2015 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,600 times in 2015. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Sitting and Stalking

The first few weeks after my post-graduation were spent sitting in an arm-chair, looking for jobs and streaming How I Met Your Mother. Two tabs for teaching vacancies, two for writing and two other tabs for stalking women’s blogs. I didn’t know this then but I think stalking women’s blogs made me want to have a writing life and made me see how independent the women who wrote were.

Two of my favourite women bloggers were on blogspot then and they had written extensively about their work and living alone. I gobbled up their archives in a day and was thirsty for more. I went looking for them online. I stalked friends of friends on facebook, googled their names and arrived at a set of conclusions. These women were employed, lived alone, liked to read, and wanted to become writers. They were part of writing and reading workshops, were in touch with each other and wrote motherfucking every day.

I was more envious than thrilled. I was only just coming to terms with my own desire to write and these women– some even younger than me, were a lot more accomplished. It was around this time that I got a job at an NGO in Mysore. After a lot of persuading, my parents agreed and I started to pack my life of 22 years into medium-sized suitcases. I packed tea mugs, all of my journals which needn’t be hidden anymore, my books that were waiting to be read after I had become an independent woman, and family albums, just in case I missed them (so many giggles)

When we got to Mysore, I realised that I hadn’t really given much thought to where I would be living my independent woman life. I hadn’t thought of accommodation. I assumed that a PG would come flying by to my rescue and I wouldn’t have to worry. Long story short- I didn’t find any accommodation that my parents approved of so I lived in a government guest house for three days before giving in to their emotional drama and eventually quitting. I cried and kicked all the way back to Bangalore. My theory is that all of my dad’s government car drivers know me better than my parents do. So many of my life’s tragedies have happened in these cars. They would look straight ahead and drive on sombrely, ignoring the hysterical and weepy woman sitting next to them. I wonder what they knew. I wonder if they judged my father.

Months later– sitting in Uttarahalli where I got my second job, I took my first step and started to blog. I had reached a dead-end. I was stalking all these women and becoming nervous and ambitious all at once. These bursts of energy only made me more jealous so I’d binge-watch Gilmore Girls and call it a day. Here I discovered a blogger who lived in Bangalore and went to college by day and wrote madly by night. I followed her writing very closely and that was the exact moment when ambition became inspiration. I wrote about watching Julie & Julia that day and went to bed a happy woman that night.

I continue to stalk women now. I turn to their writing for comfort when my own writing hits all levels of shit and my personal life hits all levels of madness. These women taught me how to be but they didn’t know that I was learning from them. Three years later I find that I have a writing life. It’s not the greatest but I’m sure that if the girl sitting in Uttarahalli knew this, she would be happy for herself.

It’s not easy to write. Especially not when I am sad but it’s the only thing that I can call mine and I trust it to make me feel better.

2014 in review :)

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,400 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 40 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Hee Hawww!

I cannot describe in too many words the elated feeling of ‘nothing-fucks-with-me-now’, when I hit the ‘publish’ button. It could have been happiness of a different world altogether if I could have hit the ‘publish’ button every day of the week. Maybe that can be my next challenge. But I am not complaining. There were days when I dreaded writing because I was too depressed to write. On one such occasion I discovered by accident, the joy of writing even as my mind was begging to shut off and sleep.

I was sulking, cursing and very depressed because of a love problem. I took a detour and started thinking about the last lake I saw. I had found my story idea – it was stupid and my mind kept rejecting it, partly because I was lazy, partly also because I wanted to open my journal and rant about love problems. I said screw you to both and wrote about the goddamn lake. Not my best, but it did make me believe that even on days that you want to curl up in bed with Dairy milk and Gilmore Girls and do nothing except wallow in self pity, you can still write.

I am not happy about most of my posts on the A- Z challenge but I am glad that some form of a writer is beginning to take over here. For the first time in months, I felt invulnerable. And it felt great. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.

It didn’t stay for long though because then I saw people and my invulnerability left me like color leaves my brother’s face when I hijack his room. It feels good to write every day though, even better when I don’t have to struggle for words. Having finished the challenge in over 2 months doesn’t exactly make me feel good about myself because this was supposed to be finished in 26 days. I am not even sure if I can write everyday now but I am writing more than I have ever written before and that is a happy thought. I also found that I can survive after having written and posted on the internet, bad poetry and short stories. I had to fight crazy urges to delete posts at all sorts of odd hours.

I am going to get me some wild drinks now because I feel splendidumdidum!

 

C – Comfort

When I wrote in my journal, which was quite often when I was 16, I didn’t really need to have a sense of comfort to be able to write. I could write when I was mad, hurt, and happy as hell. I could rant for pages together and not worry about how it reads.

Blogging doesn’t allow me this liberty of comfort. I am mad at the world today and there are a hundred odd things I want to say but I cannot because then everybody will know I am a dumbfuck. That’s the only thing I really miss about writing in my journal. Only I knew that I was being a dumbfuck when I wrote in one of my fuck you sprees. Here, I have to watch what I say, make sure I don’t bitch much, avoid using too many exclamation marks: something that I exploited to a point of embarrassment in my journals. I kid you not, I cannot read my journal today without erasing a hundred emoticons and cursing my parents for having made me.

Clearly, blogging disciplines you in a way that even regular journal writing cannot. In this part of the world I am accountable for the metaphors I use, for the tragedies I weave and the drama that I miserably push. Back in my older world, metaphors were always found in Meg Cabot/ Judy Blume books or worse copied from them.Tragedies were an everyday drama and took up space like it was its grandfather’s house. Blogging screws with your comfort in ways that will only make you better at swearing, if nothing and eventually, writing, hopefully.

I am glad I blog. I am happy about the A- Z challenge. I am not sure if it has made me a better writer, but I am certainly happier and far more disciplined a writer. See? No exclamations.