Friday, October 26, 2007

Blogs Won't Change the World...So They Said

I just realized that I've been blogging for more than two years now. Which reminds me, Happy Belated Birthday Blog! :)

I remember that extremely bored day in college, when I finally decided to give in, and get me a blog. I say give in, because I had adamantly refused to get one at the time, when it seemed like a fashionable thing to do. The page 3 and the intellectual junkies of our class, suddenly seem to have waken up to this new cool thing to do. Blogging was "in". But me, being the wannabe rebel, refused to get myself one, and the reason I gave myself was that it is something that only those people do, who either have loads of time in their hands, or loads of stuff in their head to clear up. I, don't have the time. Or so I tried to convince myself.

But come September, that pretty much changed. I was jobless, and bored out of my skull. All my friends seemed busy sorting out the messes in their life, and none of them particularly expressed a wish to solicit my help. (ah! now I feel like a wannabe broke writer) So well, the point is, I was had plenty of time, and nothing to do in it.

And thus was born this blog. And so far, its been a good experiment. I like the idea of having the freedom of writing what I want, when I want it. I like the fact that a few (just a few!!) people read what I write, and the fact, that even when they are nameless, faceless, I can still know something about them, they can talk to me, and I, to them. It's a nice feeling.

I made a few good friends; I met, in some sense of the word, a lot of interesting people. I love the serendipity of following a random link in a random blog, and then suddenly finding myself face to face, with what feels like a long lost friend. When I read something someone was posted, and think, "Shit! This looks like she/he is feeling what I felt, thinking what I thought!." When I see someone else's blog, I say, " Hey! This feels like me!"

It amazing, how people can share so much in space where anyone can read them. And, honestly most of them, no, most of us, are not really trying to channel what we can't tell people on the face. I remember this huge row a friend of mine had with this guy, about this. "You can't tell me so you out it on the blog" blah. But the truth is hardly that. Most, I realized have an audience who know their identity, who know where they come from. But still its easier to talk here, than talk to someone in person.

I've had endless debates with a very dear friend who firmly insists that blogs will not change the world. I'm not saying they will. Or that they will be the avant gard soldiers to bring in the revolution that makes this a better place, but then blogs have changed the way the world sees, and the way the world speaks. Millions of people who would never have ever said a thing now have a voice--maybe not a very loud one, but then it still is better than screaming to silence.

Blogs are democracy in its true form--a platform where everyone HAS a chance to speak. How loud you are, and how much you are heard depends on what you have to say, and how you say it. Yes, large part of it is just Pinto, Chinto and Bunty explaining why they prefer to their eggs scrambled and not boiled, but then fact is that if Pinto, Chinto and Bunty choose one day to speak about cruelty to animals, they can. And they will be heard. And that's why, blogs will change the world.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007


A journey back to what I thought I left behind. Almost dawn. Cold. Dark. Unfamiliar station. Yet, the comfort of being close. Trust, that you will be home. And then a familiar voice, concerned, caring. Familiar face. Then that familiar hug. And the warm feeling inside.

The same old jokes, the same old feeling...of knowing, of being a part of a whole. Squeals of delight at the sight of old friends, old past in the new present. My comfort zone.

There is something about can never forget them. You may not remember, not consciously at least. But they are always lurking in some dark corner of your memory. You take one unconscious turn, and they spring up in front you. You smile in recognition, and at the happy realisation that memories will soon follow.

Places. Sights. People. Smiles. Touch. Warmth. Joy. Exhilaration that nothing has changed. Nothing can possibly change in just two months, after all. Was is just two months?

It is nice to know that you belong. Someplace. To someone. Just as they belong to you.

A journey back. After a night spent shivering in the train, I step into the pleasantly warm morning to auto wallas who do not try fleece you. Still, trust is just not there. Relief, yes. But trust? Places, sights, roads, that are only distant acquaintances. Gates, that were not waiting, open for me.

Voices. Smiles. And a hug...not familiar, but still warm. I step into my room. On my messy bed, that sags so much that it's almost a hammock, is my brand new university tee-shirt. My roomie tells me that all of them have got it too. We are official tee-wearing part of this small cozy community.

As I listen to my roomie's happy chatter about the weekend's fun, of now familiar quirks of the now familiar friends, and the you-should-have-been-there-you-missed-so-muchs...I smile. Circles may not be too much fun, but they are a part of life.

This will be home too. Yet.