A human birth, some folks, like the believers of the, 'Father, Son, and The Holy Spirit,' call a blessing from the divine. I don't have any opinion about it, but because I don't have iota of faith in the idea of Divine entities managing human life, I think those individuals are, pious but misled people. I don't wish to present myself as a philosopher looking down on the society as a whole, but my opinions are formed and not adopted ones. My atheistic outlook towards creation evolved very early in life, and it's based on the events unfolded each day since my twelfth year of existence.

I don't have a clue, how shaping of my psyche began, but taking stock of the events periodically, become a habit. On my fourteenth birthday, for the first time, I took a hard look at the years spent on this planet. That day it became clear to me that I did not inherit any special skills and had acquired few at best. The most important of those manifested in this way:

From very early childhood, say at six or seven, I became aware of my ability to see things clearly, memorize important events and experiences and recall them without missing any important information. The other crucial abilities that appeared in my teen years were my gift of critically viewing and understanding the environment and measuring the probability of adverse outcomes. The most important and later proved to be useful personality trait, was,-"not get intimidated by any person, events or natural occurrences". It resulted in an impression of me as a witch with some secret power. The inherited display of my stoic nature bothered everyone who had controls over my life. Whatever happened, I never wept, nor begged forgiveness or mercy, or asked for anything, including food or money. From early youth, I got pinned with a badge, -- "Obstinate and Head Strong Child". This is how I grew up with a strong personality since then, and today, at approaching fifty, I am carrying that badge proudly. Let me tell you some relevant parts of my growing up history.

Physically speaking, as a child, and also through my early youth, I remained a non-descriptive, plain female, with a muscular and well stocked solid body that looked stuffed and without the natural feminine softness or that European delicate features. My face is not ugly to look at; it never was, and frankly, it isn't the one that would launch any 9 feet Bass boat anytime of my life; nothing like Christopher Marlow wrote in Doctor Faustus a description of Helen of Troy; a beautiful a face, that supposed to have launched 1000 ships.


My skin is white as per my race, and it is course like the kid skin; soft but course looking. I don't know how acquired my walking style. From the beginning I walked like a construction worker on a high beam of a bridge or a sailor on a skiff. I walked with my feet apart, and firmly grounded to balance my body. To this day, I walk like that, and when in taking rapid strides, I look like marching with the infantry soldiers.

Well, you must have imagined my schooling by now. Imagine me in a physical personality sort of way, and you will know me little more, if you stick around and don't get bored with my notes. I call these notes, because they are periodically penned, randomly selected and have none of those qualities you see in the fiction or in the autobiographies. Besides that, very little of my mundane and insipid private life is revealed in them and I leave it to the experts and readers like you, to build my personality with the bits and pieces I am dishing out in these pages. However, if you had stuck with the reading Fyodor Dostoevsky's, "Notes From the Underground" in translation, until the end, then perhaps you would read mine. Keep in mind that these have come from the 'above the ground' episodes; quiet common in many parts of our country and may have been in front of your nose all the time. Like everyone else busy chasing our own mirages, possibly, you may have seen and ignored them.

Why then I maintained these events and episodes in my diary is a question, which I asked myself many a time, and didn't have answer, instead of that, my alter ego gave me this short analysis of my idiosyncrasies:

"You love to write and hide your soul in penned thoughts and feelings which you could not, or would not, share with anyone."

I think that is an accurate description of it. My note writing habit I think, started in the 9th grade. Then I was living with my Mother and her many- come and go boyfriends. Those experiences of co-existence with her and her male companions, must have made me build a secrete enclave of myself. That enclave became a secret world of my thoughts- sort of a storage of creative impulses of my mind. I wonder if everyone has such a place and don't seem to be aware of its existence. I think in 1865, Lewis Carroll's 'Alice' may have built her wonderland under similar circumstances, but then she lived in a better household than I did, and only thing I could come up with is this: The Notes from Over the Ground.