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Autobiography of a Journal- Priyall Parekh

I’m someone who knows every dark and embarrassing secret of the little girl that trusts me. I know she slipped on a banana peel and fell on a heap of mud; I know she hates her cousin sister and I also know she would love to have a golden retriever named ‘Tom”. She may not tell her friends how upset she is, but to me? she will pour her heart out and keep scribbling everything that comes to her mind. Sometimes, I’m just a place where she can dump random thoughts, and sometimes, she treats me like I’m the only one who listens to her. I’m her journal, similar to the million other journals owned by children around the world. I’m the loyal kind, one who refuses to judge her decisions and crazy antics. I usually keep my mouth shut, even though I believe she should stand up to the bullies who keep harassing her in school.

It all started when my appearance was nothing but a plain pink cover. The little girl, Priyall, saw me and begged her mother to buy me. Her joy knew no bounds when she finally convinced her mother, and she took me home, and started decorating me with glitter and frills. Quoting her seven-year-old self, ‘Everything is better with glitter’. I’m a pretty fat journal, and she was not one to write frequently as she started growing up. There was even a sad period of time when she completely forgot about me for seven months. Nonetheless, she still adores me, and I’m incredibly grateful to have been something who knows her happiest memories.

Priyall Parekh

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