I woke up with an uneasy feeling in my stomach, the good kind. It was finally here - the day I had been waiting for about a month and half now. But to me it felt like this was what I had been waiting for all my life. I was moving to Mumbai with a new job in hand and a few dreams safely hidden beneath my eyelashes. I didn't realise these dreams completely yet, just felt their fidgety presence and the excitement they instilled in me. It seemed unreal, like a childhood fantasy coming true. Growing up through my childhood years, I'd seen pictures of my my friends posing in front of the Gateway of India or chilling in their shorts at Juhu. I only began traveling when I was fifteen and to places that I could easily count off on my fingers. More than anything else, the writer in me had her hopes pinned to this change in my life. A part of me believed this was the answer to my increasingly frequent writer block issues. I was desperate for a fresh start, a do over. I had made too...
A fresh start at writing. Yes, again! Thanks to my procrastinating skills. Although, I am sure, this will be more spontaneous than my last effort, considering I scribble a lot these days. Comparatively! :P