Posted in Of Bloggingly

A Letter To My Blog

Blog (Courtesy: Pixabay)

Dear Blog,

Years and years ago I was given this piece of advice: to begin any piece of writing with a “sixer”. I’m sure that term is lost on all non-cricket-loving people reading this, but this letter is not about, or for, people, cricket-loving or otherwise. This letter is for you and me, rather From Me To You, and if our relationship causes obscurity among the masses, so be it. We don’t need to care about Them.

But, you will probably be rolling your eyes at that declaration, given how much we haven’t been a “We” lately. I will dare to go to the extent of telling you I haven’t thought about we – about you, about us together, and to some degree, even about me. You will laugh at me with sarcasm and say, “There you go again, making it all about yourself. Can’t you apologise for avoiding me without fishing for pity?” And you’ll be right. There is enough self-pity in me to save the world, if I outsource it. And I can’t say I have been doing that to make amends for the time I haven’t thought about you in a positive way.

I complain a lot. About many things, including you. I won’t go into that all over again. I won’t go into the drama of thinking about quitting you, because we’re all about honesty today – my long-term plan with quitting you is quitting you when I become a socially-approved, real writer. You may be hurt by this, and who knows, maybe you will continue to have a life when (and at this stage in my life, I’m reducing that when to an if) I reach there. But, I won’t make empty promises as I never make empty promises. You and I will have to part ways someday, and let’s just accept that before we further hurt each other.

But, how could you have hurt me? Well, sometimes there are technical issues, but that’s not your fault. If anything, you keep on saving me. Yesterday, I had the audacity to include your book form in a job application. I had been avoiding revealing your existence in anything professional, as you’re not a profession to me. You’re a calling. You’re not a diary, no matter how pejoratively people use the word blog to mean a pre-teen girl’s secret lock diary in adult form. You’re not even a confession. You’re a flirtation, as is all writing, and in fact, all art. You conceal, as much as you reveal. You ask, without wanting to receive. You create spectacles behind curtains, you’re like an artist’s biggest obsession – not naked bodies, but bowls of fruit. A bowl of fruit no one can ever eat from, but one that demands to be protected at all cost.

Before all that imagery reveals itself to not make much sense, I just want to say, this is not an apology. This is a mini-intervention. A sort of mission statement, without the eloquence of Jerry Maguire. Do I love you? Why should I love you? Can I ever reason anything without using lines from pop songs?

The truth is, I did try. To write you, several times before. I wanted to tell you about female musicians in history on International Women’s Day. I wanted to tell you about the study I conducted on babies (well, one baby. My nephew.) and their response to The Beatles #1 album (“From Me To You” was a hit). I wanted to edit and post entries by guests. I wanted to give you my usual, existential whines about getting older and starting to care less. And I believed you would sit through them all, as you always do. However, it’s one thing for the filament bulb in my head to light up, and another to make its electrical charges travel all the way to my hands, to be converted to the physical energy of my typing fingers, to all the energies it takes to make it on to you – signed, sealed, delivered. I’ve been cheating on you with bingewatching The Good Wife instead.

But, as Eli Gold would say, “It’s complicated.” All options are open to me, and I plan to decide in the next 48 hours. And you’ll see through all that bullcrap. You’re like this omniscient thing. Not Google, but probably privy to people in greater states of vulnerability than a Google review. In plain words:

I want to write you. But, I’m not in a state to write you. Things can’t go back to the way they were, but the way forward surely can’t, and won’t, be a way to business. There’s a holiness to the heart’s affections, which no mortgage should tamper with. You and I are spirits of the air, we must survive, and determine to thrive, in this hopeless place.




Writer, Blogger, Kate Bush Fanatic

12 thoughts on “A Letter To My Blog

  1. Extremely well written piece here Amrita. And one I can fully embrace because though it actually caused me pain to write the words a few weeks ago, I am officially on ‘hiatus’, even from Monochrome Mondays. This due to a number of issues, and I’m finding I just do not have the clarity right now to write. And in total honesty, a disheartening lament for what this community has become. When I mentioned that in my last post announcing the hiatus, a number of people agreed with me. Reading your account here said it way better than I ever could. I think back to when my blog was at its peak, ideas flowing, comments bombarding my inbox. It was all so exciting and made me want to keep going, keep the creativity flowing. Yes, I write for myself but for a good while there I felt like I was writing for myself and a dedicated group of followers. Once the followers started drying up, either because they outgrew my words, or they just dropped out of blogging, it felt like a punch in the gut. For awhile I was still really trying, and I think I produced some of my best work…that not many people read. That was another reason why I thought a hiatus for a month or two might be a good idea. When I come back I want it to be with that same feeling of writing for myself, and seeing what follows.

    Hang in there. I genuinely and sincerely miss your writing popping up regularly. It is understandable of course these feelings. But your talents are real. Do not forget that.

    1. I’m sorry to hear you’re taking a break from your excellent blog, but we all need to recharge our batteries (I’m guessing that might be one of the reasons) and you shouldn’t feel guilty if you do stop posting for a while. My blog peaked way back in 2014, so it’s not lack of readers that’s deterring me! By which I mean I don’t have or expect too many to begin with. My blog has a very specific voice which I understand isn’t marketable, and I’ve accepted that. It’s not the feeling of writing to no one either. It’s not writing to begin with. Inspiration isn’t lacking (the bulb does light up time to time), but execution is. One of the key factors is money. I wish I didn’t have to worry about it so much. I’m not in a dire state (I have the luxury to watch Netflix after all), but real life issues have been eating up, let’s say, Venusian matters. A more talented person would make a blues album out of this, but I got nothing! (Hey, that last line maybe a start to a blues lyric).
      I don’t mean to joke about a very real issue here, and really where do you go after you’ve reached the threshold your blog can reach? It’s your choice ultimately, and none of us start WordPress for the money (yet to make a dime, even from that book), but there must be something more primal than the format of blogging that makes you want to do it.
      Just some random thoughts. Thank you for your kindness as always. I do see your pictures on Instagram sometimes (I only ever remember to go there if I’m on my lunch break at work) and that endeavour is top-notch as ever!

      1. The photography side of my existence will never go away. If anything that has gotten stronger. Though my back may suffer from lugging it around, the results usually make it worth it! Thank you for that comment though. I have taken a few breaks before, but this one feels like a lifestyle break due to a variety of factors. I do have some unrealized ideas, and new ones brewing. But for the first time since I started, if you were to ask me now if I wanted to write, my answer would be no. But I will get back to it when things become clearer. I think mine has a very specific voice and isn’t really marketable or profitable either. The connection to artists and feeling a part of it makes it all worth it to me. I have been thinking that it might be time to change the focus or approach to what I do. I hate to cut down on length, or not get so personal at times because that really defeats the purpose for me. I am sorry to hear about money being such a factor. It lurks above most of us to be honest in one way or another. And it goes a long way towards happiness. If we were all Sims, half the world would collectively have one of those happiness meters above our heads, and they would scarcely ever get past the halfway point!

        On a side note because its been a while, how did that play go?

      2. It went well! We were the third group doing the Three Witches segment from Macbeth. I asked them to amp up the energy, and that gave it more immediate impact and separated them from the other performances.
        I don’t know Sims (is that a game?), so I don’t get the reference. Don’t worry so much about length. Focus on finding the right readers, because you can’t make something that pleases everybody. You have to firstly please yourself, as you said, but also make an effort to communicate effectively to those intended. We’re here to learn of course, but we also have to believe in what we do.

      3. Great! Glad to hear that 😄 Yes Sims is/was a very popular computer game where the ‘game’ was going about your daily routine with a budget…so you might sleep but if it wasnt a comfortable bed, your person was a disaster the next day, that sort of thing. Thank you for that great advice which I definitely will remember!

    1. Thank you so much! I’m touched to know I am thought of, for I do often wonder if anyone would miss me when I’m gone. I hope you’re well, Kris.

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