Soumya shares the secret of why he writes and posts blogs. A confession for Different Truths.
I love the sound of my own voice. Trouble is that people tend to run away and remember important appointments whenever I open my mouth. So, I thought, here is a forum where millions are out to bore others. And millions are happy to oblige. So why don’t I jump in too? At least I won’t see them run away.
Goal: Find new victims.
Achieved: Well, in case you are reading this, to that extent at least…
Last time, I was upset that my employers are not appreciative of my many talents. I went back to my first love, writing, at my wife’s insistence, to rebuild my damaged ego. Getting published regularly in major newspapers and magazines and being paid for it soon accomplished this.
But a few rejections here and renewed appreciation at the workplace put a stop to this. Recently, when a similar occasion caused major bruising to my fragile ego, I went back to the tested remedy. Only by now my old methods were outdated. And this time around my kids led me to the world of blogging. And two veteran bloggers I knew patiently taught me the ropes and provided huge encouragement. A few other veterans offered hugely flattering appreciation.
Goals: Getting appreciation in the form of likes, views, ratings, shares, comments, and best of all, followers. Perhaps even someday little pictures saying – Top blogger in ****, or best blogger south of MG Road, or something in those veins. Maybe reprints in the media!
Achieved: Well, some at least. Though I console myself that my singular lack of quantity of readers is compensated by the quality of the few who do. Yes, I mean you. Those awards remain elusive though. And the media remains completely oblivious of me.
Now that my wife of over a quarter century, she is finally sick and tired of me. I thought some beautiful young lady was going to read my posts and fall head over heels for me. And pray why not? My mugshot isn’t there on my posts, and I can lie as much as I like.
This world seems largely populated by comely young ladies with a passion for the written word. And once upon a time, long-long-ago, a certain young lady was enamoured of my limericks enough not to be put off when she met me in person. And, in fact, she spent more than a quarter century in my company. If it happened once, why not again? I think.
Goal: This is happening in real life, not just fantasy.
Achieved: Still waiting. You are out there somewhere, aren’t you?
Visuals by Different Truths