I am not writing these days; not even little updates. I am not feeling that urge. Maybe, I have nothing to write, or maybe I am too busy to write, or maybe just because I am not happy with myself—I don’t know. I am not writing these days.
Letters used to be a common means of conversation between Master and me. I have written him letters as long as 40 pages. About a month ago, I brought a new notebook and started writing him a 200-page letter—it is still at it’s 4th page.
I’m a very possessive nerd when it comes to writing. I can’t write a single line if someone is around. Maybe, I’m not left alone these days.
I’m ending this post on a very discordant note, with a couplet of Mirza Ghalib, one of the most accomplished and famous poet of the subcontinent. It is certainly not as discordant with the post as I am with myself at this moment:
ग़ालिब वज़िफ़ाख्वार हो दो शाह को दुआ,
वो दिन गये के कहते थे नौकर नहीं हूं मैं
Ghalib, you are a pensioner now, bless the King;
Gone are the days when you used to say “I’m not your servant!”