There’s something about writing - it releases you. It pulls out your raw thoughts and turns them into letters and words. It makes you think about those thoughts and then place them. It gives you a sense of belonging, a sense of meaning. And then it goes and unfurls everything and makes you feel lost. Makes you feel like a speck in the field of dots. Then you write more and you’re back to thinking and breathing and believing in those words as you type them. Hoping someone will read? Or maybe not. But when they do read, you wonder what they are thinking. You want to know. You’re curious. Not because you want to sync your thoughts, but because the beauty of words is in its difference to the reader. It is never the same - to you and to me. But there’s something about it, so powerful, so encapsulating, that binds us together. So much in a word, but to him it’s just another word.
I thought posting on Jan 1 would help me come back here and post often, but alas, the next post happens more than a month later. Well, I can’t entirely say I was demotivated to blog, because I was not. It’s just hard to find time amidst learning new things, being a part of many projects and reading research papers. And the weirdest part is that my timings are erratic, so I can’t even ask mom to shoot for me. Ugh. It’s frustrating. I love this space. I need to get back here.
It’s that time of the year again, the end of another semester. Gazillion things to be done, but here I sit typing away on my laptop because I really need to be here, in this space. It felt horrible and wrong to just not come here for a month. And I dug up some pictures that a Pingu shot for me at her place. The stories from this night are pretty amazing and I’ll save that for another day. Maybe over hot chocolate at Starbucks? Oh, these shoes are officially dead. RIP beautiful shoes.
Photo credits: Pingu aka Sneha
See you soon?