WO - Write Only

I am a blogger who calls herself a writer despite my blog being the only testimony of my way with words. The cliché does not end there. I secretly harbor an ambition of writing a book.

By the way, earlier I shied away from confessing such high dreams in public, only to realize that writing a book is the second most common aspiration after singing. I sincerely believe that 97% of those who can speak consider themselves as good singer. Writers are more elusive as more people can speak then write :P … But the underlying principle and statistics are same, 97% of those who can write, think themselves worthy of authoring a book.

Back to me….I am different, embarrassingly so. Unlike most wannabe writers who learn not only to express what they have in mind, but also to appreciate what others have written; I lack the later.

Seriously, there are only three books that I have read till so far viz. the Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, Prizes by Eric Segal and The Pelican Brief by John Grisham. These books came few and far between despite having a sister who was a voracious reader and had fiction books sprawling the house. I enjoyed these bestsellers to the degree that I can quote out of them but they failed to kindle reading as a habit.

In fact the list of books I started reading but never completed is much larger and intriguing. I failed to finish bestsellers, self help books, inspirational books, short story compilations and even books that teach the techniques to write. Bookstore is unfortunately is the only place where I will know not, what to buy.

I really hope one day I author a book at least that will make my count of read books to four.

No Kidding!!

I don’t think parenting is an instinct. It’s the biggest commitment and responsibility one can take upon themselves.

But the question is why will someone take nine months of having a life in the womb, then cleaning after their pooping & burping, followed by incessant running behind, relentless preaching & teaching and everlasting worrying & botheration.

Being a parent makes you worry about their health, then their company of friends, then their good education, then their job & success and then their relations & how you will fit in them.

I do not understand the urge to proliferate. Neither everyone have the kind of genes which if not taken to next generation will cause any serious loss to the world nor is everyone carved out to be a great parent. If the later was not true, we would have seen far less number of squealing and misbehaving children at restaurants, airports, parties and malls.

I also do not think that all “little human’s” are cute and adorable because of their size. Some of them are ill-mannered, ill-tempered and outright ugly. Why is it so difficult to call them as they are? After all they are not travel-size-toiletries for their mere small size will make them convenient and pretty…. then why the unspoken rule to go “aaaaawwwww” on facebook when your friends publish the pictures of their kids?

I strongly believe that if the nature has not posed the trap of ‘biological clock’ to haste women in imprudent decisions of parenthood, most would have attained the maturity to skip it completely.

Oh yes!! This is just a thought. There may be rewards of parenthood which I do not understand, after all sleep, control-of-ones-life and peace of mind are overrated. :)