Dearest gentle readers, I’ve never been particularly good at writing or coming up with ideas, but Khayali Pulav, that’s my speciality. (Maybe I should just rename my blog to Khayali Pulav .) With full confidence that no one but I will be reading these blog posts, I’m going to take complete liberty in writing (or rather, pouring my heart out ) here. Sorry, not sorry. "I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet, and another fig was a brilliant professor...and beyond and beyond were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest..." Sylvia Plath, The ...