Saturday, November 23, 2013


Man is a creature of habit. I am sure I read this somewhere. Now that I have arrived at that stage of life where it is measured out in coffee spoons, I can understand the meaning of that statement. Everyday begins with the electronic buzz of my alarm. The first few hours peter out through the subconscious before they can be registered. Then begins the tiring, crammed journey crossing the entire length of the city, in the company of a million solitary minds. Every minute is marked with the familiarity of a routine. The lunch might be different, but at the exact same hour. The check out from the office gate, the same tapri, the cutting and the wait for the delayed bus is a repetition of ennui. 

In creating a new routine, I have broken tradition with the old ones. The laptop lies breathing dust in a corner of the home. There are books lying all around the place. Some read, with torn covers marking the extent of my friendship with them. Others fresh, unopened and waiting to be picked up. They will have to deal with the disappointment. It is like losing touch with old friends. Slowly, steadily, without even knowing, you have lost them into a vortex of daily chores. But facts do not cease to be, just because they are ignored. One fine day, you come across something, a photograph, a number, a memory that brings them back to life. Almost. 

And thus, do I approach this blog. With a strange familiarity, that has now been lost. The hesitation, slowly gives way to old jokes, to the memories of stupid grammatical mistakes. Then comes the increasing tempo of the dance my fingers perform on the keyboard. Words form themselves and frame the pictures of my mental images. Yet, there is a conscious acknowledgement of the distance between the medium and my thoughts. 

Like Tennyson would say 

Though we are not now at that strength 
Which in better days moved earth and heaven,
 That which we are, we are; 

So, I write. And I ask you to not expect the same friendliness I once displayed with you. Do not judge me. Do not expect truth, or fiction for that matter. Just read, and hope that I can rebuild this friendship with you. Damaged as it is, it has not ended. 

Chalo ek baar phir se ajnabi ban jaaye hum dono.

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