The Irish Days

Before almost a year, the people of the town Kildare in Ireland were looking at yet another brown-tanned Indian guy in their streets. That was exactly during 8-June-2008 to 8-Aug-2008, when I stayed there in the Derby House Hotel paying 60EURO per night (I'm puzzled why these hotel guys are not bothering much about the day), the value of which I now recognize sitting in a guest house in the Bristol city of the United Kingdom as a run-by-salary living being.

I tried to blog about my stay in Ireland. But as usual the interest faded away. I don't feel the compulsion to justify why I didn't continue with my posts, because most of the bloggers know it.

I was all alone there in Room#207 in the Derby House Hotel. I had nobody to listen to my worries or happiness (note the order). So, I logged everything in my personal notepad-turned-diary. I wrote about my lonely visits to the Dublin city; about my office hiccups; about my friendships with some Pakistanis; almost everything. The diary turned to be my best friend. After almost a year now, when I opened my diary again and read my own words- first, I felt silly about myself- second, I felt nostalgic and felt going back to Ireland.

To be frank, I feel Ireland is a heaven on the Earth; no exaggarations.

Why am I writing all these now? I have again started to think about posting my experiences in Ireland; the experiences of my fight with loneliness and frenziness in a foreign land. BUT, I'll be just copying my daily diary journals into these posts. So, I disclaim: THIS HAD BEEN AN INTERESTING STORY FOR ME. I'M NOT SURE WHETHER YOU WILL LIKE IT. THE LANGUAGE IS TOO TERSE OR EVEN KIDDISH AT TIMES (LIKE CRYING TO YOUR MOTHER); THAT FIT MY JOURNAL. NO DETAILS.

Hawww, that's primarily because of my laziness to rephrase my journals. But, it will be genuine and frank so that you will know I have gone nuts over myselves. I'm sure that you'll smile over each of my journals of how The-first-time-lonely-foreign-visitor had behaved.

Good luck reading !