“Dad gave me Rs.100 and I filled 3 liters of petrol in bike. At college, we decided to bunk the last hour and had fun ”.
These were the words I found in my own hand writing in my precious diary. Diary was a very important part of my childhood and this is what I have to say about you dear diary!!!
When did it start?
During my school days, I was flipping through old newspapers and suddenly I saw my father’s diary. Vow!!! It was so much fun reading it. Though I knew it was not a good practice, I could not resist but could only secretly accomplish the task of reading it. Since then, I was fascinated by the word Diary.
What did I write??
My diary was full of emotions. It had joy, sorrow. It have love, hatred. It had fear, bravery. On the days of joyous mood, my diary had words and on sorrow days, it had pages and pages. It had pictures, it had paper cuttings, it had ME and my attitude in it.
What does it mean to me?
Diary meant a lot to me. I shared all my inner feelings with my diary. It was my companion through good and bad. Even today, when I found it,it makes me feel nostalgic.
Where is it lost?
Suddenly, now when I think back, I am lost!! When did I miss this habit from ? Where did my diary go? I am standing today clueless of my journey with it. But, I must confess that it had been a great companion and I wish to bring it back to life