Abs vs. Guts
On the eve of my "Last Supper in UK" as I devoured the second-last piece of my lovely Nando's Peri-Peri Chicken, it dawned on me that I didn't care about my disappearing abs anymore. A year of being perfect was finally coming to an end.
Perfectly healthy.
Perfectly punctual.
Perfectly smiley.
Perfectly academic.
Perfectly beautiful.
Perfectly imperfect.
And it felt less like a year, and more like an era.
Don't get me wrong. London is lovely.
Perfectly lovely.
But sometimes, you don't need abs.
Instead, you need guts.
The guts to decide, change and evolve.
Besides, I think I need more guts than abs to survive in Pakistan!
And if guts are all that important...
Then, abs are just icing on the cake `innit?
;o)
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