It all dates back to
the year 2004. Settled in the new
country and in my new role as a housewife, life for me was too exciting. Bringing up my three kids, watching them
grow, each day brought in new hopes and happiness. But soon I started feeling something amiss in
my life. Was it my job? An immature
self of mine came up with. ‘Yes,’ I reasoned and concluded. And
that was precisely when I took charge of my life what until then had simply
passed by me unnoticed. I realized, I never had any dreams. And within a couple of years, I settled in my
new job, thinking about the future career prospects. By then, my little ones were no more toddlers
and my elder one turned into a teenager.
I could squeeze out some ‘me time’ what I thought would help me at my
work front. But soon, it dawned on me
that I had already missed my boat. The
job, what I had expected to be thriving and exciting turned just the
opposite. It was then my new developed
hobby came to my rescue. Me, delving
into reading, spurred in me an urge to write.
I felt I had so much to write, so much to share and so much to
learn. My pent up emotions needed a
vent. And that was the start of it. Slowly and gradually, my new dream of writing
captured my heart and soul, inspiring me.
As said and believed, whatever the mind can conceive and believe, it can
achieve, the writer in me had taken birth.
This is a post for Blogadda
