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On the highs and lows of life and the evolution of this blog (i.e. Rafia likes to ramble)

I noticed that every time I Write a positive or happy post, it is almost always followed by a melancholic one. I don’t plan on this, but it ends up happening that way.

But before I get into the sad stuff

For those of you who read my last post, my performance went well… I think. My cousin who attended the event made a video recording and sent it to all my Family in India on Whatsapp. So if it sucked, he wouldn’t have done that, right? I don’t know. Maybe my family likes to make fun of me behind my back. I can never judge the worthiness of my own work or efforts, so if you’re lucky (or unlucky) enough to catch a wind of my performance, you can let me know what you think… or not.

Now, onto the sad stuff!

Well, I guess it’s not really that sad. I’m still alive and everyone I know and love who was alive yesterday is still alive today, but I got some disappointing news this morning. I was melancholic for a while. Mr. Rafia said it was for the best and the rest of my immediate family assured me that God has something better planned for me. I do believe it, but I needed to take some time to sit on this news.

The good thing is that I did not cry. That’s a positive sign that I take very seriously. I was somewhat shocked and had a bit of a chip to my ego, but after hours of routine, I’ve come to the conclusion that ya just never know. I think God has a sense of humour, an idea I’ve been toying around with for some time now. It takes me a while to get the joke, sure. But in retrospect, even I have to laugh at my naivety and desperation. You might think something is going to happen a particular way. You go to bed at night, dreaming up scenarios, practicing your lines (I cannot be the only one who does this)… but then when you finally wake up, it ends up not going the way you had envisioned it.

I am dumbfounded (at myself mostly), but I am not upset anymore. My only one lament is that I seem to waste my imagination on pointless endeavors. Why can’t I use my imagination for something more productive, like, say, writing a novel?

Today’s “situation” reminded me of a post I had written about 7 months ago – The Sting of Rejection. Pretty much the same issue. I thought about re-posting it, but decided that I would write a new post. I wanted to see if there was any change in me and my writing since then.

I think the jury’s out on that one.

But in another matter, I am beginning to see this blog as a really long conversation, which absolutely confounds me. It’s turning into a public “Dear Diary.” I don’t know if y’all are just humouring me (have you joined my family in making fun of me behind my back?). But why would you do that? You’re not getting anything in return! Nevertheless, for some reason or another, I feel compelled to continue this very strange conversation.

Maybe I am finally ready to write that memoir “The Girl Who Never Went to Disneyland (or World)”.

But knowing me, I probably won’t. I have to say though that it did feel good to at least write that I might ;)




This post first appeared on Cake & Cows, please read the originial post: here

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On the highs and lows of life and the evolution of this blog (i.e. Rafia likes to ramble)

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