My Handwriting

It's been a very old habit - I love to admire my handwriting. I think every person has a tinge of narcissism in her/him. Even I do. I like everything about myself. I love to pretend that I am perfect. And sometimes I feel that my handwriting is indeed perfect. At such times, usually, I have found the perfect pen that enhances the strengths and hides the weaknesses of my handwriting.

Back when I was at an age when I would still love to be picked up by my mom, I used to get a lot of homework from school. I would have to write a lot. I would strive to be consistently impressive in my handwriting. Then I would pretend to be tired, and have my mom pick me up - ostensibly for comfort, but my only intention was to admire my writing from a height.

By this time, my sister learned to write, and I realized that her handwriting was much better than mine. She wrote like an artist, sketched like an artist, and drew like an artist. But the narcissist in me would not let me compare myself to her. Becuase, obviously, my handwriting was perfect. After all, it is impossible to improve perfection.

With college came the rampant use of the ball-pen. I had only used ink-pens in school. The change in pens took a toll on my wirting. But I admired even that. I was of course too academic and intelligent to bother with anything so trivial as my handwriting. I continued my almost illegible journey with my ball-pen right through my post-graduation. All this time, I would be frantically searching for the 'right' pen for my exams. Blue would be an all-time favourite; but sometimes black would win over.

When I started working after my post-graduation, I hardly wrote anything on paper. I was stuck to the computer all the time. It's the same story even today. But nothing excites my creativity like a pen in my hand. Many a times, I just pick up the pen to write long paragraphs just to admire my writing. (Is this one of those instances? - Your call to judge!) All my blogs are first written on a paper, then they are duly admired, and then they are finally put online.

After all, only self-admiration can make us handwriting-narcissists happy.

The Week That Was

I am sitting in a mindless training session right now, and I am thinking of the tasks that I have to finish before I have to leave for the day. I have to finish writing a very important and controversial mail, I have to finish editing a document, and of course, I have to read all news online and check my emails.

I just want this meeting to be over, and get out of this room. I want to get out of this semi-catatonic state, get out, finish my work, and just head home.

Today is Friday. The last day of my work week. Every Friday, I get high hopes about the weekend. Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday seem to be whole stretches of untasted paradise on Friday morning. On Sunday night, they present a whole chain of lost opportunities. It's the same story of every weekend. Monday mornings are perhaps so blue because I keep feeling I missed out a lot of yellow over the weekends.

Nevertheless, this week was much better than some others. Some weeks pass by very quickly, others very slowly. This was amongst the faster ones. It was a remarkable week for me - my son was exceptionally cheerful and happy, my husband came home at a decent time every evening, and I could spend half-an-hour only for myself in the 5 days that were.

Work-wise, it was a very busy week for me. But one interesting thing happened during the past week. My son got admission in a good school. It was such a relief for me and my husband. We had heard such stories about standing in long queues for the form, paying huge amounts for donations, etc., that we still can't believe the phase is over for us. My son starts school in June next year. I am already excited for him!

Thinking of the past week has started me thinking of the weekend - and I want to stop right here. I won't make any plans for the weekend. I will live it as it comes.

Kay lihave?

Aaj baryach divsanni thodi usanta milali. Dokyala phar kashta na deta kahitari lihinyacha prapancha. Pan kay lihave? Ajubajula ghadnarya goshtinbaddal lihave ka? Rajkaran, mahagai, Punyachi rahadari...? Che. Hya baddal pharsa kahi lihinya sarkha urlay kuthe? Ani dokyala kashta na deta hya vishayanvar lihine mhanje...(upama suchat nahi. Mi kahi Pu. La. nave!)
Rojchya jeevana vishayi lihave ka? To tar atishay kantalvana vishay. Mag kay lihave? Hach vichar kartana dokyala phar kashta hot aslyamule lihine ithech thambte, ani kahitari vachat baste.