At least, I hope they're seven things you didn't know. The problem is that I forget what I've written about previously... I just hope that those who've read my blog also forget what they've read! :)
1. I love dogs and I love kids, but they have to belong to other people so that I can go home without them. It’s being responsible for them 24/7 that petrifies me. (Aside: I did have a dog, a beautiful Welsh Border Collie. I loved her very much and was devastated when she died of cancer at the ridiculous age of 4. Never again.)
2. As a teenager, my best friend and I, along with another girl (whose name I absolutely cannot remember now) formed a writers group. We called ourselves “Sulakshya” – a name formed from the first syllables of our own names. This compound word serendipitously even had a meaning (“Lucky”). Our aim was to collaborate on writing stories for children, get them published, become well-known authors and make a lot of money (no, we didn’t have our collective heads in the clouds – why do you ask?). Nothing came of Sulakshya, I can’t imagine why, but we did get to spend many pleasant hours brainstorming, sitting under a shady tree in a park or a college campus (i.e, anywhere that had shady trees not frequented by shady youths).
3. I am not at all competitive, but something about a writing prompt set by someone else (whether for a competition or not) gets my creative juices flowing – if not quite a waterfall, at least a trickle.
4. I add my name to “Awaaz” petitions regularly, but actually I don’t see how an online petition could help mitigate truly dire situations. For instance, collecting one million signatures protesting the horrifying actions of IS militants isn’t going to save even one person in their grip from dying a terrible death. Is it? Those one million signatures might bring the petition to the attention of politicians in the UK, maybe get it discussed in Parliament - but that still isn’t going to save the life of even one person kidnapped by the IS. Right?
5. I lurk on a lot of websites that I really like, but usually don’t leave a comment if I can’t think of anything more intelligent to say than “Thank you for sharing” (unless it was shared personally with me and only me) or if I’m one of fifty dozen people all saying “Great read!” or “Well written!”. No value addition, no point. I also don’t leave abusive comments – even if I’m sorely tempted!
6. For all the reading that I’ve done over the years, I’ve never joined a Book Club, nor ever felt the need to. Usually the most that I want to say to friends about a book I’ve liked is “Read it, it’s really good!” I hate the idea of dissecting the plot or the characters or the writing – most of all, I loathe having to explain (or listen to explanations) as to “why this is funny”. Maybe it’s to do with a traumatic episode in the 8th standard at school, where Mark Twain’s short story “My Watch” (which I had thoroughly enjoyed reading) was analysed to a lingering death by the completely humour-free English teacher.
7. I’ve never been to the Opera. It’s on my bucket list, but I refuse to go without mini-binoculars (opera glasses?) because those are essential to the experience, right? (“Wrong” does not count as an answer in this instance.)
PS: I've copied this off my Facebook, because while I promised to post more often, I didn't promise that the posts would be exclusive to this blog! hah! Sneaky, perhaps, but those who are unable to write as expansively and comprehensively as a volcano spews ash are forced to resort to such underhand methods. Sue me.