I hate it when I don’t get credit for being good at things- my mom says ‘It’s simply in the genes’. Aarghh. ‘Did u win a debating competition? You had to; of course, your dad was such a natural at it!’ ‘Oh so you won the singing competition? Of course, your dad’s love for music has made your ear sensitive to the sounds-’ ‘Are you the volleyball captain? You simply HAD to be! Your mother was, too!’ ‘Do you stich? Do you knit? Do you apply mehendi? Are you good at studies? Do you have good communication skills? AAARGHH. Same answer. ‘Gift’. ‘Hereditary’. My mom tells me that all that I am is simply a product of her skills and intelligence passed down. That is so depressing! I have not done ANYTHING that my mom hasn’t already excelled at. There is nothing LEFT to, either. Sometimes I think I’m no good. Damn.

I used to think that warming up before actually playing volleyball was a waste of time. It was beyond me, WHY our coach wanted us to simply run around the ground, stretch our limbs and jump as high as we could above the net- only to get exhausted before we even picked up the ball! Having only two hours of practice, I used to hate ‘wasting’ the first hour running in 6 different ways. I used to associate warm-up with those teams which were really ‘good’, and could afford to waste time in walking on their toes around the court. Hehe...I was wrong.

I hate waiting for inspiration to ‘hit’.

Narration is such a skill. It requires such intimate understanding of human psychology! Also, there are types. And kinds.(I never really understood the difference between the two anyway) Narrations meant for kids, I think, have to be most intelligent. Imagine trying to catch the attention of a 6 year old! Although I never read ANY books at that age, I am positive some actually do. Also, it makes for such a wonderful reading when the narration is crisp and witty. And when the narrator uses words in a way to make it seem like they were actually invented for that sentence, it makes for an exceptional experience. Beautiful.