Step Into My Shoes..

The voices start buzzing. They are incoherent. I cannot understand a word. I don't even know if they are even words. My eyes feel heavy. I am in an alien place. The faces are unfamiliar. They seem to be masked. It is dark. I am falling...and falling...And then I hit the keypads of my laptop. I must've fallen asleep at work. What a shame. Obviously, that is a part of my imagination. I do not fall asleep at work, but I can picture it so very clearly because I have fallen shamefully asleep in school during classes. Painfully boring days, horrid subjects, scary teachers. Big classes with all too many students. Fifth standard; my parents decide to give a visit to me in school. Mathematics class. I am summoned to the Teacher's room. My class teacher is surprised to see me. Reason: he doesn't know of my existence. Is he too bad in doing his job of knowing his students? Or am I too good in my job...of keeping myself hidden in the shadows, of mingling with the crowd with ...

Sometimes I wonder if I have had too much effect of reading in my life. What a man reads defines who he is. That is true. Of all work of literature, I am not at all shy, even in this age (almost mid 20s, yes) to say that I am still a huge fan of the Harry Potter series. You might think I like the heavy loads like, hell I don't even know many of them. I just read what I like and like what I feel most close to. But let’s not wander astray from the main thing I am about to discuss here, although some of it does have to do with a Harry Potter thing, and significantly it is. May be it because I have read a little too much of the Harry Potter series, especially the third edition, maybe it is not, but when I was in school, I couldn't just get the notion of seeing myself as an adult out of my system. I used to say to myself, One day, one day the older me, a twenty-four year old me(that's just about now) would somehow pop out and I(the then sixteen year old me) woul...