Here’s me trying yet again to start blogging . Writing things down was once a compulsion that petered down to random lines here and there. After a really long time I felt that compulsion again. Today was different in many ways.
I spent a lovely evening with a friend and my sister, hogging on street food.
We made an impromptu decision to visit a near by beach town , compulsively convinced my sister to tag along and then promptly dropped the idea ( I am disappointed 😦 😦 )
Had a hot discussion on why Modi is our best bet and how we collectively hate all politicians
Had a fleeting thought about how not being religious some how depresses me over festivals. I feel no connection and I hate myself for it.
Sister spouted some home truths that made me feel even more dissatisfied with myself.
I persistently think that god made me and then broke the mould in despair. I mean – why can I not have a single response that matches with the people I usually hang around with, when it comes to social niceties et al.
I created this amazing blog post in my mind about waiting. And how I feel that I have waited for life to jump start for such a long time that I have missed the fact that it has already jump started and I am reeling in consequence. But of course I lost the gist of it while I attempted to write. It always sounds better in my head.
I started reading Krishna’s Key again on a whim. It makes me want to read all the Upanishads and Vedas. May be I should take up learning Sanskrit. My neighbor teaches it .
Found David Attenbourgh’s videos so entertaining and longing inducing. I want to get lost in some unexplored land or live with some people wherein I dont know their language and I have to survive on wits alone. Wouldn’t that be something ??
Just read a quote on Facebook about writers are desperate people and may be thats why I have stopped writing. I am not desperate any more ? ( To be honest this quote triggered my writing)
May be I dont want to stop being desperate ?