Essay on The Person I Dislike Most

In this wide world of immeasurable spaces and distances are living human beings of diverse kinds and categories. We come to like many whom we come into contact with, hate many others whom we know intimately or distantly and cannot decide about others whom we cannot tell about so very exactly. Personally speaking, I began hating a certain individual, Mr. M.M.M. Saghir, several years ago. He is my neighbor living at the turn of our street in a thickly populated area of our city.

Well, I hate M.M.M. Saghir so much that I cannot easily enumerate all the causes. Some I describe. and among them stand out his habits and behaviour. Mr. Saghir’s most hateful (detestable) habit is to backbite his friends and relations. His talk is sweet like his voice, but the context of his talk is so venomous (poisonous) that his friends turn foes (enemies) in no time. He would put the following familiar questions to the unlucky woman whom he comes across by choice.

Madam, you look very bright today. How old are you, by the way?”

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If the lady says “Not so old as you think. And how about you?” He would answer, “I am about forty-two. But, I look young for my age.” Mr. M.M.M. would continue, “Madam”, I have heard you are still unmarried at this mature age. God help you.” The lady hearing this nasty remark would either leave his company at once or give a reply very devastating (destructive) for M.M.M. “Look at your stomach that is bulging out, your beard that has almost all gone grey, both very unfit for a confirmed bachelor that you are.?

Thirdly, Mr. M.M.M. Saghir is a great nuisance for his close neighbors who can no more stand his quarrels with his younger brother and mother and the loud noise of his TV and compact disc player. Almost everyone curses him for the noises that he raises and the fights that he maintains until late at night. He has often been heard demanding lots of money from his mother who owns the house and other property

“Then, mother, give me this last bit of five thousand, and then put a lid on your treasure.”

You, rogue, what last bit, what treasure? You a good-for-nothing as you never study nor work, My treasure that it once was has been spent more than half on you. And nothing has gone to N.N.N. Joshi, your innocent young brother, and I.I.I. Mariana, your sweetie little tiny baby tot.”

It is heard about half-a-dozen marriage homes are in the run for his marriage arrangement in expectation of a promised fat reward, which, in all probability, might not be forthcoming. All these stories about Mr. M.M.M. have brought his reputation to the lowest disgraceful, foreseeable ebb.

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