The truth about truth

How dreadful the knowledge of truth can be when there's no help in the truth.
-Sophocles, (495-405 BCE)

Back to college after a decade

It hit me at once
The smell of chalk dust
That was caking up on the edges of the black board
Crammed wooden benches
Arranged back to back
My heart pounding
just like the ol’ days
it was exam time
and I wasn’t prepared...
Just like the ol’ days!

Just Blog it!

Writing is like a catharsis to me or that’s what I rediscovered this morning. This morning on my way to office I was actually writing a letter in my mental writing pad. Just like the many others I wrote…

While admiring the flaming bright blossoms of Gulmohur from the kitchen window, while reading an explicit scene in ‘Love in the time of Cholera’ or while I was furious over my daughter, Maana for something and she was glaring back at me defiantly folding her hands and I had begun to melt in motherly love….. So many letters, smses and emails, of love, content, anger, agony, anxiety, surprise, displeasure and many such hundred and three (donno why that number, I think it just signifies countless) emotions caught in my breath, stuck in my mind, choking me… I don’t know how to extricate these feelings but I can only try.

Do you know what happens when you think things and don’t write them down? You hold back yourself from giving flight to that precious winged thought that has appeared out of nowhere, deny it an existence it rightfully deserves. And in its stead, you keep it flitting mercilessly in the depths of your memory or to quote Anne of Green Gables- ‘In the depths of despair!’ While the simplest thing you could have done was to pin it by its wings and trap it between the blank lines of your diary or better still your blog.

According to me, technology is still not good enough, it has to yet devise a way to redirect my winged thoughts to a vast repository or ideally to the respective person's Inbox!

To blog or not to blog is the question

I have been an avid diary person since the teenage years of my life. I used to write compulsively, innocently, without judging my words. My every thought and act of the day industriously noted down to the last detail. It was a time when there were no personal computers to key in your thoughts, no internet to surf and no blogs to write in. It seems like a bygone era now. People reading this might think I am one old hag or something but it doesn't matter. Internet gives you the option of not revealing your age and this gives me some kind of a cheap thrill. Well, where was I?

Ah... that bygone era... The era of snailmail, greeting cards, home made food (instant was unheard of then)... When I spent many idle hours together watching clouds, making limericks, counting the people passing by my building or simply rode far and wide on winged unicorns in my own dream world.

And here I was, suddenly transported in to this fastpaced microchipped, sms world, finding myself entrapped in the snares of forwards, chainmails and batlling spam on a daily basis. Friends often coaxed me to start blogging but my mind was too blocked about the whole concept. "Blog me? No I find it better the old fashioned way with my pen and diary. Besides, I don't want the world to read it...." Reluctantly I even signed up for a blog account, which remained untouched... until today... The day that changed my life in a way. A friend of mine sent me his very first blog. And then I thought hey not such a bad idea after all. Let me unblog myself a bit. Should be fun. Call it peer pressure or the excitement of doing something new I spent no time in digging out my blog username. And I finally decided to UNBLOG MY MIND!