In this world full of coy, stupid, ugly, and boring people, among others
I feel blessed to get to know Cindrella through Facebook
She talks to me and, may be, with many others
But why her talks mean so much to me?
I remember my weight (OK, mass) being 35 kilograms when I measured it years ago. That was fine at that age as that was the age to gain height. According to the popular belief, age before 20 is the age to gain height and beyond that, breadth.
Every incident in our life has the power to either make or break the quality of our life. For example, a smile on a baby’s face could make us happy for a moment or a whole day. Likewise, a minor inconvenient incident could make us sad and even worsen our day. We face or commit several misdemeanors, but leave it unnoticed or just avoid it just to win the rat race.
The best part of winter is sitting by the fire in the evenings and mornings to warm ourselves up. Moreover, fire in winter brings people (who are secluded and prefers to live life hanging with technology in solitude) closer.
I often hear that aim is a drive to live and achieve success in life. The more I become knowledgeable, the more I am confused, incapable, inarticulate, and weak to reveal my aim. Unlike a child who could easily speak that s/he wants to become doctor, or engineer, or pilot, or a nurse, I do not know and cannot speak about my aim. I do not have drive, but you see, my life is not paused.
I felt restless. I woke up early as I had stomach pain. Without thinking, I went to the kitchen and remembered I was supposed to be in the toilet. I ran. Thank god, I was saved and relieved. I came back like a soldier being victorious in the war. No sooner had I entered into my blanket then my mother came out of her room with a big yawning. It was almost the time to get ready, so I washed my face and started studying.
Everything we do in our teenage, the golden time of our life, may be mischievous, innocent, wrong-deeds, dubious and unsound, but those are the adventures which lead us towards the path of maturity. We meet with many people, both temporary and permanent, make countless new friends, both easily and hardly, evolve with new theories: inconceivable and hypothesis, and develop understanding of this world, moral and immoral values.
I dream to be a writer because I know how to write, but every time I look at the mirror, I think I am not and cannot be a writer. My behavior, attitude, and appearance do not match with what I think writers should have. They have different perception, characteristics, nobility, attitude, and appearance. Most importantly, they have, I think, innate skills to write phrases and verses that are always remembered in the history. Being jealous to them, I also want to be a writer.