"I heard you write.""Used to"
"What happened then?"
"Life"
"Waa? That's the shittiest excuse I have ever heard. Thank heavens you stopped writing!" said my well meaning friend. But something in my brain kicked me hard. What really happened to me? As I sat down for a quick recap of the past couple of years when I have been so 'unproductive' so as to say, the flashback images amazed me with the sheer enormity of what all happened!
So I moved to a new city, which I have still not embraced as my own, set out to live on my own for the first time ever, excelled in a dream job, met crazy bunch of colleagues who became thick friends, learnt to scream profanities at random people on road when they did not meet my driving standards, had a big fat bengali wedding, got my passport (ah well that has been an ever lasting struggle), built my, err our, own abode and now in a few days will complete a year of sharing my life with my best friend!
In the last couple of years I have laughed & screamed, danced and fought, smiled and smirked, hugged and cried, walked and flown and transitioned through numerous emotions. I have learnt to live in a refreshing new way, had experiences which helped me grow and have learnt to look beyond my cocooned world.
And yet, and yet... words have not come to me. Ah, or may be I did not summon them?
That little kick came at a time when I was on a brink of a reboot. Getting too comfortable in my own skin was making me queasy. The kick helped me take another leap. And here I am, at stage 1 of life reboot, with a promise to return to this page more often now :)
