Private & Confidential

I was being interviewed by the HR girl of Reliance Life Sciences. Anything she asked me was in and around blogging. “Why did you feel the need to blog? Why don’t you just write a diary?” she asked. I was a bit perplexed for two reasons. One, she was really pretty, and my eyes stuck to hers; second, this was something I hadn’t thought about myself. Blogging just happened, it did not occur to me, that I have to sit and think about it, weigh the pros and cons, and then decide.

Of course, I always loved writing a diary too. It has a personal touch to it, as it is handwritten. Perhaps I wrote a diary when I was around 12^th. Not really an appropriate time to write one, I can surely say, because college is when the most exciting things happen. Mine was a typical roller coaster ride, and every event in itself could be made into a mega-serial. So what was the problem? Big big problem! What if this diary gets into the hands of wrong people (as in dad & mom)? How can they understand the situation or circumstance, and what I was thinking at that point when I jotted something down? They freaked out, and my diary-writing days came to a sad end. I was even made to tear up the pages, lest some director chanced upon them, and converted them into a multi-starrer movie. I bid good riddance to this dangerous hobby.

Blogging just happened. It was not meant to be a substitute to writing a diary. Of course, with a diary, only those who read it freak out. With a blog, the whole world is gonna freak out (not that I say the whole world reads my blog, I just like to think that way). Although I had to put brakes on what I reveal online, I was mostly honest … and hid very few things. I blatantly revealed the villainous nature of my brother … my dad became soft on me fearing what I’ll write about him … even friends played safe. So, unknowingly, the blog turned out to be a diary … it became a vent for my frustration … an outlet for my joyous feelings … and a tool to get things done my way!

The above 2 paragraphs condensed into a couple of lines was what I told to that HR girl. She was impressed. Although the technical round was a bit challenging, yet the HR girl was impressed, and that made me happy. Even if I didn’t get the job, I would marry her. But things quite did not happen that way; I got the job, but rejected the offer. The HR girl never called me again. But if I ever write a diary … I’ll make it a point to write about the HR girl. Dad, your eyes red again?