Long time no see, blog! What up?
Sigh. So much business.
I don't even know what this blog post is about, to be honest. I'm just writing.
So. Nostalgia sort of happened, a few days back. Got me thinking.
Most of my friends know, I wrote a book called Puns, Pi and Purgatory when I was 14. About being an Indian teenager, and all. One of the stories was -
-it was my brother's birthday and
-i had an important exam the next day and
-He dragged us out to Barbecue Nation and
-I fought vehemently for animal rights because everyone was eating meat and fish and yuck.
-I didn't do so well in my exam the next day.
(Yes, that's basically the story. It's not actually half bad)
Thing is, as a writer, practically everything I write has a vein of truth, and a world of made up stuff. That thing up there^ didn't really happen, but bits of it did, so I exaggerated and made it into a short story.
Now, exactly one year later - it really happened.
All the details. Same.
Deja Vu, Coincidence, I don't know what to call it.
But it was awesome.
Which got me thinking, of what all changed in a year.
School/college. Way different.
Lost contact with half my friends.
Felt betrayed at the fact that I came to Arts to pursue English, and we're basically learning bullshit.
But.
I'm way more confident now.
Way more independent.
Way more bold.
I waste much more time but that's alright.
I beatboxed on one of India's biggest stages, I made a ton of new awesome friends, I got to dump Physics etc and took up Psychology etc.
I can write more stories, now. Definitely.
You can't see the black without the white, and vice versa.
But when you do see both...
There are a lot of stories there, just waiting to be written.
Sigh. So much business.
I don't even know what this blog post is about, to be honest. I'm just writing.
So. Nostalgia sort of happened, a few days back. Got me thinking.
Most of my friends know, I wrote a book called Puns, Pi and Purgatory when I was 14. About being an Indian teenager, and all. One of the stories was -
-it was my brother's birthday and
-i had an important exam the next day and
-He dragged us out to Barbecue Nation and
-I fought vehemently for animal rights because everyone was eating meat and fish and yuck.
-I didn't do so well in my exam the next day.
(Yes, that's basically the story. It's not actually half bad)
Thing is, as a writer, practically everything I write has a vein of truth, and a world of made up stuff. That thing up there^ didn't really happen, but bits of it did, so I exaggerated and made it into a short story.
Now, exactly one year later - it really happened.
All the details. Same.
Deja Vu, Coincidence, I don't know what to call it.
But it was awesome.
Which got me thinking, of what all changed in a year.
School/college. Way different.
Lost contact with half my friends.
Felt betrayed at the fact that I came to Arts to pursue English, and we're basically learning bullshit.
But.
I'm way more confident now.
Way more independent.
Way more bold.
I waste much more time but that's alright.
I beatboxed on one of India's biggest stages, I made a ton of new awesome friends, I got to dump Physics etc and took up Psychology etc.
I can write more stories, now. Definitely.
You can't see the black without the white, and vice versa.
But when you do see both...
There are a lot of stories there, just waiting to be written.
