My response to “Tell me something about yourself”

Twenty seven and half.

That’s the number of times I have gone around the Sun; 26 billion kilometres is the distance I have travelled through space since I appeared on the planet. I have lived on both sides of the birth of internet, witnessed mobile phones evolve from 2kg screen-less devices to sleek handhelds more powerful than computers, read Tolstoy, Orwell, Tolkien, Rand, Coetzee, Hemingway, Conan Doyle, Benjamin Franklin, Marquez, and many more, dropped out of college, failed four different start-ups, worked at two others, fallen in love twice and out of it once, set foot in seven countries, changed school five times, built many friendships, broken some.

According to astrology, I belong to one of the only twelve kinds of people that live on Earth and my future, like everyone else’s, is predicted and printed everyday in the “Horoscope” section of the dailies. My mother thinks I am irresponsible and my sister believes me to be selfish but both still love me. My dad believes in every world-changing start-up idea I come up with and is always supportive. My first impression is that of a snob whereas people who have known me closely tend to think that I am a nice and helpful person and those who have had the misfortune to work with me mostly consider me an asshole. I take immense pleasure in being mean to people and more often than not my go-to responses are sarcastic.

Now that I have painted a very vague and somewhat negative picture of mine, let me also tell you a bit about the one who is responsible for me writing and updating this blog. She is a quaint little dentist who happens to only see the good in me and ignore the bad. She loves me dearly and pesters me even more to keep writing. So for her and only her, I am putting this one out.

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