‘‘They don’t count me in those who are among the world’s rich, but my life deserves to be celebrated.’’

Isn’t it sad how I can resume my life in this one line? How I can so effortlessly relate to it?

I am what the westerners would call a single young lady, and what the east consider as highly ambitious independent career driven girl who’ll end up alone. But I am hoping to have a ring on my finger and walk around with my husband on my left arm and a real Chanel bag on my right.

I’ve been plotting around the idea of writing for too long now until the other week when I was at a table with a cup of coffee at House of Fraser with a book in my hand sitting like the loner that I am, whose passion for reading has probably cut her off from the rest of the world. A gentleman walked up to me and said, ‘‘It’s my favorite book too.’’  I replied, ‘‘I yet have to decide if it’s my favorite book or not.’’ Surprising myself and taking the conversation further I asked him, ‘‘What you do for a living?’’ ‘‘I write.’’ I instantly got excited and said I’ve always wanted to write too. ‘‘Why have you not started yet then?’’ ‘‘Just waiting for the right condition. There is too much traffic in my life.’’  He then said something that hopefully might be a turning point in my life ‘‘A writer who waits for the IDEAL condition under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.’’

These words haunted me so much I decided to put my book down and reach for a sheet of paper. I grabbed a pen and wondered where to start. Logically and unoriginally I decided to go back to MY beginning. The day when I was born into the family as the ‘‘Fifth child’’. From what I’ve been told, my birth was very normal. No wise men or anyone worth mentioning attended. I once asked to be told the story of the day I was born and I was told nonchalantly that I cried for a bit when I was thrown on this earth. I’ve always believed I’ve protested with God about the reasons I was sent here until I heard the adhan in my ear saying that it wasn’t only my father & mother who wanted me to be here but God himself. Behave while you’re here, I was told, until God needs you back. So the life that followed afterwards was nothing but Normal. I didn’t choose to be here but here I am roaming aimlessly trying to give a sense of direction to my life.

I don’t care if your dad is the sultan of Brunei or if you are ‘‘sheikh’’ charming- you happened to be born into a privileged family. What you do with that truth is completely up to you. I’m here because I want to be with you but if I didn’t, all the money in the world wouldn’t change my feelings for you. I don’t want to be defined by what I do maybe I’d like to be defined by what I am. When you feel bored read my  random rambling on my blog. Hope you enjoy the read.