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EIGHTY EIGHT

Everyone has a muse or an inspiration that drives them to achieve some thing. Even to write a poet / writer needs to be inspired.  I have always found my inspiration from reading a lot. When you read what others have written before you , you feel an inspiration to work on something that leaves a lasting memory. I don’t believe that my writing is for the ages but nonetheless there is a desire to be read and appreciated.  After many years I had taken up blogging hoping to write about the more serious things rather than the everyday life but my inspiration have always come from my every day experiences and how long could I avoid them.

First few posts were planned and executed by me on this blog sufficiently well but soon the pressure to keep the writing flowing and interesting got tougher. I took a longish break from it. And my sudden return in the last few days can be chalked upto life experiences.  This time it was because of travel which took me to a different part of India and where I spent a lot of time with myself and new people and their thoughts and voices triggered some visions that brought back many buried ghosts from the past.  But I faced those ghosts and suddenly they were more than mere memories they had grown to become inspirations. Of the few bloggers that I read regularly many have hung up their pens to dry but of the ones that struggle on, I am acutely aware that they must focus so hard on their life to be able to publish their posts. My failure to write more I can always chalk upto laziness  but to fail in creativity and inspiration would not work. I looked back on my life through a major time gap and in this time all the memories had become mixed up and even if I wanted to I could not distinguish between them. But the inspiration that emanated from then was unbelievable and although my last few entries are not like my others posts here, I’m thrilled that I’m trying to write. I am in the home stretch , so to speak, a mere 12 posts away. Completing these 12 posts will mean reaching the 100th. I can’t wait to get there. Because getting there would be an achievement , whose significance I can perhaps never explain. 

I am quietly thanking my work has allowed me this opportunity to undertake this travel and the interactions that have rekindled the desire to express myself. I do hope that when I am done with the 100th post that little niggling feeling of indescribable pain and loss, I have been experiencing would also leave me and let me be. 

THE END. 

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