An M.Sc, MBA ...my journey began approximately thirty years ago and hopefully ends while I am still standing on both feet.From rags to riches to rags again and praying the cycle repeats itself; mine is a story of hope and despair in equal measure.From losing my mother at an early age, to losing my brother and father in quick succession, from being a successful entrepreneur to giving up everything to enroll in the Army, from being the owner of a leading medical institution and a restaurateur, from dabbling in the automobile industry to being a financial analyst and a columnist, to a theatre actor…from being called mad , a visionary and a retard and finally from being a millionaire many times over to near bankruptcy has taken me just one half of a lifetime ( I say this with a degree of certainty as my medical reports tell me that I am very unlikely to keep standing on both feet post government retirement age)…the final half starts now.
I have been told by my friends to write as to how I ended up ‘writing’, in the first place. Well, the answer is I haven’t got a clue. I had realised from an early age, that I was the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was never cut out to be an environmental biologist or an efficient corporate or a successful entrepreneur and my degrees would sooner rather than later end up as decorative illustrations on my visiting card.
Well, for that matter I still am not sure what I am cut out for but writing seems to be the front runner and I say this because I can write on anything anywhere anytime, I can write while I am talking, I can write in a crowd or in solitude, I can write if I am starved or satiated if I am happy or sad, I can just write. Well, finding readers to read my writing is another matter altogether, however that has never come in the way of me putting pen to paper.People say writers don’t make money nowadays, well to be frank I never knew they did …now or before. O’ Henry died in utter poverty, P.B. Shelley of hunger, Edgar Allen Poe was found lying dead on a street in Baltimore, penniless, Oscar Wilde passed away in a hotel room, alone and bankrupt…to name a few. But that didn’t stop people from taking to writing nor readers away from reading..
Writing is such a lonely process, you spend hours nurturing your characters, smiling, crying and sniffling with your creations. But that’s cheese cake compared to what you have to face next…the publishing process. If you thought writing was creative, try finding a publisher for your creation, it’s positively an extremely negative experience. J.K. Rowling was rejected 12 times, ‘Gone with the wind’; by Margaret Mitchell 38 times before being finally published …just to name a few. These stories kept me going; finally after a year of waiting, hoping and praying, I am going to be a published author. Other than sports, where you are judged directly by your achievements, in other fields you are judged by what people think of you. A singer can be a rockstar irrespective of the quality of his or her vocal chords only if the people want them to be; similar is the case for any actor to turn a superstar or a rookie novelist to turn into a bestselling author, it’s how people judge and accept you. I don’t know what fate has in store for me; all I know is …that death is inevitable…for me, for the beggar on the street and for the most affluent person on earth. The destination is the same, it’s the journey that matters, and I am happy that I did give a shot at living and not surviving. As I lay myself down for your acceptance and approval, I pray and hope I can bring a little laughter to your lives through my work.
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Smiles, laughter and a few sniffles guaranteed
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