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!