I am lazy......but I want money too!

Yeah. I want money too...we all do! In this wonderful and beautiful gift of life that we have
received, we all crave for a lot many wonderful and beautiful things that money can buy, if only we had all the money that we would ever need! The mere prospect of making money, or rather, making a lot of money, is very very appealing. But the requisite investment of time and hard work for the said purpose is a little difficult to achieve.

Now they say you can make money out of your hobby, well I say why not? But the question does remain that if a hobby is going to earn you a few quick bucks, would you call it a hobby anymore? Look at it this way, you have hobbies to get away from the daily grind and monotone...but when you try to make money out of your hobby, where is the getting away?? Your hobby becomes your daily grind and monotone....how then will you still enjoy it? So, oh great talkers of the world, please explain to me what you mean when you say you can make money out of your hobby and enjoy it too!?
I read somewhere that if you can find out what you love to do, what you have always loved to do, you can make money out of it....uh-huh? It sounds so simple and yet, when you try to sit to think about it.....if you could have made money with what you have always loved to do....you would have already made it, right? Then where is it that we go wrong? I think, we salivate for easy money, is where we go wrong.....when you read such articles that tell you that you can make money out of your hobbies, money making suddenly does not look so tough and drab anymore and the hard work and the perseverance it entails is momentarily forgotten....but does it really work that way?
Any endeavor towards money making has to be disciplined and involves a lot of sacrifices....sab ko sab kuch nahi milta is duniya mein....and its true...don't believe me? Try it yourself......

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A Break In The Pattern

The train stops. She looks around. It is a big station, large and open, nothing like the big city railway stations that she has seen. This station is surrounded by lush greenery as far as the eye can see. There is a chill in the air. And a sense of belonging. She breathes it in, deeply. She walks towards the end of the platform to the foot-overbridge that will take her out of the station. A few taxis and auto rickshaws are lined up near the exit, and she hires one at random. The driver helps her stow her one bag near her feet, while she sits to one side of the wide seat, as if she is sharing space with someone. Because she is used to taking up only so much space – always in a corner, trying not to make her presence felt. Now as she thinks this, she moves a little towards the centre of the seat, as if to affirm to herself that she is now travelling all by herself, for the first time in her life. You wouldn’t really know it now, to look at her, but she is scared out of h...

The Past That Binds...

The sound of the raindrops hitting the window panes in a quiet residential part of a small town is so different from that in a big city. That is the thought in her mind now, as she looks out of her kitchen window. The trees around her property are thick and dark as they stand drenched in the heavy downpour. It is the second day in a row that heavy rains continue to lash their area. She has heard in the morning on the radio that the rain will continue for a couple more days. It is good, she thinks, that she has just picked up her groceries, having moved in only a few days ago. From the small gap in the trees, she can see across to the blue-walled house, just as she could see as a child. It is drenched too. The creepers outside its kitchen wall making a brave attempt at holding on through the heavy downpour. She can see its kitchen window clearly from here. How amazing, she thinks, how few things change over a period of time, although everything is chan...

What Begins, Must End…

After three days of near continuous rain, today has dawned bright and glorious. The sun shines gently on the rain-washed, still dewy trees, and the birds sing a beautiful melody to welcome a brand new day. She sits on a rocker on the porch with a cup of coffee. In her lap is a book she has borrowed from the local library. But her mind is on the phone call she had with her daughter last night. Her confident, independent daughter, who is far, far away in another country. Her daughter, a doctor, who, at almost seven months pregnant, worries all the time about her mother. Which is why the girl has arranged to have a landline connection and a Wi-Fi connection installed here and sent her a smartphone. ‘I want to be able to talk to you anytime I want,’ her daughter says; ‘face to face’ . Krishna is not much used to technology. But their calls make her daughter worry less; and in her present state, she wants her daughter to worry as less as possible. For what it’s worth, h...

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