When I titled this blog earlier it read “Where It Started”. I meant to talk about this past one year of blogging. Somewhere along writing this I got tangled and realized I can’t separate it from myself. So this is making an attempt to catalog the past one year, because I like anniversaries better than birthdays, because I am the custodian of dates and anything to do with numbers.
I initially started writing here because it was something I wanted to do with my leisure time. I wanted to cultivate my writing for the sheer sake of writing. Sooner than I had imagined it became a reclusive abode for everything in my life. Everything important.
From what I’ve learned I take root too easily but don’t stay put and planted for very long. If my roots are too strong, I pull and tug and crawl out absolutely terror-stricken because I fear that half of me is buried under. It frightens me to think that I have to be tucked almost halfway inside something to actually feel complete. I’m saying this because I need you to understand I was a person who had a hard time committing to anything. All this changed when I started writing here. I wanted to be here forever. My mind developed some kind of resistance towards imagining a world where I didn’t have this blog. So no matter what happened in my life, no matter how tricky and rough things got I felt like this had to be my constant. In the process, I developed another constant and some other wonderful experiences and it wouldn’t even be possible had I not had this blog to begin with.
Often I felt like the gusto with which I started had died down but every time I came back and wrote something I knew that that feeling was irreplaceable. I’ve been away months at a time because my life didn’t permit me that kind of space and time. I’ve been away on purpose sometimes, to ponder about things and see if I was actually missed. I’ve also been away because I felt like my writing was rigid and this wasn’t going anywhere. Was it even supposed to?
Over the past one year, I’ve realized that my reviews started meaning more to me than the random journaling I did. I also got the opposite opinion from a handful of people who sometimes traverse along and pause a while to read what I write. I’ve learnt that maintaining a balance is the key to everything. Extremity is never fully appreciated. I visit some movie review blogs and I marvel at the way these writers interlace their thoughts about a movie and I wonder what else that kind of writing talent could create.
Speaking of reviews, when I made that category it was only going to be an outlet for me to share media I love and want other kindred souls to revel in, too. I could never have foreseen the two things that came out of it. The first being my strong desire to become a movie critic. Second, book reviews are strange and half-hearted, incomplete, failed attempts at trying to fittingly describe, summarize, coagulate pages and pages into a few paragraphs. My first book review got shared to a widespread audience and till date remains my “Best ever views” in a day. In spite of that I don’t feel like I can do book reviews again. I tried to do justice to my favourite book, hoping and praying that somehow I would be able to express in words just how brilliant it is. In the process, I realized that summarizing isn’t really one of my strengths.
Somewhere in between I got swayed, too. My stats counter suddenly started gaining unprecedented importance. I started writing about things I only knew could get me more views while admitting to everyone else that I was definitely not doing it for that. It was petty and stupid and very soon I lost focus. I will remember in the coming year, never to let that happen again. I am not proud of it considering I wrote: The Self-Write-eous and this whole thing makes me look like a complete hypocrite.
Coming back to now, I feel like I’m much bigger than this blog. Maybe we humans are made in a way that once we come across something new and fancy we embrace it and put it on a pedestal. When the purpose is achieved and our whims and fancies supposedly satisfied, we see no distaste in using that same pedestal as a stepping stone. I love writing here but now I want to do more than just that. I want to also write elsewhere. I want to see this as a starting point but not something I wrap my head around so much that I’m only left fluttering in between these internet links. I see people close to my age having everything I want right now and it hurts too much that I just sit around whining. I can wish all I want that I had started sooner. I can continue to belittle my journal and diary as things that won’t impact anyone anymore but that thought process won’t do my future any good. I have dreams and aspirations and I’m forever drowning in my conflicting impulses, my constant greed to be more and better than I am now.
Life for me is going to radically change after a Few Months. I’ll be moving away from an institution that basically made me feel like my hands were cuffed behind my back. Try writing in that position. It’s not easy. Maybe I’ll try looking into more options that give me scope and help me utilize whatever little part of my life I actually have control over. I am psyched about the Coming Months after these Few Months. As of now, I exist in a world of hard hand drawn lines, inexplicable formulae and rigid calculations which can sometimes be corrected.
Where I Started marks the one year anniversary of my blog that has come a long way and has seen many seasons of change, literally and figuratively. Where I Started is not some way of saying I have had my share and I’m moving on. It means that I finally feel like I have come this far and I can make more out of my writing because Where I Started beckons Where I Will End Up.