Growing up
I know I haven’t written anything in a long time. I’d get this instinctive impulse to write something, and I would sit down and conjure up some pseudo intriguing opening line and then... crickets. Nothing but an empty space. My exams came and went by, and all I remember is sitting down with my books for hours on end and drawing a blank when the time came. And then the good lord brought about my much-awaited holidays, and I was just about to let the pleasure of nothingness sink-in, when I felt a hand grip my throat and push me back into reality. Placements in July. I am expected to get a job in the real world in a month and be a grown-up. I feel like I should know all the answers, and yet I'm still asking questions. I’m supposed to own an apartment, make my own coffee and pay my own bills. I have never written a cheque before in my life. I have a licence, but I’m yet to summon enough courage to drive a real car on a real road. Heck, I manage to get into an accident on a bumper-car! ...