13 years
ago, on this day, I started this blog on a whim. What started in the beginning
as an outlet to keep myself from being bored, soon turned into something that
has been a constant throughout. Even through my prolonged disappearances and
the false promises to be a regular, this space has always been there at the
back of my mind, like a long-lost friend, waiting for me to reach out to her.
Pic Source - Magma Digital
This
blog has seen me evolve from an amateur writer to someone who can express
herself clearly. It has seen me through relationships, friendships, life’s ups
and downs, happy memories, sad ones, almost everything that has made me into
the person I am today. And my evolution can clearly be seen in my writing as
well. When I read those posts written in 2006 to the posts that I write now, I
can see the difference myself. No, I am not saying that I am ashamed of the old
posts. They were written by the girl who had her head in the clouds and stars
in her eyes. They were written by the girl who was hot-headed and always wanted
to please everyone even while putting herself at an inconvenience. They were
written by the girl who was immature and idealistic. They were written by the
girl who had a tune in her head, a spring in her step and a story always in her
mind. They were written by the girl who was learning what it was to step into
the big bad world and learn what it was to be independent.
You
know, sometimes I miss the older versions of me. Especially the happy-go-lucky
version, the one without a care about anything in the world, the one who knew
she could do whatever she wanted. This was the version of me who was gung-ho
about trying new things, having new experiences, etc. I partied every weekend,
binge ate every given opportunity and basically treated my body like I owned
it. Night-outs were the order of the day (err.. night!) and the next day was
the usual, office, routine, up and about, swinging endless cups of coffee, red
bull and other such energy providing drinks. Impromptu trips were planned over
drunken nights, and impulsive decisions were taken only not to be followed
through and sometimes very rarely followed through. Vacations followed standard
steps - take the cheapest flight, rough it out at the reasonably priced hotels
and live in the moment, no planning, no sticking to a schedule, one backpack to
fit everything and budget was the way to go. Life decisions could wait,
planning for the future could wait and the main thing in life was living in the
moment, having fun.
But
now I “think” I am a lot more grounded. Plenty of things have changed from back
then. My definition of fun has changed a lot. Maybe growing older does that to
you. Marriage, a child, job, career, running a household, making it a home, these
things now take priority over reading, dancing, writing. At the beginning of
this year, much like every year, I took up the reading challenge and challenged
myself to read 25 books. A friend had commented that if that happens with a
baby in tow, she would be impressed. At that point, I thought, come on it is just 2 books
a month and 24 books will just whizz by. We are now in the 9th month
of the year. I have read exactly 5 books to this date for the year and none of
them were life-changing or heavy-duty. Rather, they were watered down versions
of chick-lit. And honestly, it doesn’t even cross my mind until I see someone post
about a book they read. It has been years since I went out to a club. I don’t remember
when I last danced. Like I said, priorities have changed. Life now craves for
the mundane, the ordinary, the routine.
This
blog is one of those routine things. It’s like a deep-rooted tradition, if not
a post regularly, at least a post a year. When I completed the post on
Ekalavya, almost 2 years after I had written part 1, I was pleased to say the
least. It had been sitting in my drafts, in my mind and every single time I opened
my laptop, it would remind me that I hadn’t yet finished the post on Ekalavya. It
is definitely not something that I would say is my best work. But it is a start
after ages of not having penned anything.
For
the longest time, there was this deep sense of unrest within me. Like something
was nagging my soul. Words that would form and then disappear. Sentences that
would start and then vanish. When I started writing again, those flutters of
strife started fading. I felt contented and instantly calm.
People
emote in a variety of ways.
Some
talk. Some cry. For a few it is through the arts – music, dance, painting. For some
others it is through actions.
Me –
I write!
