Z: When were you planning to tell me? SO MUCH JOY. Yay. =D Mubarakz, Doctor saab.
T: Dear God of all Heaven. I looked at the title of the email and then the first two lines you wrote. And my heart leapt to my throat. I thought I was getting married and didn't even know and that's what I was being congratulated for. Such disappoint, much sigh.
Me: THANK YOU, Z. :-D
Me: Iss ko to daikho Zara. Always the tone of complete cosmological excision! (I didn't do anything, prediction is a godsend sometimes)
T: I googled it.
Z: I googled it too. So confused right now.
T: He said autocorrect wrote it for him. I wonder what he was really writing.
Z: Yeh raaz, raaz hi reh jaayega.
T: Doctor saab khushi se pagal ho ke ghayab hogaye.
Z: He's busy replying to fan mails. I just saw one.
T: Oh, my God. HE'S FORGOTTEN US ALREADY.
Z: It's all about cosmological excision, T. :[
T: And we're not part of it. :[
Z: I think he is feeling shy.
T: We should let him bask in his newfound glory and place bets on how long (or short) it'll last. I say, give it 12 hours.
Z: I say 12.54
Me, 12 hours later: 12.54 has come and gone. I am a sad muffin.