Writing has been very enjoyable. Its a stress reliever to me; to express your views, to write a poem, to share what you observe and your perspective. I've always looked forward to writing - purely on the basis of sharing my views and my experiences with like minded folks.
However; blogging has turned out to be an effort these past few months. I often make up my mind to write regularly here and then don't turn up. The step motherly treatment meted out to my blog is unfair; yet why am I repeating it?
I was retrospecting; what's making me wary of blogging. I think its more than one factor - firstly; the very thought of signing in, drafting and publishing an article is time consuming. It also means using a laptop or a notebook. Apart from that; the lack of interaction with bloggers and readers here has diminished to a great extent. I remember those heydays 4-5 years ago when people would start pinging me if they didn't see a post every 3 days here. We waited for the posts, commented and shared views honestly and defended the views with passion. The views were very much unbiased and without expectations. A reader didn't comment on one's post to be returned a favour.
And then; it all started tumbling down. You-comment-on-mine and I-will-do-the-same trend started. Some of the posts were totally irrelevant; more like adverts promoting a product. The fun waned. It was no more passionate, no more fun.
Likewise; reading a post and interacting with each other is not instant here. And it is not easy to have a n-way conversation. To grab attention is one thing, to manage to keep a party interested given the medium is impossible. And then I wonder; do I write for myself or for others? Of course; a verbal diarrhoea of my views and thoughts does make me feel lighter; but I would love a chatter, a discussion. It definitely soothes - to be heard, to be encouraged, to be criticised. We humans thrive on interactions isn't it?
I noticed my medium of sharing and participating has shifted from blog to facebook. I dont think it happened suddenly - the ease of use, the interaction and accessibility has made it compulsive for me to share more on Facebook than here. No! I dont have thousands of friends; i have a hundred. And yes, I know each one of them; I am not someone who would friend a total stranger. Facebook for me is not to show my day to day activity; unless its beautiful and it can motivate others. I share my poems, haikus, sketches and photography there. I write posts, share my opinions and at times engage in passionate debates - all those things that I was doing here!
Perhaps; its a natural transition and I shouldn't be too worried unless I stopped writing. Writing matters; not the medium of sharing.
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Crunch of the snow as I walk on them
Muffled by the howling wind.
Air wet and frigid; I bend my head down
Protecting my naked face from the biting cold
As if in respect to the harsh weather.
Rhythmic marching; one step at a time
Not a creature in sight; an unwelcome eerie.
This night seems to be long.
Awaiting in anticipation; a flicker of light,
The warmth and the coziness of bed.
I wish someone was walking with me.
My hurried steps wander; homebound.
The blurry slush, squelching as I drag my feet.
I’ve defined my path, so no turning back.
I’ll defend it; until I hit the high wall.
Crossing a bridge; rickety and narrow.
The black of the water shimmer
The moon’s imperfect reflection; dances.
Teasing me of my situation. Ah! An irony.
Wait in the wings I will; quiet and patient.
Squeezing the compass in my hand, I continue.
I turn a bend and find myself at crossroad.
Two narrow path fork; which one now?
Halting in my footsteps, I gaze as far as I could
Do I see any signs of light? Far away?
Those thoughts reach me again.
My fingers caressing your face.
The scar on your nose; you were conscious about.
I really liked them. Have I told you that?
Sure, its not relevant now; is it?
I cast my eyes again on the forks.
I need to pick a path and continue.
Its gotten late. I feel so lonely.
Guess I should keep walking.
And I wish you were walking with me.