The Post That Wasn't

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Hi !
Hope you are doing well….Me ? Don’t even ask. For the past 10 -12 days , I’ve been in a state of constant tension. No,no. Not agony-tension but a restless-fidgety-tension. You know, the kind that sends you drumming on the shopping cart as you wait behind five fully loaded shoppers at the supermarket checkout counter. A feeling that the clock hands are running like Usain Bolt and you are hopelessly stuck where you are.

After the loving welcome I got in the Snippets Forum, I resolved to be a regular contributor, as much for the joy of interacting with commentators as for the pleasure of writing.

My daily Virtual Reality time is between 9.45 pm and 12. All chores done ; telephones and the doorbell fallen silent. Time all to myself, my PC and <st1lace w:st="on">Indus</st1lace>, yippee !

Every day, I eagerly hurry to the Snippets Forum and after having read and fed back the new posts , strike the “New Thread” button ,. A Fresh New Blank page opens. This is the point where everything goes surreal. I just have to look at the screen and some kind of insidious osmosis process gets activated., The “Blank” seeps from the screen into my brain and I sit there, staring, staring, staring. What do I write ?

Its not as though I go and open the new window just like that. Prior Planning is always done, most assiduously too. Throughout the day, my attention would always be swirling around like a Fisherman’s net, ready to snare any incident or event that can be cooked into a Post fit for the forum. If I catch a fat, juicy Fish, I immediately marinate it and save it on a shelf at the back of the brain for use that night.. But as soon as I step into the forum, I get the uncomfortable feeling that my Fish has started stinking.

Just when I come prepared to write about dreams or charity or flowering plants, I always find a post on dreams or charity or flowering plants already there , with the FB account opened too. Some heavy duty telepathy at work here. So, out goes that stale fish, and I sit staring at the Blank Screen.
<st1lace w:st="on">Ping</st1lace> ! A flash. Should I write something on Extra Sensory Perception ? “ The USP of ESP” !
I start in good earnest. Tap -tap -tapping the keys. But wait, will this pass muster ? Don’t get me wrong. I generally do not agonize over what people may think of me or my writing. But here, the perspective has shifted . When our Boys in Blue do a rotten job on the Pitch, its not just those players who are booed. The Selectors also get slammed royally for poor judgement, favouritism and worse. Within a day ,Tehelka publishes “solid evidence” of how 13 cases of IMFL were surreptitiously couriered to the Selectors to buy a Nomination . Sordid ! So, I have a responsibility to save not only my skin but that of all those who gave me the Fitness Certificate for further driving. (<st1lace w:st="on">Ping</st1lace> ! I can write about my Driving Test ; title could be “Driven Insane”?)
Mark all. Delete. Start afresh.

But, my neighbour’s late night NDTV disturbs me. ( <st1lace w:st="on">Ping</st1lace> : “ War for Peace with Uncivil Civilians” ? )

All too soon its Cinderella Hour and I I return to Realtime. To hit the bed with the resolution “Tomorrow, I must. I will” Of course, that Tomorrow is yet to come.

There is a class of humans called News Hounds who sniff out happenings worthy of print from all likely, unlikely and nonexistent sources. Since I got Indusialised, I have metamorphosed into a Blog Hound , seeing the world as a series of Blog Titles.
The world is kind and bountiful , yielding blog material by truckloads. But, alas,
someone is always faster than me.

There are some amazingly prolific bloggers here. They blog with a speed that rivals the industriousness of Iyengar Bakery’s ovens which keep dishing out batches of Hot-Hot Ginger Biscuits, morning and evening. And equally delicious too . ( <st1lace w:st="on">Ping</st1lace> : "Snack Games that “Donut Baker” lost to Iyengar Bakery”)
Though intimidated by such energetic output, one never gives up or rests on past IL caps. One perseveres. One gets more observant, more imaginative . And more succeptible to other’s enquiring looks.

“ Anything wrong, dear ?” asks anxious MIL “ The podvalkai palya has become podvalkai soup . Please put off the stove”. ( “ Joys of Inventive Cooking” ! Snake-gourd jelly, anyone ?)
FIL is all empathy. “ Are you unwell dear, you look tired ?”
“ Oh no. I was just trying to find a theme to write about.”
“ Why don’t you write about the effects of social inequity and illiteracy on infant mortality rates in the developing countries ?” he suggests kindly.
I look at the ceiling fan . The Blank arrives earlier than scheduled.
“ You and your suggestion !” snaps MIL, supplying the unsaid .“ She writes for a ladies journal. I think she should write about MSG or PMS or IUD or….”
( SOS ! But , nevertheless, Ping ! : “ Woe-verhelpful Inlaws ” ? )

Others in the family are equally kind and supportive.
“ You can write best only about things you are passionate about.” Lectures the husband, joy of my life. “ Come on, think !” he coaxes, seductively, “What is it that you can always feel enveloping you, that gives you a great lift of spirit, that makes you sigh and go breathless often , that sometimes exasperates you, but that which you cannot live without ?”
I hug him, “You are a genius, dear ! Of course, I can make a wonderful blog about underwired bras, just the thing for <st1lace w:st="on">Indus</st1lace> !”
He extricates himself abruptly and leaves for an unusual game of cards with Mr.Govind. ( “ The therauptic value of Male Bonding”)
My son, the other joy of my life, is more direct. “ Ma, write a story about me as Batman with Spiderman’s power.”
“ I will Sweetheart, now go to bed, Amma has some serious work to do.” ( “ When Action Dolls sprout Angel Wings”)

They say music nourishes the brain, making it keen. So here I sit, melting in the lovely, poignant “Soruthihudu maneyaa maaligi” rendered soulfully by Raghu Dixit. Do you like Raghu Dixit ? I just llluuuuuuuuve his voice.( “ Living on Music and Fresh Air”!) For his last concert ,we had to wade through horrendous traffic all the way to Basavangudi ; it drove us mad. Hey, think traffic woes can make a good blog ?
“Malignancy of Metropolitan growth” or “The End of Eden” ! Yesss ! Great potential !

Think think think.. Tap tap tap tap. No, wait. It sounds like the grumbles of an 80 year old Malleswaram Grouch letting off steam in the Reader’s Letters section of “ Prajavani” newspaper.
Mark all, delete.

“….aaaa maaligiiiii” the song dies out. <st1lace w:st="on">Ping</st1lace> ! That song can make a great blog ! I start writing the translation of Sant Sishunala Shareefa’s philosophical lyrics. Now what’s the exact English word for “antaraala” ? Hmmm…taptaptaptap .

12 o’clock. I can hear the hubby snoring like a cement mixer with a bronchial condition. <st1lace w:st="on">Ping</st1lace> ! Perhaps a blog on “The Emotional Quotient of Snorers in Denial Mode” will turn out better than gloomy philosophy about Ignorance and Death and stuff.
Mark all, delete.

12.15.! Oh my god ! Have to be up at 5.30am. Better go to bed.
Tomorrow , though it never comes, I will write a decent blog.
Good night.