I just feel like writing. There was a sudden pang of fear in the morning when I realized what if I had to put something down and I just couldn’t? This is exactly how I have been feeling for the past few weeks. I could give myself a concession; probably everything has been too over-whelming by normal standards. Turning twenty one was scary, for simple reasons like, your own mother will not ask you certain things which she otherwise might have, it’ s her way of acknowledging the emotional strength you are expected to have.
The past one week has been good, though there is a quirky guilt of not deserving it.
There is this new cat, extremely whiney, can’t mew well like my old one either, and we have concluded that it is extremely stupid with very un-cat like characteristics of wanting company.
Yes, I can still put words together.
I don’t really know if Guha is partial to Nehru but I’m completely awed by the kind of decisions he had to make. It only goes to show that choices we make are vital, it’s the act of making the choice itself not its implications which matter. I dint mean to sound like mother Teresa or Dalai lama in the last line.
I suck at this.