Some people like to borrow things and they get high on it. They enjoy using what has been borrowed. I like collecting things. I like owning stuff. I don’t mind sharing -sometimes I enjoy it, sometimes not so much but I what I really like is having everything – small and big and nice and not so nice so that I never have to borrow anything. I am definitely not a borrower. It somehow steals a bit of comfort of the use with the perpetual sense of a debt hanging at the back of my mind. It may be because my sense of indebtedness is really high and the expectations from others really low! So, on some fine days when my friends take stuff which I own to make my life easier and I have to sort of borrow it from them back – those are the tough days! Today was one – the stuff was few books from my shelf someone has borrowed and owned but which actually I own and am trying to borrow back.
I write a lot, which keeps me off the streets and out of trouble. There is always something to write about, always a new story to craft. Not writing, for me, is like trying to hold back a sneeze. Learning to write was the most powerful influence in my life. I can still remember the awe I felt when I realized I could put real words onto paper and tell out a story. From that first ‘a-ha’ moment I knew I wanted to write.
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