It’s hard to take out time and sit and write. At times, I
just find it boring, totally contrary to my otherwise happening life where I go
out, shop, watch movies, roam around, eat, dance and do what not. But then when
I actually sit and write, I realize the immense pleasure that I get from it, those
subtle moments when I am with myself and those imaginary characters of mine. We,
at times talk for hours and yet end up with nothing so fruitful. But then, this
is fun in its own sense.
