I’d always wryly nodded and hummed when people told me that time seems shorter as you grow because the years you’ve spent alive and experienced are steadily increasing. But now that I’m 5 months away from graduating from a place where I’ll have spent 5 years, it seems as if I have nothing but a blur to remind me of all the events that happened.

So what was my 2017 like?

I started the year with a lot of enthusiasm for an exam that I’ve been preparing for. I spent hours studying, and I cancelled internships to focus on my studies. I cannot lie though, this year has been little but a blur. There haven’t been many things which have stood out. I went out on many dates, there were weddings I attended, books I read – but achievements? I cannot think of many, or even one. Though I am very prone to dismissing the fruits of my labour.

I have many fulfilling relationships, I did sign up for a test series, but I did not stick to my goals. I am, I must admit, rather short sighted and impatient. I took part in a flash mob even though I am bad at dancing and impatient, I confessed to man I’d liked for 4 years, I wrote in my journals, I stitched a journal, I grew as a person. I’ve become more generous, accepting towards people I don’t know. I do recall many of my old posts focusing on that aspect. I’ve grown as a person, mentally, and intellectually thanks to my exam preparation – that has been the biggest focus of the year. So perhaps it is alright that I did not intern or cannot remember many things in this flowing year.

But here I stand at another cusp, reminded of this site by fluke, I read all of my past neatly typed and I wonder – will 2018 be different? Can I trust myself to be responsible and stick to my goals? But even if I do not trust myself, I must act. For I was 18 when I first came here, I will leave when I’m 23. It’s a big gap to think of.

I’m still single. Dear readers, I suppose that is something you did not expect. A big reason for it is because I have never found anyone worth fighting for. It sounds arrogant, but it is not about other people, it merely means that I have not loved enough, not that they are not lovable. And I wonder why I cannot love them. I wonder.

Well then, have a great year my dear readers.


My dearest, Lin

I am aware that the odds of you reading this letter grow ever more slim as you catapult into even more fame than you could’ve expected. However, I have, as you would call it, a major “talent crush” on you. I love that you do what you love relentlessly without a care for what the majority may think. I love that your writing is filled with a warmth, a kindness that embraces all its characters. That you let Burr sing his redemption. I admire your writing which is filled with talent and innovation. But more than that, I love that you  have this zest for life.

I share similarities with you. I believe I am fond of writing, though I do not write as fervently as you do. I am a member of a minority that is misrepresented in my country. We have negative stereotypes, my people are the waiters and janitors in the “New York” of my country. I have the privilege of studying in a college that is one of the best in my nation. I’ve had to think twice before I befriended someone, afraid that I’d be conforming to a stereotype. People have told me, “You’re not as dumb as the other ******.” It was supposed to be a compliment. We do not have a privileged history. My people were tribals before we gained independence, and now we are janitors and the bad guys in the movies. But like you said Lin, back home, we have doctors, we have lawyers (heck I’m studying law right now), we are more than what we are portrayed to be.

You told the audience, “no one can make the dream you want, you have to make it yourself.” It opened something within me. You are right, I must move ahead on my own. Hamilton is beautiful, you inspire me. I love you but you are married and I will be rather disappointed if you leave her in a manner not related to falling out of love. Stay exceptionally caring, I know you are sensitive because you are experienced. I am too. I wish you all the best. Thank you for telling the audience what you told them that day.

I have the honour to be your Obedient Servant


Hello my dear readers. I finally went ahead and did a corp internship. (An internship with a corporate law firm.)

How was it?

It was ridiculously fun. I met this great, insanely fun group of people and we bonded like jelly does with custard and I had one of the best internships I’ve ever had. I know I have this habit of labeling every internship I do as ridiculously fun, but there is just no other word for it. I interned in a Tier I law firm. (I somehow managed to scrape my way through their admission process. I am convinced it was a fluke.)

My first day there was in formals and  with the customary heart-thumping-in-your-chest-and-won’t-stop accessory. I was determined to prove myself (when you’re a minority you’re always trying to prove yourself) to the administration and show them that I deserved to be there. There were four other interns there apart from me and they looked very serious. I was worried that things would be boring but I was proven wrong because I got a whole lot of interesting confidential work there, though most of it was research work.

My co-interns and I would take coffee breaks every few hours to cement our friendships and make work easier. I also met this cool associate who I am convinced is/was my soulmate. Unfortunately, being the professional person I am, I did not make any awkward advances on the said cool associate (he was really cool). I spent 21 days working with the most polite associates and Partners (yes, they really were that polite) and doing mostly satisfying work. It really was fun.

I was also freeloading off my brother, who’d cook all meals (I did the dishes) for me so that was quite fun. I’m going to try and be useful and add that if anyone plans on doing a corp internship, don’t be shy and go ahead and ask work from anyone you deem a victim. It’ll also be useful to read some reviews about the office you’re working in. I’d read some shady reviews off the interwebs so I knew the right thing to do would be to accost as many associates as possible and demand work. It was successful. I had a very satisfactory work sheet with a fair amount of work and compliments.

That aside, I’ve started preparing for this HUGE competitive exam. Erp! But it’s been very fun being busy, having a sense of purpose. I’ve also begun running again and I’ve been doing it for two weeks now so I feel happy and energetic. (It was partly because I ate a LOT during my internship thanks to my brother.) I’m trying to do this squat thingie, but I read that it’s not very wise to surprise your body with a crazy number of squats so I’m trying to do it every alternate day.

This is random, but I ordered this pair of white sneakers and I feel like I’m very much giving into current/fading fads. Ha! That aside, you should all give Hamilton the musical a try. Their songs are available on YouTube (bless the kind soul who uploaded it) and I have been OBSESSED with them! That’s all for now folks!

Random fact: the capital of Mozambique is Maputo.

You can make wine out of the sap of certain trees. Eg., birch. (Thanks Marco Polo for this information.)

I am nothing but a wanderer,

In this land,  in this land I pass through.

I may walk the same path as you,

But our lives, different will be.

Countless limbs in unison stand,

Yet solitary am I to remain.

I am nothing but a wanderer,

In this land, in this land I pass through.

In your books I am not to be found.

In your past, no mention of me.

In the songs of history sung,

Just a glimpse, a hidden story.

I am nothing but a wanderer,

In this land, in this land I pass through.

Tales of creation, a shadow am I,

When recalled, an outcast is found.

A hundred years may we live,

But together, never to be.

I am nothing but a wanderer

In this land, in this land I pass through.

I am no one but a wanderer,

In our land, I call your country.

Many of you may not know this, but I make up a small minority in this country I live in. Ethnically, physically, religiously, culturally, geographically – you name it, I’m different. It dawned on me recently that I will never be accepted in this country I call mine. Save for a few highly educated people, I am treated like a foreigner in  a country that insists that I should behave a particular way to be accepted. Very recently, a class mate of  mine asked me if I was from *insert racial slur* land because I knew a certain song. It was a popular American pop song and a lot of my friends were singing along to it in class. For some reason he thought that that ordinary action of mine warranted a racial slur.

I told him blankly that I found that offensive (no one should tolerate racism), but he told me “Yes, I am racist.” rather proudly – a response which caught me somewhat aback. Here was a highly educated, upper class person, a human with all the educational exposure a person could dream of in a country like mine, and he was unabashedly clear about his position.

I was the “uncool” person for not being able to take it with a pinch of salt.

That aside, it made me realize that I will never be accepted in this country.

Unfortunately, once a minority, always a minority. I wrote this little song-poem as a result of that experience!

Hello my dear readers! I’ve decided to start this little writing exercise which will work as an incentive to get me to write more. The exercise will span 31 days or 31 short stories and the topic chosen will be two random words paired together.

That aside, I read my old posts and I’m surprised to see that not much has changed in my life. I’m still gratefully happy and content and single (:/) and things seem to be going smoothly as of now. Ah well, I doubt I’ll grow up any time soon.

Random tidbit for the day: Hamid Karzai was the first democratically elected President of Afghanistan. He is a Pashtun and has been succeeded by Ashraf Ghani. The capital of Afghanistan is Kabul. 😉

Hello my dear readers (if there are any of you left!).

Another year finds itself gone and I find myself typing on this battered old laptop again. I turned 21 a few months ago when the cheeks of 2016 were still supple and pink. I finished my third year! It flew by, as usual. It was supposed to be a long dreary year, but certain things happened which I never expected would!

I met this cute boy who met all my expectations and then decided to “un”meet them.(A date, the non-fruit kind, and all.)

I’m closer than ever with that one close friend I thought I lost. :’D

I interned at the High Court which was in another state and had a ridiculous amount of fun. (Not enough to shake the FOMO out of me though – those corporate lawyers.)

I worked as a student researcher studying the implementation of a certain Act in the State I live in! (Very fun, but the administration is terrible!)

I read a ton of educational books. (The age of non-fiction has finally dawned on my intellectual parvenu mind.)

I filled in 4 diaries with my experiences. (Summarized neatly in one liners, which is making me pant right now.)

I very recently went on a road trip, which turned out to be more road trip than I thought it would be. 😦

Well, that’s it in brief. It doesn’t seem like much and it isn’t but I had a blast last year. It makes me think that it’s a real pity that I’ll have to get a job soon. I passed all my courses like I normally do, but I’ve been wondering if that’s a bad move as a lot of my friends failed a few on purpose to give the make ups and get a better CGPA. (Which they ended up getting. :/).

Anyway, the cute boy is in another continent now and he has moved the hell on with his life. It makes me wonder if I should be more ambitious. I didn’t particularly like him but he did teach me a lot. I’ve been trying to get out of my comfort zone of late. I went for a write club meet up but it wasn’t the most fun. 😦 Anyway, see you in the future dear readers. 🙂 Thank you for reading this!



It’s funny how memories come and go. They’re there one moment and gone the next. The skies which look blue one day are forgotten the next. A beautiful song that moves you one night is lost when dawn comes. There’s nothing to grab onto or hold onto. When you stare at all the endless memories being made and being forgotten. Lives forged. Lives changed. Lives lost. Lives lived. People known. People discarded. All a part of one self which is reckless and careless.


Sometimes when I listen to that forgotten song or see that lost sky I remember and the feeling washes over me inside with a warm mist that moves inside reminding me of days and nights and things that disappear with it.