I guess this happens when you have been inactive for a very long
time. I was hoping I would be excused for not showing up, for not posting on
this blog for so long. Just yesterday, I had made up my mind that, come what
may, I would post something every day. When I tried to sign in today, Blogger
feigned amnesia. It just did not remember me!! Can you imagine that?
I was rejected. Now, that is lethal. The very stony response had me in a
tailspin. Had my blog been given the boot? Had I lost all my posts? I was
frantic. 'Help' did not help. It left me searching, wondering and confused.
Then, after some intense, hopeful, prayerful searching, I found some link. Don't even think of asking me what. I am challenged in these viral matters. This affliction lives amicably with my other one—directional dyslexia. Together they ensure that I am a bumbling mess. But I wanted my blog back. Like a kid wants its candy. I wanted it NOW. I was going on this wild goose chase to write a few lines that very few may read. Not because
I write balderdash or something that helps you catch your 40
winks but because I write about myself. Now, I am not exactly Aishwarya or Lady
Gaga Or Rakhi Sawant or Mayawati. I'm not sure I want to be. When I gave
birth to my two children, I didn't have the world pushing down with me and
keeping track of my contractions. I would never wear an outfit that had five
udders attached to it in a state of inviting perkiness. The only drama I
create is at home, when someone misplaces my books and that lasts for hardly a
minute. Okay, truth be told. There are other occasions too when there is a deafening blast and an instant cool-down. A storm before the lull. Also, I don't thank Jejus all the
time. In fact, every night, I look up at the sky and say, "If you are
really up there, I'm sorry, I haven't thought of you even once. I just haven't
had the mind-space. So, don't bludgeon me. Believe me, I am grateful. It's just
that I haven't found the time to tell you that. No offence meant." I mean,
with all the s**t one gets the whole day, it's only sensible to have the Big Boss
up there on my side. In fact, I thought He (reverentially using the upper case for Him) had made my blog disappear for not acknowledging Him. Hence the appeasement. Also, I don't think I'll ever have my statue built. The only time I turned into stone was when I played 'Statue' as a kid. That required some mean breath control and oodles of patience. Coming back to the point...I do none of what the aforementioned
illustrious ladies do. But, they don't write either. I do. If that's some saving grace. I'm not going to lie or
pretend that I don't care if no one reads my blog. I do. But, I haven't gone
viral with it. Blame it on my bashfulness. Or on the fact that I haven't created a Kolaveri Di. Yet. I will rise above
the gobbledygook. One day...
PS. Why are these purple flowers here? Not just because I like their brilliant colour but because I don't have a great collection of pictures. I did say I'm starting all over again. Anew. Now, if that isn't a confession, what is?
No comments:
Post a Comment