It's a narrow road that separates myself from the school where I spent a major part of my life for eight years. 8 years? Four years ago, I had said my goodbyes to the very trees, the building, the teachers, the laboratories (that was more of a phew-I-don't-have-to-see-you-again' goodbye when it came to the labs). We shifted our house about two weeks ago. I had texted one of my school friends to tell that now I wake up to the view of our dear school. Pat came her message- 'Hey Girl! This is destiny. When you were in school, you came by school bus. You landed up infront of school during your Masters.Woah!' It felt alright. My grandma nudged me when I stood at the balcony this evening asking me, "When did you join this school?" "When I passed to standard fourth." "8 years? That's a pretty long time!" "Whatever!" (That's not an arrogant, ugly dialogue but a result of it being repeated in ...
The blogger here is a book lover who swears by books to keep a dull day at bay. When life isn't humorous, she tries to be. When it backfires, she ducks under a book. Proceed with caution. You may trip on a book.