Introduction..again

The old blog lies dusty and almost forgotten. Here I am, on the cusp of a terrain of uncertainties, past and future. If I want a new start in life, why shouldn’t my writing?

Writing is the only skill that I’ve considered myself passable at. And through all of life’s meandering choices and dreams, writing has been the only way that I have seen for myself to leave a mark, if at all, in this world where so many of us try to do exactly that. No, I exaggerate. If through reading I could leave a mark, I would do that. But since that is not possible, writing is my answer. Reading has been the only constant through all these years. And each time I read something that remotely exposed the writer’s soul to me, I felt a  stirring deep within me, to pick my pen up(or sit at my computer) and bare a part of my soul too, for the world to see. And yet, I didn’t.

Actually, I did. I picked my pen up and wrote, literally, in a spiral bound copy-note that I call my diary. Rambling thoughts, reviews of books, musings over philosophical choices, disputes, travel plans and budgets, dream analysis- all muddled in multi-coloured ink in prose, poetry, and newspaper article form. I experimented in my diary. It was fun. I was baring my soul to myself in ways that I hadn’t tried to, in a few years.

However, that’s all it was.

Since my last major blog post in the summer of 2016, I had chosen to keep what I wrote only to myself, and maybe show to a few friends. It does get difficult to articulate thoughts when one is trying to disentangle a knot of broken cables, withered shoe laces and fragile thread within one’s head; experimenting in one’s diary seems to be the perfect representation of the state of my mind then- keen desires, seeking to find a visible shape, but the general cluelessness and unawareness of purpose.

I do not promise that this blog will be any different.

The plan is this- to have weekly updates- on anything I think is good enough to be shared. No, let me rephrase it- weekly soul baring posts. I am not going to stick to a form; I need to write, and write is what I will do (I just noticed a slight smile on my lips as I type this- my sub-conscious approves of this, I guess.) And this will be very personal- which piece of writing isn’t? And there will not be one topic or theme that I follow- merely the ramblings of a dreamy, depressed, socially anxious, moderately obese, chai drinking- occasionally smoking- cat cuddling woman in late her late 20s.

A few years ago, during a late night- under the open sky- talk with a potential lover, I had remarked that I wanted the world to see what I write, and especially for my blog to attain some recognisability, before I turned 30. I have around 30 more months for that. And the blog that I was talking about is dead. This here is a new start- an attempt not at gaining recognisability, but at seeking to write, that’s all. And if in that process, someone does pay attention, I shall be humbled- after all, nobody blogs publicly to remain invisible.

So here goes- once again, my attempt at maintaining a regularly updated online presence for the little expressions of my world. I hope I don’t lose this too. Really.

Wish me luck. :-)