I have been suffering from a writer’s block for some time now. Which means, I don’t have any topics to write an article.
I had heard that most writers get a writer’s block and get inspired by seemly random events. This type of inspired writing wins them awards.
So when I entered my bathroom and saw three identical but small cockroaches, the first thing that popes in my mind was,
” I should start killing these cockroaches before they become a menace”
And… then some thoughts about how the three brothers ran from a giant monster who chased them, all the while narrowly escaping the projectiles that were thrown at them.
But then, it would have been a kids’ short story and definitely wouldn’t fetch me any awards.
In case you are wondering, I did not manage to kill any of them. Now going out to by some “Hit cockroach spray”.
That time ,
When you place a call for some official work,
and the other person does not have an answer to your questions,
But instead of actually saying the customary “I will get back to you on this”,
this person tries to sound as if the telephone line is breaking up…
But you can clearly hear the guy sitting next to this person, talking loudly and more importantly, clearly on his phone…
So, I just came back to Doha. This is not my first visit, of course, which gave me a new insight into the term “homesickness”.
The funny thing about my home sickness, is that it can’t even decide my actual home.
I keep missing being away from India, till the time I am in India.
I keep missing India when I am away from India.
Such a Dilemma … which is my home ? India or Qatar ?
I visited my bank today.
As per my habit, I was observing the people around me while waiting for my turn.
I saw a mother, with her kid, approximately 5 to 7 years of age.
The kid was standing quietly by the side of her mother, staring at people around her.
I like such well behaved kids.
After a few minutes, the mother fed the kid a cashew with a hand.
For some reason, the whole picture looked very similar to that of a dog and his trainer.
When all you wanted was to become a rickshaw
But parents force you to be a car. Result :
This is called Parental pressure.
Stop abusing your kids, let them live their own lives…