I have this queer habit to clean up my files and wardrobes on the onset of every new year. As I flip through some old letters and my own handwritten notes, I am forced to recall old times which I would so love to forget but never will have the resolve too. So here I am writing the year end post while tearing old papers and drinking hot soup (Of course the music is also on at full volume and Atif Aslam is singing Doorie). Mankind has passed through yet another year. Its time to get new calendars and to form a new habit of writing 13 in the date column instead of 12. Seriously, I almost confuse the years while writing dates at least the first two months of any new year. Sitting atop dead bodies of my own over realistic ambitions and dreams, I look back at this year as a really eventful year. 2012 marked new lows and downfalls in career, relations and life. How I wish time could be like a whiteboard where we can write with all our colors and erase everything ugly spick and span...
Story Teller | Blogging Since 2006