The Culture Blog
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The Indian Commentator—it’s been five years, now. Often I do an introspective
article on writing or the purpose of blogging. Once, again, I am at a juncture,
where I had to write introspectively, reading and reporting my inner self’s
states. I feel that otherwise, I would not be able to survive the atrocious
influences I live with. By atrocious influences, I mean, those ideas and people
that believe success is to conform oneself to their way of looking at the
world. These people ask me to be this or that, and entirely ignore my real self.
Yesterday,
on 26 August 2013, I was thinking about page views on my blog. Whatever I was expecting,
wasn’t shown at the counter. I felt depressed and lonely. It was a peculiar
feeling that was close very much to the loneliness one suffers when left alone,
bereft of all relatives and friend. Ah! I cannot explain. That very day, I had
a busy class schedule and came back home tired and exhausted, much similar to
this day, when I write this post. Yesterday I felt tired enough to quit
publishing the article meant for the day. It felt unimaginably tiring. Today, after
realizing what should have been done, instead of what should have been
expected, I feel no pain and no exhaustion in writing this piece.
I made
the previous post on Sunday, 25 August 2013, at 10.03 PM; forty-eight hours
have been long enough for me to understand how important this blog is for me. I
hope Google never stops providing me this opportunity, and kindly continue
providing my blog to all the respective feeders and pages. Yesterday, I thought
that I would not make regular posts from then onwards, as the page views hadn’t
risen considerably as “I had expected”. It still was and is a very large chunk,
which would have been thrilled me as a rookie five years back. Now, however, my
preferences changed, apparently, and high expectations became a regular business.
Right now, after forty-eight hours from the previous post, I feel, I am no
longer alive, without the interaction with my regular readers.
Of course,
after five years, it becomes a habit.
Yesterday,
at my college, a student of mine came to me and said every one of her friends ignored
her. She took serious issue, as she felt that others are avoiding her presence.
As a teacher and their guide, I shared my advice with her. “Why is your
friendship so mean?” I asked her. She looked at me flabbergasted, and said, “Sir,
it is them…”
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“You
didn’t get me,” I explained. “If you are expecting something in return for your
friendship, such as care, concern, a biriyani, or money, then I would say that friendship
is mean.” She shook her head in understanding and went back to class.
It
took me still a long time to understand the actual sense of my own words. I was
expecting something (here page views) in return to the posts I share free with
my readers. I had thought TIC was free for all. Never did I realize that it was
not at all free for me. I was bound within the confines of the principle of
expectations. Meanwhile, I was also gave myself up in front of the principles of
success defined by others, for their benefits.
This
realization struck me once I moved closer to the edge of the urge to write. The
inevitable had to happen. I must communicate with my readers, and share a part
of my soul with them, no matter what. I decided. And so I am here, once again.
Post
Postum: I published my book review of A Degree in Death, on Sunday. Normally, I take a day’s off from my blog on
Sundays. So consider this; instead of a Sunday, I took it on Monday.
Comments
I dont know why.
I felt a great refreshment when i read this.
Thank you Sir.....!!!