Tempest

Tuesday, 10 April 2007

Blogging: The Why's

Why do I blog? Why do I pen down thoughts? Why do I assume there is much to be expressed? Why do I look at these thoughts in surprise like I’ve seen, thought them for the first time? Why am I addicted to this incessant posting?

I remember starting out. I remember resisting with all that I had. I just could not digest the idea of putting my thoughts down in a public forum for all to see. It did feel like standing naked in a room full of people (this is a borrowed line). In a way, it’s worse than standing naked in a room full of people. You can close your eyes and imagine that the people don’t exist. Even if you do acknowledge the fact that they do, their vision can only go skin deep. That in comparison thus, makes standing naked in a room full of people an easier task to me (lets not discuss it in isolation, that’s a different thing all together).

Another reason why the idea of blogging did not settle easily with me was because of the digital medium. It felt oddly like a personal and an impersonal space at the same time. I mean for me the internet was mainly e-mails for personal interaction and you don’t really discuss existence via mails. And the only other time that you discuss life’s various queries is when you are in one of those rare and odd philosophical moods (with me these are often and yes I admit to lunacy) and a rather close friend happens to be in the vicinity and unfortunately has to bear the brunt of your bizarre questioning and reasoning (most would argue that I have none!).

So I started writing like it was a new art to me all together. In a way it was. I hadn’t written in ages. I mean I hadn’t written what I would like to write in ages. Between Journalism school and Journalism in real I had honestly forgotten how to put down my point of view down on paper. By my point of view I don’t mean just the two sides of the coin and the diplomatic in-between, but the various tangential thoughts and issues that I would have with a situation, circumstance or incident. Those tangents are your thoughts. And somewhere in the last three years I had stopped paying attention to them. I think I had forgotten to have them (mom would argue having them again was an extremely bad thing and brought me to the end of my glorious career as a journalist, but I honestly don’t think I had one looming ahead of me).

Now, when I did begin to blog, it was as if I didn’t have the vocabulary to write even half a sentence that could have the right import that I wanted to convey (I still don’t but am getting used to it now!!). It felt rustic. It felt like I shouldn’t even try for lack of talent. Mind you I did believe writing was a talent that could not be acquired. And then every time I’d finish a post and look at it in dissatisfaction the only thing that would give me a boost unto writing another would be the few kind encouraging comments that a friend or two would leave behind. This egged me on and I found the interaction fun. Since it was a new hobby and since after 21 years of existence I had discovered that I could think (even if like a 2+1=3 year old, it was a discovery nonetheless!), I kept at it with an eager gusto.

Now this whole commenting culture was a contradiction in itself (I love creating dilemmas for myself, like someone once said I think I feed off them). Two issues followed. One was that I began because of the encouraging comments, but then again it was like an invasion of privacy. You can’t really stem who you want to enter into this mindless haven that you are creating (well practically you can always screen who can leave a comment but the point is not about others reading the comments left behind but of you yourself reading them and knowing that this is out there for all to read, question, disregard and know it whats in your head). So, on the one hand I had a hang up about everybody reading and leaving comments but on the other hand I was almost feeding off the comments that people left. It oddly urges the writing spirit. I couldn’t decide what my problem was. But the constant writing and reading over time I think made my spirit brazen and I got over it. I still don’t have an answer to my dilemma but it no longer bothers me. Hah time the best friend of the fickle human mind!

The second issue is about ownership. I have never considered myself a possessive human being, at least not for something as lame and intangible as thoughts. See its one thing for you to write and for people to leave comments. But it’s entirely another ballgame if people begin to question your thoughts and force counter arguments on you. While having a verbal discussion it is different. In a way it disappears into space after it is over and we have had our arguments. But on paper it is ominous in a way. You can’t escape it. You can’t have random thoughts and confuse yourself and get away with your half arguments and let it drop. On paper it stares at you in your face. It is proof of what you think and you have to weigh what the other person’s point of view is and you have to admit and acknowledge where you have gone wrong and how there is room for the other individual’s point of view to exist. On paper, your mistakes in judgement, values, thoughts and even spellings are there for both you and the world to see and thus also makes it eminent for you to accept them. It makes you mad at times, it makes you defensive at times but it also makes you absolutely sure of what thoughts and values you would definitely defend no matter what.

So, there are two sides to this coin and there’s no escaping it. The mistakes and narrow world views that you have about various issues you learn to accept and swallow your pride. On the other hand many values and principles that you think are not wholly defined in your head but, when put on paper and questioned by others bring forth intense feelings of protectiveness which reinforce your value system and start making the little ‘me’s’ that would eventually define you.

I think the writing helps me sift and sieve. It helps in realising what things are important to me and what after having written seem frivolous and silly. I think I’m still grappling with letting myself go completely in my text. Its tough to share all of ‘you’ but the more that you write, the more you realise that the more of your real self you put in your writing the more impact the writing has, the better the writer you are. But, then I guess it also comes down to prioritising as to what you want. Do you want to be a great writer or is your privacy more important to you?

Another aspect blogging threw up for me was discretion. Trust me I have never been the master of discretion (hell if you ask my friends they'd tell you I probably don't know that the word exists!). I either say what I think or don't say it at all. Blogging has kind of opened up this new window of expression. It feels out of charactor to mince words, or say what you want to in not so direct a manner so as to camouflage it and leave it in between the lines for others to find or miss entirely. But it is highly exciting and in a way solves the problem of feeling exposed and vulnerable (Again why one should feel vulnerable if ones thoughts are out in the open is an issue for another post). But this again does not answer the above question and does leave you dissatisfied (at this point if you feel the purpose of this post is to thoroughly confuse you, I apologise sincerely).

I was told that I’ll change a lot by blogging and that it’ll make a difference to who I am. I don’t know if it has but oddly it gave me a lot of things…a sense of possession, a little of my lost faith back, a little confidence, a great deal of joy, some tremendous venting, new friends who I respect for their talent, a penseive (trust me I need it!), a place am no longer afraid to go…that urges me to fly, and a little bit of pride.

I thank all those who have taken the time out to read my loony posts.

I’ll be forever grateful to DQ for immense patience and perseverance shown. It wasn’t necessary and it still made a whole world of a difference to me. But then again DQ doesn’t always ‘do things out of necessity unlike some people’.

Love you Farishta for reading, writing, and praising my feeble attempts in spite of being the artist of finery yourself.

PS- My next post should be about promising myself to stop being such an annoying sentimentalist!!

Posted by Pavitra :: 04:38 :: 3 comments