Way back in eleventh grade, I remember using the word preposterous in a casual conversation, and being made fun of. It’s not passion for words that I remember that episode for; the memory etched permanently in my head; but the absolute un-awareness of it, the surprise that I felt at having said something that my peers had inexplicably labeled as bookish and pretentious.

Now when I write, I try being that self again, unaware of perceptions and ignorant of molds and expectations. Of course, it’s impossible. It has been for long. To unlearn is harder – we learn that the hard way.

I love writing, I try to write. I enjoy reading, I do that often. You dear readers, I hope, will fit somewhere in between.

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