HUNDRED

This is the hundredth post excluding the aside pieces which aren’t titled with a number. I started this blog in 2013 as a new venture in order to be more creative or like I said earlier to move away from the usual day-to-day commentary that my earlier blogs had contained, to a more structured blog where I took time to talk about things that I like as well as to share some of those favorite. I have not been very regular with the blog, starting and stopping often. It had taken me 3 years to finally reach this post. Initially I was trying hard to push myself to finish the 100th post and complete this venture and move on. But the last few weeks have made me realize that I can do much more with this blog and I honestly feel, capable of adding more things to read on my blog. I won’t deny the fact that there are times when I really want to vent myself rather than type any sensible post, and with time an age I think, one I have developed a better control over myself and two, decided to keep those cribbing for a personal journal.

In the various categories that I created for this blog, many have gone ignored, especially the one on Poetry. It has been years since I have picked up a book of poems and read through, hopefully, in the near future this will change. My last few posts leading up to this 100th post has been about reading books. I have two more books to review after this, in order to complete the 10 book tag which I had begun 3 years ago. Those two books are, The Lord of the RIngs and To kill a mocking bird. So, my 101 and 102 post are already prepared and scheduled for later. However, before they see the light of day I felt it was necessary to prepare a more personal 100th post.

This blog was a conscience decision to flex my creative writing and to test my ability to write within constriction. It has been a good practise, one which I think I will continue. In the off time when I wasn’t blogging about my interests, I was reading a lot of blogs, and this helped me come back. The more I read I realized that blogging had to be an outlet of creative skills rather that only an exercise. So, on the one hand I needed to keep practising how to write on a particular topic along with doing research and on the other hand keep the posts free-flowing and opinionated. I was doing the first part, the research, the planning but when it came to writing ( execution) I was bored. I was only regurgitaitng what I was researching and not really feeling invested in the piece and by the time I got around to verifying the details it had lost its charm for me. I think that is one of the reason the Blog prompts on NaBloPoMo did not work for me. I didn’t feel invested in the topic and it was more of an essay writing than an invested piece.

The other thing that has been a difficulty is garnering enough readers and respondents. People read my blog as I can see from the blog view statistics but they do not leave relevant comments and that is what makes me feel as if I am writing these notes and stuffing them into and bottle and flinging them into the ocean and I don’t know who is fishing one out and whether they are reading it and if they are what are they thinking about it. What astonishes me most is simpler blogs, full of erroneous language and basically sub standard writing is being published online by websites and individual bloggers are being read and liked, whereas compared to those my pieces are more researched, at least not visibly full of mistakes, yet, somehow, the my readership does not seem to grow.

Of course, worrying about it is not going to be of any help. so, I took a  long pending advise from a fellow blogger and registered my blog with a community. I am still waiting to hear from them and who knows this may be the right push that I need to be more regular with my posts.

My blog is not completely separated from my life and hence moments and circumstances of my life does spill over and it is probably what keeps me typing. It is a strange coincidence that just when I am coming back to this blog, life is taking me back to a city where this blog was first created. Perhaps the upcoming experiences will prove to a treasure trove of blog posts.

I would like to end my 100th post with a few words on the people who have helped me come this far. Obviously I would mention my family who have really been the pillars of strength for me and forever reminding me at different times that I need to let my creativity work its charm. My friends, who are kind to me with their encouragement and motivating words that still hasn’t woken me up completely. I just hope they continue to encourage me from time to time so, that finally, I fulfill my life’s dream. And a special thank you to those who share their sub standard writing online which totally does wonders for my lazy ass to get up and start typing. In fact, next to the encouragements, I think, the poor blogs I have to read, is my biggest motivation to keep writing.

THE END.

NINETY FOUR

Each day goes by and I keep procrastinating this post , many such posts that will bring this blog to a close. About 2 months ago I was  7 posts away from completing this blog. That hasn’t changed much. I have had several occasion to write a post but have left it for too late. My new found muse left me as suddenly as it found me. So I am back struggling to write a post that is more meaningful than just randomly scribbling. A few things have been on my mind. One of them is how to close this blog? What should my last post be? What are the topics I would like to cover on my way to that 100th post? 

Ideally in the utopian world I would have written about my visit to Chandigarh and Punjab that left an indelible impression on me. But too much time has gone by and I can’t bring myself to remember the days or nights spent there. I would similarly want to write  about my expedition to Rishikesh where I went to do River Rafting ( my first experience with Adventure sports) but the feelings that were so intense post the experience have now been blunted. I am afraid now whatever I write will not do justice to the original emotional experience. I could express my political opinion on demonetization but I feel too tired to spend any time rehashing what has already been repeated.  I do want to talk about my struggle with managing my weight. My recent tryst with Chikunguniya or the latest attempt to live healthy.  

Yet I write about nothing.  Everything seems all too insignificant once the moment passes. Have I become cynical ? May be my ability to write has dwindled with my ability to feel emotionally invested in everyday life. So on one hand I am better off not losing my peace over small incidents and at the same time I simply cannot write. 

Emotions have been my true source of writing. I have  had to feel something for the subject to be able to write.  Whether it is about Sherlock or Doctor Who or about Agatha Christie, there is some eemotional connect. I worry that pretending not to care has left me unable to write . 
May be I’ll write up on some of the topics I have been thinking about . May be I will end this blog this year. Here’s hoping that plans get executed.

THE END . 

NINETY THREE

Year ends, Durga Pujo, my birthday makes me nostalgic. My nostalgia has always stemmed from melancholy, a sense of loneliness amidst the festivity. This time it is both the Pujo and my birthday that makes me nostalgic. Nostalgia is a doluble edged sword because what we remember from long ago is usually tinted with our own  desires and wishes. And then there are people who read too much into what you wrote. If you post on social media some random friend will ask you what’s wrong. If you write a blog someone who follows it ( surreptitiously) will be offended. Someone else will wonder what is going on with your life.  The thing is being a romantic has its perks, I can  look at things with tinted red eye glasses but sometimes when I look back at life I see it through some sepia tinted glasses. And in that not everything is bright, some are yellow with frayed edges turning grey, like a flower kept inside a book for long loses its color and becomes the color of the old pages of the book. That’s what happens to our memories. I find it hard these days to differentiate between one memory and another , often my mind meanders through different timelines in my life. Perhaps that’s what it means to grow old. 

Recently someone said to me that they were suddenly made aware that they were 31 years old. I chuckled.  I found it funny. I tried to think how old I feel. I always thought I would feel like 18 but turns out being 18 wasn’t all that good, although Bryan Adams still tries to convince me. But I feel myself to be at that age between 25 – 26. That time when I had made my shares of mistakes and I had thought I would never repeat them. You see now I know that I would repeat them and I also know I would survive them. So, now my knowledge makes me stronger to say yes when I know saying yes means facing yet another heartache. Over the years life has taught me more lessons about heartache that  I cared to learn. In fact I still feel they should include Relationship as one subject instead of Trigonometry at school. I mean sin, cos and all those theorems sure as hell didn’t help me when  I needed it. May be some do’s and don’t’s would have helped. But the now 30 something 26 year old likes to feel the small thrills of old music, old pics, old friends , New people ( read interesting folks) and that doesn’t make this a bad time of my life either. 

I suddenly realise I do not have the same fears of a 26 year old. And that can be liberating. It can make you feel blissful, take off a few burdens from your back, let you breath easy, enjoy your life, take it easy, smile more, and like someone said just enjoy.

I mustn’t forget it does make for wonderful day dreams too. 

So here I am turning some 30 something having started this year feeling like 40 something  ( bad influences ) now I’m back to myself. I am still the same, somewhat less damaged and confused, somewhat eager to be the oldgirl ( living up to her nickname and self image), who was “adulting” for a while. What is life if not lived in madness, Passion, in search of love and meaning of life? ! 

As I bring home this 100 days of scribbling blog, I am again beginning to look inwards than outwards for my inspiration to write, to live, to love… and in borrowed words,

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”



THE END.

NINETY TWO

“Use your words”. This is what I have been telling you, haven’t I? You think I am kidding. That’s why you avoid taking my advice seriously. That is evident. Now, stop doing that and please listen to me. Women do not like men who can’t talk. I am not asking you to become a chatterbox, I am asking you to show that you are a matured adult and can hold a logical , pragmatic, conversation on different topics. That brings me to 3 other things, one must read enough of literature and current affairs to be able to have a conversation, which i think you do, two, conversation cannot happen with monosyllabic answers, they mean you are not interested or plain dumb, three, a decent vocabulary helps. In fact, I can go so far as to say, in my experience, Never underestimate the seductive power of a decent vocabulary. If you are not reading enough of literature, and not that Chetan Bhagat crap, good literature, classic literature, if you are not watching good movies, you are digging yourself into a early intellectual well with no way out. So, read and just don’t keep that reading to yourself, talk about it, discuss it, bring your reading into your conversation. Stop looking like a poster boy. The branded clothes, the expensive watch and the 70000 INR phone works well, till you open your mouth and all that comes out is random words, incoherent sentences and zero opinions. Have an opinion, don’t be afraid to defend it? Don’t argue, have a conversation. There is nothing wrong with being intelligent, unfortunately in today’s world intelligence is measured by designation or salary or bank balance. Also intellectual pursuits are trivialized when held up against the all important material possessions. So, having a collection of good books is ignored and the point of discussion is about owning the new phone or the LED Tv. Mind you, I am not saying I have a problem with worldly possession. Hell! i want the worldly possessions but not at the expense of losing my intellectual possessions.

So don’t be like the imbecile in the mercedes at the traffic light blaring some punjabi song though his 1000 watt system. Be better than the Gucci flaunting dumbass at the multiplex who uses abusive slang to give instructions for his popcorn to be delivered to his seats. Don’t be that guy who thinks speaking in English defines someones value and position in the society. Stop being the random guys we see on the street, at work, in a bar, in the mall. Be better than them. If you want to emulate a hero, do it by all meand but do it intelligently. And that doesn’t mean emulating the face, the body, the swag. Well, if you have them, good for you but along with that have some brains. Be a SRK not a Salman Khan, be a Justin Trudeau not a Trump. Learn to speak, and if you already know how to, hold a decent conversation with friends, colleagues and women, yes, women. Women you like, women who you hope will like you. Try that. And stop winning that you don’t have a girl friend.

 

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THE END