Step Into My Shoes..

Last night as I lay down poring over the pages under the bright orangey lamp light, I was being nibbled by a feeling that the day had gone to waste. The day had been glorious. The sun was out and the sky had shone like new furniture. I was up early, too early for a day without work and classes. I had begun the day with the book. Like, I was up and had started reading without even getting up. After two hours of reading, I had been up and working out. For someone who is a huge fan of sunny days, whenever the morning graces with a bright sunlight, it is an open invitation for going out. And yet for someone who is also a big fan of reading, staying home and having a good read of a good book is equally tempting. I did go out for breakfast, and although I spent some time looking for places I could go, none fit the shoes of convenience. So I ended up laying down on my bed with sun pouring through the window, bright and warm, and reading. And I didn't just read. I lived three liv...

“Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands maybe.” In my head, I can talk in several accents. In real life, of course I can't. I don't even know what accent I have. I know I'll sound fake if I try and use one of the accents that I know of. But in my head, I'm like those actors who have all the help to act like someone from an entirely different country. In my head sometimes, I can also talk in various languages.  Have I thought about Parseltongue? Yes, but not often.   In my head, I have a great voice, and I can sing beautifully in front of a crowd. And when I sing, people get mesmerized and regard me with awe, which is not true in reality at all. I got a reality check fourteen years ago when I took par...

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...