It had to happen. The engagement is off.
Sohrab insisted it would be called an i-Tablet. I said: something more feminine, like the iPill. Then he said that we were incompatible and never agreed on anything. I was always wrong. I wagered our engagement on the fact it would be a more feminine product. (I'm very playful like that. Except on court.)
He heard 'iPad', it was game, set and match for me. At least this one.There will be no re-Kindling of all this, though. That's for sure.
I must think now - better late than never. What kind of person should I look for? Someone who lets me play tennis? People ask me about tennis after marriage all the time. In fact, sometimes they don't even ask me, but have a public quiz about it.
But why should it matter? Tennis ain't so grand. After all, I'm bigger than tennis. I just need to choose someone who gives me more space. Hey, that's right aren't we doing something about space in 2016? That's it. I'll choose the guy who goes in to space. I'll call him Spaceman! Ah, he will come and sweep off my feet and we will escape gravity together. Maybe the Times of India will call us Space-San and have more quizzes about us. Slideshows, even! The joy!
Anyway, I'm off now. Tomorrow I'll tell you more about those six games I won in the Australian Open. Not matches, silly. Games. See you later, I'm Scootying.