(Image: Taken at Elliot's Beach, Chennai, a few weekends ago)
When you sift the chaff off the air of sophistication you tend to often adopt, life isn’t that much complicated, I have come to realize. It isn’t difficult recognizing the simple things in life. It is holding on to them and making sure that you don’t morph into a complicated being that becomes, well, complicated. Like this pearl of wisdom I realized some time ago; that it isn’t hard knowing what you want in life; it is getting there that makes it a struggle.
This Sunday afternoon, I was reading old blog posts from a fellow journalist whose writing I used to greatly admire once. That is when it struck me, why I write, here and elsewhere. I write because, it is very simple now that I think of it, writing is more ‘me’ than anything else I do is. It is what comes most naturally to me. There isn’t a sophisticated reason why I write. If something comes out of the words I write, well that would be an additional blessing. But I cannot not be me for long. Take away the pretences, the masks that I, you could be forced to wear, take away the fragile walls around the life I, you have created and I will still have my writing. I shall always write, one way or the other.
And off late I am also in the position to thank a God for this.
On days when I believe enough to thank a God, I add on smaller joys to be thankful for. Like a sunrise on the
Ganga. Like a sunset at my happy place somewhere in Kodagu. Like having been to . Like the little grains of sand at the beach. Like love, even the lack of it sometimes. Like life. Varanasi