All evening, I had several one liners that I wanted to choose from to begin writing this post. And suddenly, I don’t remember what they were. Ah, well.
Some weeks ago, I realized that today, June 3, I would complete four years as a blogger. My fingers have been itching since then; I was reminded of how I would eagerly wait for my birthday to come, counting the days and getting all excited. Well, that was several years ago, a time when greeting cards were still the paper kind, when nothing was prefixed with an e- to it and when I knew I would get several of those little gifts and I could wear a “colour dress” to school and give chocolates and have cake and all that. Well, years go by and let me suffice to say that I don’t much welcome November anymore. Except for the cold.
And so, for several weeks, I was itching to write this post. Four years to the date. I don’t quite remember why I began to write a blog. Those days, I didn’t have a laptop or a digital camera and would go to a cyber centre to write posts, get the photos scanned and upload them. I could not write when I had the terrible urge to; the diaries were the resort then. I suppose I began to blog then because that was the latest thing; I suppose I merely thought it cool.
I remember the first comment I got. There were times when I wished a lot of people would comment on my writing. I wanted a lot of people to read me rambling on. I wanted to know who read my stories and from where.
Today, there is a little live feed thingy on my blog that lets me know where I get the hits from. I suppose all the foreign ones happen when I am fast asleep. There are many from the US, New York, California, Wisconsin, Texas, some from Karachi, Copenhagen, Spain, New Delhi, a whole lot from Bangalore, Hyderabad and several other towns in the state, the country, the world. Some places, I know who could be reading, others, I can only imagine. I wish there were faces I could put on to the people. Not many leave comments, but I know that it’s ok. I am not much of a commenter myself, on the many blogs that I read. I know that a lot of people read what I write though. Family does; it comes up in conversations. I know that several of my colleague and a lot of my friends read. I know that there are several people out there who take time off to read it. On last count, a few hours ago, I had four followers; I very much appreciate you all adding me on your reading lists and some others for putting a link to mine on their sites. Thank you all, wherever in the world you are. I appreciate that, when there are so many other things that you could have seen and done.
When I started, I had not imagined how much of a release, an addiction this would be. The blog has seen me through some of my most defined phases in my life. When I was at uni, I would blog almost every other day, waiting for hours at the tiny cyber centre next to my hostel. My days in Express were great too, that was when I still had some ideals left.
I think this is the 281 post, not many, for a four-year period, I must say. Book and movie reviews, travelogues---a lot enjoyed by many, I am told---and poetry, photographs, several stories, random, vague posts, philosophical ones, there have been many. I have never revealed my personal life much or shared personal pictures but there have been people who could guess what I was going through. I have always been moody, and no where does it reflect more than in my writings in this space.
Writing to me is the way I breathe. I need it almost like it was a life force. And this blog has been my release, my escape, my own space all the while. There have been moments when I have managed to keep my sanity around me because I was writing here. Words, of the written kind, always have done that for me.
My life, my rules. Four years ago, when I was sitting in an internet centre picking out a random template and choosing a random name, I never thought I would take it this far. Sometimes I wish I had chosen a different name, something more sophisticated; I know I could have thought of something better. The title, my blog itself, has been used and thrown on my face during arguments, what I write, who I write about has led to several allegations, ugly scenes. The blog has given me friends and good acquaintances, it has, even more, led to a lot of fights and heartache for me and other people. I regret that the most. But if I were given a choice to change the name, I wouldn’t. It is not too great a name, but it is still, my life and I live it by rules I impose on myself.
All the posts that I write meaning to lash out, in a moment of my infamous temper, are never put up on the site. They remain for a while as drafts and are soon deleted. I have a lot of things that I would write about, but I don’t, knowing well that I shall regret it after a few days. And I thank my “critics” (you know who you are) for keeping me in check J
And there it is. Four full years of venting and ranting and just taking up my bit of cyber space. I know I shall never stop writing; if not here, someplace else. There will be many more friends I shall make, some non-friends too. But what I write, I write from the heart, things I feel and think at the moment I am writing them.
Thank you all, for being there, even if most of you are silent on the reactions side. Do keep coming back. Let me, at times, tell you a story, or show you a place, or give an opinion or share my thoughts. Welcome to my life.
Today is also Ajji, my grandmother’s 79th birthday. Until recently I didn’t know I was her favourite. That brings to my mind, a smile and several memories of growing up. Happy birthday Ajji, may you all have many more healthy years.