Another Book I Finished and Some Blog I ended up with....
Yesterday I dint write anything as I was just trying to digest all the
information received. Well - I know I can not digest them all with my
tiny brain which is so pre-occupied with its own silly complications.
Day before yesterday evening, I almost felt that I am going to qualify
for a spot in any mental asylum. I was so convinced I even got the phone
to call dada to warn him about it. With hope that he will either tell me
it was Normal or take action on it after some analysis. Well as usual-
he wasn't available and I dint get to talk to him and I haven't even
received a call back yet because I dint leave a message to send him in
panic. I waited cried growled and soon the day was over and I slept
peacefully. I hate it worst when I take my anger out on my little son
who hardly sees me during the day and instead of spending some quality
time with him I am setting goals and squeezing plans into it. It is sad,
very sad- pathetic.
I also finished reading How Opal Mehta Got .....By Kaavya Viswanathan.
It was hilarious- Last night as was in the later half of the book I
actually burst laughing imagining the Mehta parents clicking pictures of
their daughter kissing a boy for the first time. It was hilarious.
Well, as I remembered there were some allegations on the author for
copying extracts from various other books. I started my research and it
was funny to read those extracts and comparisons. I do not blame Kaavya
because if she did not write this book I would have never found out
about the other books. And It listed some of the conversations in the
book with no relevance to the characters or the story line and I can
give that as inspirational or learning than copying. A round of applause
to Kaavya, what a wonderful name. I wonder if she every writes a book or
poems which literary meaning of her name.
While doing my research I ended up reading blogs from other people and
landed to a blog of Sweta Srivastava Vikram who happens to be living in
NY City and a she is an author recently published a book named Pabulum,
A collection of Poems. WOW! It brought me back to me plan of publishing
a book some day. I had completely forgotten all about it while raising a
family and living my corporate dream. I looked at her book at Amazon
and wondered if I could get a glimpse of few pages, just to figure out
her style in poetry. Unfortunately no I couldn't. I will see if it is
there in Barnes & Nobles and I can acquire a copy. I was mighty
impressed by her writing on the blogs. Very
what-I-Like-To-Read-And-Write kind. On the same note I started my
research for getting my book published on my own. I remember the
Poetry.com kept sending me letters for publishing my poem on a book
which we consider a marketing stunt and never opened the letter I
received later. I remember how excited papa got when he saw that letter.
He read it over and over to me so that I agree with him and send my poem
with a check of some $40 attached with it. Oh it doesn't matter - I can
publish them if I want to by spending some $500.00 and get 20 copies to
share with my close once - the publisher might post it on Amazon and
Barnes & Nobles websites and I might even sell few copies. Sounds like a
distant dream or a futile plan right. Pity. While I finished reading the
book, I started to wonder what my parents thought about me. Did my
father ever had a dream for me or my mom, did they ever think what if I
do not do this - or that what will come out of me. I felt like grabbing
the phone and calling them right away asking them all these. I am so
sure they had plans for Dada, many of them. Papa always pictured him at
IIT Kharagpur and it became a reality. Hell why on earth I am thinking
about all that. I am on my own now but shouldn't I ask them while I can-
Just curious. May be they always knew what Dada was capable of and also
the rest of us. Good for them and for us. Though he did tell me many
times how proud he has felt for me - I need to know for what? My life
scores and achievements are No big deal.
I am getting lost in my own web - Is it that I wish to hear something to
confirm my doubts or make a discovery. Either way it wouldn't make me
feel any worse so what is the harm. May be I will call them little later
at the lunch time and ask them. It has been a long time since I even
spoke to papa. I am planning to send him prints of my blog so that he
can get some glimpse of my life, which I have mercilessly separated from
them. I am sorry.
Sweta read my blog and she is very funny. She wouldn't have read it if I
dint ask her to print out some color pages from the first few blogs. She
was waiting for one of his clients and had nothing to do much. While she
was carrying my folder she started flipping through it.
The first comment was: Yaar! What do you write? Where the hell do you
get all the time - They pay you for writing the blogs. Where you write
what you ate, drank and felt about the day.
The second one was: (with a big Laugh both when she starts and ends the
sentence) you write as if you have boyfriends sitting there to read
about you.
WOW! What compliments I get from my first few readers. Dolly di is so
busy with her life and work these days that I am sure she isn't reading
it anymore and Sweta is never going to read them back unless I prompt
her that I have written about her.
Thanks for all the encouragement.
Later.............
information received. Well - I know I can not digest them all with my
tiny brain which is so pre-occupied with its own silly complications.
Day before yesterday evening, I almost felt that I am going to qualify
for a spot in any mental asylum. I was so convinced I even got the phone
to call dada to warn him about it. With hope that he will either tell me
it was Normal or take action on it after some analysis. Well as usual-
he wasn't available and I dint get to talk to him and I haven't even
received a call back yet because I dint leave a message to send him in
panic. I waited cried growled and soon the day was over and I slept
peacefully. I hate it worst when I take my anger out on my little son
who hardly sees me during the day and instead of spending some quality
time with him I am setting goals and squeezing plans into it. It is sad,
very sad- pathetic.
I also finished reading How Opal Mehta Got .....By Kaavya Viswanathan.
It was hilarious- Last night as was in the later half of the book I
actually burst laughing imagining the Mehta parents clicking pictures of
their daughter kissing a boy for the first time. It was hilarious.
Well, as I remembered there were some allegations on the author for
copying extracts from various other books. I started my research and it
was funny to read those extracts and comparisons. I do not blame Kaavya
because if she did not write this book I would have never found out
about the other books. And It listed some of the conversations in the
book with no relevance to the characters or the story line and I can
give that as inspirational or learning than copying. A round of applause
to Kaavya, what a wonderful name. I wonder if she every writes a book or
poems which literary meaning of her name.
While doing my research I ended up reading blogs from other people and
landed to a blog of Sweta Srivastava Vikram who happens to be living in
NY City and a she is an author recently published a book named Pabulum,
A collection of Poems. WOW! It brought me back to me plan of publishing
a book some day. I had completely forgotten all about it while raising a
family and living my corporate dream. I looked at her book at Amazon
and wondered if I could get a glimpse of few pages, just to figure out
her style in poetry. Unfortunately no I couldn't. I will see if it is
there in Barnes & Nobles and I can acquire a copy. I was mighty
impressed by her writing on the blogs. Very
what-I-Like-To-Read-And-Write kind. On the same note I started my
research for getting my book published on my own. I remember the
Poetry.com kept sending me letters for publishing my poem on a book
which we consider a marketing stunt and never opened the letter I
received later. I remember how excited papa got when he saw that letter.
He read it over and over to me so that I agree with him and send my poem
with a check of some $40 attached with it. Oh it doesn't matter - I can
publish them if I want to by spending some $500.00 and get 20 copies to
share with my close once - the publisher might post it on Amazon and
Barnes & Nobles websites and I might even sell few copies. Sounds like a
distant dream or a futile plan right. Pity. While I finished reading the
book, I started to wonder what my parents thought about me. Did my
father ever had a dream for me or my mom, did they ever think what if I
do not do this - or that what will come out of me. I felt like grabbing
the phone and calling them right away asking them all these. I am so
sure they had plans for Dada, many of them. Papa always pictured him at
IIT Kharagpur and it became a reality. Hell why on earth I am thinking
about all that. I am on my own now but shouldn't I ask them while I can-
Just curious. May be they always knew what Dada was capable of and also
the rest of us. Good for them and for us. Though he did tell me many
times how proud he has felt for me - I need to know for what? My life
scores and achievements are No big deal.
I am getting lost in my own web - Is it that I wish to hear something to
confirm my doubts or make a discovery. Either way it wouldn't make me
feel any worse so what is the harm. May be I will call them little later
at the lunch time and ask them. It has been a long time since I even
spoke to papa. I am planning to send him prints of my blog so that he
can get some glimpse of my life, which I have mercilessly separated from
them. I am sorry.
Sweta read my blog and she is very funny. She wouldn't have read it if I
dint ask her to print out some color pages from the first few blogs. She
was waiting for one of his clients and had nothing to do much. While she
was carrying my folder she started flipping through it.
The first comment was: Yaar! What do you write? Where the hell do you
get all the time - They pay you for writing the blogs. Where you write
what you ate, drank and felt about the day.
The second one was: (with a big Laugh both when she starts and ends the
sentence) you write as if you have boyfriends sitting there to read
about you.
WOW! What compliments I get from my first few readers. Dolly di is so
busy with her life and work these days that I am sure she isn't reading
it anymore and Sweta is never going to read them back unless I prompt
her that I have written about her.
Thanks for all the encouragement.
Later.............
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