Friday, July 8, 2016

What to write about

This is inspired by Naina's post last week on 'What to blog about.'

I woke up this morning intending to write an article for the website that kindly gives me a platform. And then I logged into Twitter and realised everything had been said. Everyone knew everything already. And everybody was right so I couldn't possibly even argue--although a less adda-argument-loving person you will not meet! And yes, I could write about how annoying I find the Southasian love of long-drawn out discussion. Makes me feel hot and tired and dehydrated.

Now, there are notes I have waiting, but I cannot summon up the discipline to fashion an article out of them yet, and I am also reeling from a young person's pronouncement that I am paid too little for my articles, so I won't go there yet. (Now, this money and negotiation thing, I could blog about.)

I could write something based on the travel diary I just finished writing by hand. But those images and words feel too precious to share as yet. I could share instead the rediscovered pleasure of writing by hand in a notebook. From watching the words form to witnessing how different my handwriting felt and looked at different times on the same writing day to the long-forgotten (if ever known) pleasure of sitting in a coffee shop with an open notebook and pen to just being able to start and stop the writing anywhere, without regard to power outlets and clunky laptops and Internet and so on. Writing in a notebook is a pleasure without parallel at the physical, emotional and intellectual levels. I could write about that.

Or I could share a photo and write about it. I could do that, I guess.

I have things to say about the TV shows I watch. I could tell you about them but there should be something in my life that is not in the public domain.

And I love it when other people do lists of music clips. I could do that too.

I could share with you the brown-and-grey depths of the funk I am in. But you have your problems too, I know.

I could even venture to write about something political. That was how this blog started out; I thought I would write about the things I was trained to write about. You might find out I actually know a few things. That would never do. The admission of ignorance is very liberating and suits a lazy person like me in the marketplace of egos.

I could write about how lovely it's been to meet old friends this week, one from graduate school and one from college today. But that's like a Facebook post.

But for now, my writing is like water in a pipe full of air-bubbles and noise and ego and worry and self-censorship and self-doubt. I have to let the words run for a while before they will flow. And I have to remember that I really don't care whether you read this or not, whether you like this or not.