Re- entry :)

Now that I am wearing my reading glasses and sitting in front of my sister's laptop [My laptop's hard disk crashed :( ], i'm wondering how to start writing my blog. I always had this problem.. the usual starting problem. Once a friend of mine who knows how to read hand writing said the same about me. However, since I have written 3 lines already which have nothing to do with rest of my blog, I think I'm over that starting problem of mine.

Today is one of those days where you have terrible mood swings and half of the time you don't remember how you felt half and hour ago. My day started with a bad backache and so my bunking work today was justified (at least for me). So, after doing absolutely nothing from morning, I got ready to meet somebody in the evening. No.. its not a date!! This somebody is a girl who wanted my expert advice on planning her career and thus wanted to meet me ( I don't know what made her decide this). So we decided to meet in Cafe Coffee Day so that we can talk for hours without being interrupted.

After a clean ride on a slightly drizzling road, I reached the place. I talk to her about a whole lot of things with loads of passion which I  think made sense to her. After two hours of doing the same, I say my good bye and enter the next door crossword store to look at some books. Now I see different sections of books neatly piled up and I wonder where do I start from. So I move around aimlessly to check out the new arrivals. Next to that, is the Indian Fiction section and I decide against it. Now, don't get me wrong, I like Indian authors. Its just that I am left with a bad after-taste of many IIM/IIT-student-turned-writers and I don't feel like experimenting myself with another national best seller.

So I move to the next section which is on philosophy and young India. The very opposite section is Fiction. I go right there looking for Sophie Kinsella. I take the biggest and brightest colored book and start looking at it. This guy in blue jeans and red shirt who is concentrating on a huge book in the philosophy section gives me a look as if he expected something better form me. Just because I have my hair carelessly tied up, my eyes are heavily lined with kajal, I'm wearing a loose kurta and I am wearing my converse chappal, he must have expected me carrying a book which says, "The men who killed Gandhi" and not something which says, "I've got your number". He looks at me and my book and goes back to reading his huge book. I look around, lots of people are reading books sitting in those comfortable sofas. All seem to be reading something important, like something to do with the country or on ideologies or personalities. I look at my book and settle down on a small red cushion- thing, right at the place where I'm standing.

I start reading the book and read it for a long time without getting distracted or bothered about what is happening  around me. I read for nearly an hour till I get a call from a friend and I have to leave. Since I'm completely broke, I can't buy the book and have to reluctantly leave it. I promise myself to buy the book first thing next month and to visit different crossword stores to continue reading it, till the time I buy it.

On my way back, when I'm buying dinner, wondering what my mum had made for dinner at home and wishing I was home, I realized something that I have forgotten long time back. People expect you to be someway and it often turns out that it is not the way you prefer. But we do behave how people wants us to behave many a times and that usually leaves a uneasy feeling. If we keep on ignoring that feeling for a long time (since we do not have any substantial evidence of what is happening), we get used to it. And later you realize that somehow.. somehow you have turned into a different person than you preferred to be. I wondered if I had taken the best selling philosophy book and started reading it sitting on the comfortable sofa, would I have been able to read it as long as I read the other book.. Moreover, would I have enjoyed it? And I thought, that I was better off making my own choices and sticking to them instead of following what looked best for me according to others. In the language of  "The Fountainhead", I think we all have all the characters of the book in us. Its just that, we have to choose whom we want to bring out more.. Roark or Keating?

Hmmm...

Pardon me for all the sudden gyaan. I wanted this to be a happy-go-lucky writing but somehow it has turned up the way it has turned up. We all think we only do what we want to do and not behave as others expect us to. . Or do we? ... Something to think about...

If you have managed to read till the end and are reading this line at this moment, thank you for your time. I hoped you didn't get bored. Have fun!!

Reality check

What I am posting now is an assignment given to me by my professor about "Group Identity". I haven't edited any part of the assignment and what you see here is my original work which gave me lots of satisfaction and full marks. This is not to insult or provoke anyone and is just what I've felt and thought over the years. In fact this is one of the reasons I hesitated to post this in my blog earlier but thanks to my lil sister who said this was worth reading. So my assignment starts from the next paragraph. I hope you enjoy it and reflect on few things like I did.

Considering one group identity is an extremely difficult task not only for me, but for anyone because there are so many identities we develop as we move in life. I have so many group identities that choosing one is almost impossible for me because I cannot say which one is better or important than other. They simply cannot be compared with each other because the common ground to compare them doesn’t exist. This was one of the reasons I couldn’t start my assignment as soon as we got it, because whenever I used sit in front of my laptop to write it, I am completely lost, thinking which identity I should choose. My identity is linked with my country, region, language, caste, gender, being elder in the family; a daughter, an elder sister, an engineer, a student from TISS, a dancer and it goes on. It took me many days to actually sit down and filter them. Finally I’ve decided to write on my caste identity and I belong to the scheduled caste in terms of caste hierarchy system. If this assignment was given to me 3 months back, I would have choose a different identity altogether but after coming to TISS, I have been exposed to the other side of the world which I thought was very far from me but the fact was I was not able to recognise that I was living in the same world. It broadened my ability to think and reason.

There will be some identities in our lives which we don’t believe in or would consider them unimportant because they just don’t make sense to you. But people around you will make you identify with them and you have no other option than to accept it because in a normal society if you find ‘it’ ridiculous, people may find YOU ridiculous. So I would like to clarify that this identity I have choose to write on is not done by me but the people around me have made me choose it. So whatever I will be writing here is the contribution by the entire society.

I wasn’t aware of the group identity I belonged to or rather I didn’t consider it to be very important or most appealing to me. I haven’t recognised what importance it had in forming my total identity. I simply failed to recognise it all these years or maybe I have recognised but didn’t know what to do with it. It simply didn’t matter then. But after coming to TISS I was able to reflect back, see and understand its role in my life. I can go to an extent of saying I actually opened my eyes and saw what was going on. I must admit it was highly disturbing for me, in fact it still is. The thing that disturbs me is not that I wasn’t able to react or do something about it, it is just the fact that I thought it was a normal thing that everyone followed.. it was just ‘normal’. There was nothing to look it as a privilege or a disadvantage. I think I would be better able to explain this with an example. It is very common in south (maybe in the north also) for the elders to ask your caste on your face. We never considered it a big deal because of the simple reason that it is so common in the society. But I never asked why somebody should ask something like that which doesn’t concern them at all. I mean I can understand if they ask about my qualification or about my work but WHY caste?? Now after being able to see what caste is from my engineering college, coming in TISS and learning so much about society, I am able to ask at least myself that question.

When I stop to think of the privileges that one gets being a girl from a low caste, I can probably talk about positive discrimination. In this country whenever one hear of the word ‘caste’, the other word that comes automatically comes to our mind is ‘reservation’. If I reflect back on all the years of my life that I can remember where I was aware of what caste is (which will probably come to 6 years), the only privilege I can think of being from a particular caste is reservation that government gives. Other than that I can’t remember or think of any other thing I consider as a privilege about being from a particular caste. Now when we speak of reservation as a privilege, it is also a huge disadvantage. People think you survive under competition only because you have reservation. It sometimes makes me laugh. One line I have been hearing from my 12^th class is “Don’t worry; you will get through any college. All you have to do is to attempt all the questions”. It took me some time to understand what they meant. And probably I realised what they meant because some said it directly on my face that ‘you will get through because you have reservation’. My hard work, my intelligence, my efforts, my entire personality was just ignored because I had reservation. It was like everything will come to my feet even if I just sit and enjoy. My entire success was just snatched away from me just because I had something they didn’t. Now, that is a unique feeling. Mixing your success with disappointment brings out a different taste altogether. You will start doubting your own efforts, values, hard work.. your OWN SUCCESS.

Not very long ago, I had this episode repeating again in my life when I got into TISS. I had a few comments from people who were struggling to get into TISS along with me, in fact for the same course. I think just because they were unsure about their efforts, they got this satisfaction of taking the happiness from me to make themselves feel better. People do it and they do it all the time. They make you feel as a loser even if you have done your best, just to satisfy themselves. Hurt the other person who has an advantage which you don’t and you start feeling good, especially when the other person don’t know what to do about it. This is done so much in our society not only when it comes to caste but a lot of things. This time I was in no mood to take that. I made the person sit down and explain that it wasn’t a cake walk for me. I had to struggle like others to get into TISS. Even considering the reservation, I had to fight with others from my category for the 2 or 3 seats which were reserved. I had to literally explain them that it wasn’t easy for me.

The interesting part of taking caste as your identity is, you like it or not, you believe it or not, you want it or not, people make you take it, sometimes force you to take it. And it is done so gradually, so slowly over the years that in spite of not believing it, you take it. What you do about it and how you use it is a different matter all together. What I am talking about is that you cannot achieve autonomy from caste no matter what group you belong to. The funny part is people from my group identity itself would be more curious to force it on to me. If you don’t look interested you are out grouped. I don’t find a reason to be sad or even feel proud of sharing the same identity. I somehow fail to understand that. I have got used to this from so many years that I am absolutely indifferent to it now.

Thankfully, I’ve never had an experience of being discriminated. I mentioned ‘thankfully’ because I’ve seen a number of people facing discrimination at various places from educational institutions to work places and when they speak about it, it terrifies me. I am not sure I would be able to take it as they did. On the other hand, if you take the literal meaning of discrimination, maybe I was discriminated without me knowing about it. There is this silent dark discrimination that is done in our society on basis of caste or gender or region or anything. It is like you are aware of it but you are not sure if you are thinking right about it or who knows, you may be imagining things. But somewhere you know you have a gut feeling that you are thinking right. It doesn’t stay with you all the time but comes back to you at certain times. For example, I have seen people who are afraid to continue their relation because of caste because they know it will not work. The best part about my engineering college was people from high caste would choose their partners to fall in love with only after knowing their caste. I had to laugh when I heard that. But later I was shocked to see that it was really happening before me. I mean I can understand choosing your partner for marriage depending on your caste but how can one choose to fall in love with a person, is one concept I never understood till now.

How does it feel to have this identity?? Thats a very tough question. My only privilege being from this group is reservation and it feels good and highly discouraging at the same time. Personally, I would not like to take that reservation in studies, because I think I am good enough to prove myself without reservation but you see, reservation comes as a package, it involves giving you the 15% reservation in education, giving you a accommodation, giving you a scholarship if you are doing well. I can say no to reservation in education but I cannot say that to the accommodation because I am really not sure if I can afford staying outside the campus. So yes, it feels great to be able to stay in the campus by paying less compared to others who stay outside. But you see it doesn’t feel good when people give you a look as soon as you tell them you live in the campus. It is like they give you all the materialistic things you need and ask for your emotional strength in return. So it happens all the time that people around me can see only the materialistic things I receive because only that is visible and my emotions are ignored. I have been very positive taking responses from others regarding this because one, I can understand what they must be feeling because they never got the opportunity and two, things like this can only bother me (sometimes) but don’t depress me.

I still remember when I was in my 7^th std and for the first time in my life I heard the word ‘caste’ when my teacher made students from the low caste to stand because she wanted to make a list of them to send it to someone because 7^th exams was our first state government exam. I had no clue what was going on and it amazes me that I can still remember what she exactly said and what I exactly felt. She said “ its ok, stand up. Its is nothing to be ashamed of, you people will get many privileges from the Government” and I felt why is she talking to us about not be ashamed?, because I had no clue what was there to be ashamed of (I still don’t have). Probably she was showing some empathy towards us but I couldn’t understand what was there to show empathy about. I still fail to understand whether it was empathy or she was just being rude. For some reason I started hating her after that.

To be a girl who shares this identity seems difficult to me and at the same time it is so easy. Difficult because you are at a disadvantage in an already disadvantaged group. The difficulty and the advantage are ironically related to each other. For an example, being a girl from a lower caste, you are not under that great pressure compared to many other girls from a high caste to marry someone from your own caste only. So you do get the liberty of marrying someone you like without any issues of caste (I am speaking about my own liberty I get from my family). But the funny part is the person I like who is probably from a high caste may not be willing to marry me. This is true because people from a low caste are more willing to marry someone from a caste above them then this thing happening vice versa.

Talking of power and status in the same line would be impossible. But to give a very clear answer from my understanding and experiences I can say ... Power? Yes .. Status? No. The identity I share do have power. I would not like to comment on the struggle the caste people had to get that power but at the end they did get the power. This is not the kind of power to be afraid of. This is kind of power that is kept ready to use when required because you are vulnerable.

But just because you have power, you don’t get the status associated with it. Getting status is a different story altogether. No matter how rich you are, how educated you are, how good as a human being you are, you have to fight for the status which is meant for you while many others around you get it without any efforts. It is given to them by birth, by family, by society. It is like the kid from a rich family is given a chocolate without him even asking for it and the kid from a poor family have to cry, shout, fight and then he may get a chocolate which looks expensive but doesn’t taste like one. I am speaking about facts which exist at the ground level which are hard to notice but easy to ignore.

Sometimes I feel the entire reservation policy has reinforced a different type of discrimination. It is not the kind of discrimination I used to read in books or came to know after coming to TISS but a different kind of discrimination which the educated section of people follow in a very quiet way. Then sometimes I feel I am imagining too many things. I mentioned earlier this dilemma about the truth and imagination which is haunting me from past 3 months. It still haunts me. I start thinking about it and try to think more and I get tired and then I leave it.

First Love !!

It somehow feels nice to write after so long. I think there were only few ppl who really use to look at my blog and by now they must have forgotten it too, but thats ok, at least i'll keep myself entertained for sometime now. It feels so different to write down in a cyber library when there are people all around u but i think its too late to appreciate the privacy i enjoyed at home. Ohhh!! for all u ppl who dont know, I moved to mumbai for studies, to pursue my masters in Counselling from Tata Institute of Social Sciences (I still cant belive it!!!)

Ok comin to today's topic.. this is something i wanted to write from so long, but i kept postponing it for some strange reason (lets not go into that), but before writing it down, let me warn that, people who are emotionally engaged to some of their things, like a old book or ur childhood doll or an old payjama.. only that kind of people can actually relate, understand and may be enjoy (depends..) to whatever i write from here on. People who are more practical, can find this funny and stupid also.. i dont blame u.. we just done think alike.. so my job is done.. so read it or leave it.. its ur choice.

Everyone has their own ways of venting out their frustation, their negative energies. Some write, some read, some play, some watch movies and so on. My way of getting away from stress was my best friend, my KINETIC, my bike. This blog is dedicated to my bike. People who are already finding it funny.. i told u, we just don't think alike. So for the rest of you, here it goes. I dont want to refer my bike as IT.. i'll refer my bike as HIM.

I think at this point of time, I should thank him coz he taught me the beauty in lonliness, showing me how one can be happy and content even if they are alone. He was my mentor, my friend.. best friend, my stress buster. He made me look stylish, he boosted my attitute, he loved me and he hated me. When i was angry or in a very bad mood, I used to drive fast, real fast and made sure that I bumped into every stone and ditch I encountered on the road, hit every pavement, apply sudden brakes making the engine tired and weak but still he tolerated me. Ofcourse he had his own ways of sulking, like running out of petrol in the middle of the road and getting the battery down every few days. I think every relation has its give and takes, so we had them as well.
He was stylish and dark but i never took the responsibilty to help him maintain his looks. i personally think the rough look suited him better ...besides i loved him any way he looked.

There comes a time when relations comes to an end. I feel guilty even after an year to say this, I had to give him away. My pocket was not co-operating with me to keep him. i first thought that i'll give him to the show room guys where they will recycle him because i didnt want anybody to own him, or keep their hands on him but it slowly hit me that it would be selfish to do that. I agree that I was sometimes careless with him, but i never wanted to be selfish with him coz after all I 'loved' him. I knew I could never do it, so I asked my dad to help me, to give him away when I was not at home. I still remember that evening, I returned home and saw he was not there anymore. The place where he always used to be there, was empty. I had tears in my eyes. But I guess thats how the life is. It teaches you to survive even if something close to your heart or something you love is lost. Life just moves on.

I never saw him after that, just heard that was in the hands of an expert. So i guess, he must have become active again with his attractive dark looks, to love and to be loved. He may forget me someday.. but I can never forget him .. never!! May be someday i'll buy a BMW or a Honda City (i dont fancy cars, so anything comfortable is ok), but he'll still be my first love and the best one!!

Hmmm... this is the bad thing about writing, u start reliving the emotions once again. So u must have guessed that I dont feel so 'good' right now.. so i'll go and have a cup of tea to feel better and u guys can continue with ur work. And if u don't have any, u can write ur own blog too (thats wat i do) .. So.. Thank u for ur time.. keep smiling.. tata!!

.....

PS: this blog was written by me on a lazy afternoon when i was in my one of those rare moods in which i think about my life, my frnds, the people around me. this kind of writing comes out of anger and hope. i would never want this to publish in a blog where everyone can see it, i would prefer it more to be in my dairy. but i somehow feel some people can relate a lot of things to themselves after going through it. so go ahead and read.

i've just realised that i've stopped writing. the Passion which i had from the age of 10 is dying slowly within me. all i needed was a paper and a pen and some privacy and i had the most happiest moments of my live when i wrote something... i knew i could never write like philosophers or the other dark intense writers and that was the thing i loved about myself. i was different, i was funny, i was vunerable... i was ALIVE. i never followed patterns to write anything. i never wrote for others. i wrote for Myself. thats the reason i wrote more in my dairy than in my blog. some get energy from compliments, some get it from appreciation, some get from other means but i never thought of it. i got it from myself. i had this tank full of energy which multiplied whenever i got tired and so i never ran out of it.... people around me were aware of it and so they always choose to be around me. i loved everyone, everyone loved me back. i enjoyed helping others.. i thought i was more human than many of them around me. i asked for no gratitude and i never expected it. but whenever i got ignored by the same people, i felt bad coz i never expected that from them. but i forgave them .. yes, sulked a little but finally forgave them.. but i was never aware of them taking it as my weakness. i was never aware of it.

now that i am realising a few things, i feel sorry for myself. i feel sorry b'coz i thought everything in this world was good. my world was with colours i wanted. and now that i am seeing the greys around me, i feel sad. sad to allow myself dream a second longer, to expect all good from others, to blindly believe that everthing with me was going on well. i've seen bad things, sad things, miserable things around me in these years... if it would have been someone else, i am not sure how long they would have carried on but i did. i dont call myself strong because i find people around me weak. i call myself strong b'coz i know I AM strong. strong enough to be alone through days of misery. some my call it depression but i dont name it that way. it would be the last word in my dictonary.
Do i change for the world or be the way i wanted to be?? .. i've been asking this question for a very long time now and suddenly i've realised, is it even worth to think of a question like that. how can i change for the sake of the world when i am in love with myself. beacuse i believe, until u love ur ownself, u cannot be ALIVE. yes, a few things in me have changed this time. i am not too much worried about others than me. i dont want to help others unless they ask me to. i will not take things for granted unless they open thier mouth and speak. i am in no mood to kill my selfrespect and answer them before they even think of the question. but the major part of me still remains the same.. untouched and undisturbed. People can never change my ideals, my thinking. the only thing they can make me do... is to make me Stonger.... the more pain i see, the misery i face... it can only make me STRONGER b'coz i am in no mood of breaking down.

after reading all this, if u think i have a major ego problem.. then i dont stop u from calling me a EGOIST

Reality Bites!!!

hey guys.. how r ya. i usually start with this line insipte of the fact that nobody actually bothers to see my blog or comment and all that but it kind of gives me a line to start something, to bore u ppl for the next five mins.
there is so much happening in life, not mine, in lives of ppl around me like my sis got shortlisted for IIM Banglore ( she still can't believe it), my frnd is getting married ( now this is something i cant believe coz come on she is still wat?? 22.. and she is getting married.. MARRIED!!! but lemme tell u something, if i am permitted to do the kind of shopping she is doin right now i dont mind getting married tommorow either but jokes apart i am vry happy for her and god bless her), another frnd of mine got this Govt job after a lot of struggle ( i am veryy happy for him and god bless him too). so havin all these ppl around me, i didn't find anything specific in my life to write about until yesterday.
before i start my story, i request u ppl to remember the dettol or some soap ad in which the small kid saves the little puppy and her mother is all happy about it and if u are a telugu, just keep in mind the scene from the movie Ninnepelladatha in which Tabu saves the little doggy and soon it becomes a part of the family and they live happily ever after. In all these movies these kind hearts save the dogs on roads and they turn out to be thier best friends but lemme tel u something, those are just movies, i will put the light on the reality now.

now getting with the story... i had a very nasty day with a very bad mood through out and finally decided to go to RamaKrishna Mission to find some peace to sulk some more. i asked my sister whether she was coming with me. as usual she said yes ( she just needs a reason to come out). so we got all ready and i started my kinectic to leave.
i just reached the main road where i saw something which made me stop. there was this cute little white pup on the road, looking confused in the traffic. one hit by a vehicle and it would have gone to knock the doors of the heaven (or hell, who knows??). so as i said, the traffic was in its peak time and everyone were trying to get their way without hitting the poor thing. there were people around but no one bothered to save it, infact they were seeing it as if they were watching a film ( i hate people who don't love animals) . seeing this my heart melted, the animal lover in me woke up, i felt like saving this vunerable creature from this cruel world and thats exactly wat i did.
i stopped my kinetic, parked it aside and asked my sister to wait. i think even she was confused like the creature out there not knowing wat i'll do next. i went near it and tried calling it as i usually cal my doggy like moo- moo, chuu- chuu the kind of code language which i guess only dogs understand but this dog clearly didn't coz it didnt even bother to pay attention to me insipte of seeing me. poor thing, its afraid, i thought. i finally decided to take the situation in hands coz by this time everybody around me was watching me like perfect audience including my sister while i was doin my silly act. so i waited a minute for the traffic to clear and just when it did, i went behind it to hold it in my arms where it will feel secure.
as soon as i tried holding it, i felt two sharp teeth piercing into my skin right through my palm. "ooch" i said loudly and took a step back. everything happened in a split second that i didnt understand how it all happened. i saw my sisters expression and realised she was looking at my palm with a kind of " oh my god!!" expression on her face. by this time i felt something wet on my palm and realised why she was shocked. my palm now was red in colour, with my blood ofcourse.
i didnt know wat to do, all i wanted was some water to wash it coz i still remember the first aid for dog bite which was told to me in school (biology or some other subject, i dont remember). by this time everyone around me started paying more interest to me ( i guess they started enjoying themselves by this time coz the act was at its best). fortunately some lady who was selling some flowers there came to me and helped me in washing the wound. then she said something that took my attention from the pain for a second. she said that the dog was there only for a very long time and it was going around in circles and it might be crazy. that minute i took a good look at the dog. yes.., yes!! it was going in circles and it must be mad to go like that in traffic. crap!!! that stupid dog is mad.. a MAD dog bite me!!!!! some uncle beside me smiled at the expression on my face.. silly uncle!!.
" auto , auto" i called out in anger ( i felt angry on that uncle who was laughing by this time now and part of me was screaming at me like (" why the HELL do u do all these CRAZY stuff?? ") and then we rushed to the hospital.

u must have guessed wat wat happened nxt, two injections on my both arms ( Ooocchh!!!) and lots of instructions like i cant eat non- veg for six months, cant go out in rain, observe that stupid dog regularly and all that crap and not only that i have five more pending injections for my dose to complete including the one on valentines day. while everyone around me will me celebrating their love for their partners, i will be celebrating my love for animals by taking a painful injection (rocking, isnt it).
so that way my story ended and left me with a very valuable lesson which i will remember for the rest of my life. " always mind ur own bussiness and donot, i repeat, DONOT interfere in things without thinking and don't help unnecessarily without them asking ". this holds good for not only the animals around me but also the people in my life coz after this i've realised that i keep on helping or doin things for people whom i know and sometimes for the people whom i dont know properly and lot of times i get a backstab in return.

after reading this, think about it for a minute, may be u r just another spandana :)

watever

hellowaaa ppl!!.. hearty welcome for sparing ur time and comin to read. before reading lemme tel ya, that u will find a lot of spelling mistakes, in case u don't, consider urself lucky coz i am vry bad at spellings. nxt, u may get bored and close the page before even completing it. i dont blame u, i know how i write. and the final thing is, u got a extra min, then write down a line about this after reading. it somehow keeps me goin. thank u and all the best.

blog.. blog.. blog.. heard this word a lot around. its supposed to be the "in" thing around, somebody told me. to be truthful to u, i had no idea wat this thing was until i joined orkut, which everybody does at some point of time. the first guy i met on orkut told me he got his first date b'coz of his blog. apparently that guy was a superb blogger and the grl, his date was vry impressed with his writing and she asked him out. the latest blog fan is my lil sis who discovered that she was born to be a writer after she wrote some of her own. so finally i thought i could also put down somethin of my own for the satisfaction of writing. i love writing and it started when i started writing my diary from the age of 12. then i stared writing stories which is my fav hobby inherited from my dad. no matter how many spelling mistakes and how bad my language is, i have not given it up till now. i learned how terribly i write after i read my first story for the second time. my frdnz who read that were too sweet not to tel me the truth. in fact they promised to publish my story when they start earning.. cheers grlss. watever i wrote till now was only limited upto my family and frndz, i never tried something public like this. i am also writing my GRE, so thought that this may help a bit but of course i am a easy writer and u can hardly find a gre word in here.
now that i am completely ready to write with my ipod coz i think music is the most important accessory when u want to do something creative, my fingers ready to get to work once my brain give instructions, the climate is perfect and my temper is cool, i suddenly remember i have a problem, a major PROBLEM. i don't know on wat i want to write, i mean the topic. i've seen few blogs. some one wrote about their experiences in the interviews, first day in coll, someone got admitted in the gr8 IIM, someone is flying off, someone wrote about thier love, and lots of blogs on broken hearts, lost loves, philosophy of life. wat should i write on? i am not that achiever nor a philosopher. i faced no interviews, not a topper in my class. even if i have something in love, i not among the types to share it with others.i can write about my frndz but in that case i would be writing a saga with i dont intend to do right now. being a very self satisfied human being, i dont have much of desires so that i can write on them. i am just this average student who is very self content, loves to bulli her frndz, enjoy parties but still loves to be alone, can't live without music,cant stand insects and pollution, has a crush on her fellow passenger in train for an entire day. nothin so wonderful about me so that i can write a blog on. ahh.... y dont u ppl suggest somethin..u guys know a bit, so wat say.. huh