A Sneezing Tale: Achoos & Bless Yous

I am sneezing. Relentlessly. My eyes are watering—not from tears of joy, but from an unholy alliance between sneezes and the cold.

The weather outside isn’t even that cold—just mildly so.

Am I hoarding all the cold inside me, depriving the season of its rightful chill? A one-woman cold bank?

There’s not a single raindrop, not even a hint of a rain cloud, to blame for this sudden shift in my personal climate.

Had I at least been caught in the rain, I could have justified this sneezing marathon. But no—my nose has taken it upon itself to stage a rebellion for no apparent reason.

My head is brimming with questions, but the sneezes are replacing them at an alarming rate.

Thought? Achoo!

Idea? Achoo!

Sanity? Gone.

My kids are exasperated by my sneezes per minute—SPM, if you will—which have skyrocketed, forcing them to chant bless yous like an overworked customer service team handling an avalanche of complaints—with zero compensation.

Bless them!

Meanwhile, my other senses are growing suspicious. My nose, overwhelmed by its own betrayal, seems to be plotting an exile mission. If it dares, I’m already planning an extradition with the aid of Dayquil and Nyquil. My reinforcements also include Sudafed for sinus relief and Flonase, just in case. No nose of mine gets to abandon ship that easily. My imagination is running wild now, spiraling into sneezing-induced hallucinations.

“It’s just a sneeze,” my ever-optimistic side tries to reassure me. In vain, of course.

At this point, I am no longer a person. I am a human-sized sneeze ball—rolling through life, completely out of control.

© Vinitha Dileep


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