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A sanguine tale

The good soul decides to do something good.
He feels happy about the great deed he is about to perform.
In his mind he sees obscure faces of people whom he might save.
When he had done it in the past, he had felt weak and had gone home and slept .. slept and slept. As it happens with him often, he sees himself in the future. He sees him self after the deed. He sees himself being weak, weak to even type. He sees himself being drowsy in the 3 PM meeting which he is required to attend. His colleagues ask him why he is so pale. Is he not well or something ? He wants to tell them. But he says ‘Nothing, nothing .. I’m OK. Just didn’t get enough sleep. It was too cold yesterday.’

The clock strikes 2 and he gets out of the reverie. It is time. He gets up with a smile and heads towards the gym. That’s where the blood donation drive is to happen.
He returns faster than he goes. He is seen smiling wildly as though something’s hit him. Internally he is laughing , laughing loudly at the ridiculousness of it all.
Meets V on the way.
V – “Where were you man, went out ?”
H – “Yup..Thought I’d donate blood”
V(with this what’s-wrong-with-him kind of look) – “Really ? ”
H - “Couldn’t do it though. The doc says - India is (blacklisted as) a malaria-prone country. You need to be in the US for 3 years(continuously) to give blood.”

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