mentality is that the 'hash' times went well. A neighbor was telling me I was not ordering a print. I have to order - for the wife's 'pleasure'.

It is not a special time every day to read the press. But on Sunday it was a feast and a disaster for me. In the morning, Kher Salad takes the print out of my hand. Let me read it now. I eat a little porridge. But if it is lost in the supply of print that ..

My voice, my call never reached his ears.

He loves to read the 'story' in full. There is a strong hope of confectionery on Sunday. Have to wait But .. 'Be a little slow - read this story.' If he gets so lost in the story that the cat comes to the kitchen and drinks milk, hey sorry! For that, two words of Haddhuti - just back.

A neighbor upstairs in my flat is so fed up with the press that he stays out of the house till 12 o'clock on Sundays.

Whether the wife is engrossed in reading the newspaper, reading astrology or getting lost in the rebirth column ... we have to remain lost in thoughts till then.

The press nurtures one's mafia, someone's time is well spent Someone has to wander outside for two hours seeing his wife engrossed in the press. The love of print is so strange.