It’s 01:59 AM, there is a storm raging out of my window with raindrops beating against it in a steady rhythm, my room is dark and unlit except for the light radiating off my 2nd but new LCD screen and I am blogging, sleepless and a bit happy actually.

I spent the last half hour reading blogs of people I knew in some remote way. I wouldn’t term them as friends, rather, acquaintances, but for some reason, I feel this strange kinship with them, sort of like a women’s club (not women’s LIB). How do I put it… A club of women / girls rather who write, actually write and not about pseudo-intellectual crap but about what they know best about – themselves, their feelings and people around them. Again, this is not on the lines of “Oh, how my life sucks!” or “How I am ungrateful” or “How I am a baby because I cry” or “10 ways to slap a guy” or “10 zillion ways to make your man / woman / dog happy” or any of those. It is just…writing. How it is so acceptable and okay to write what you feel and have it read by people close to you, who know you and who don’t know you. It is fine to mention their names, use nick-names, bring up familiar stuff and just express yourself. (It is such a liberating feeling to write and not care about its consequences because words are just that, they flow and you can let go. You can string words along to make a happy sentence, a sad sentence, a poem, a story, a fairy tale, a thriller (I could go on but I’ll stop.) and even a full-fledged novel.)

I am at a loss of words to describe my exact emotion at this moment, it’s just happiness, I guess. I had always been under the impression that writing about the Law or writing about books or travel is a productive way of maintaining a blog, that this blog was just a rant and rave option but boy, am I so happy that I stuck to writing this blog! Even for all the mopey posts and depressed ones, I am glad I have something that has been journalling my life and allows me to the freedom to be myself with all my flaws and also in all my splendor and glory. Today, I came across a bunch of people who do what I do and are free, happy and are not being judged at their show of emotions on their bit of the internet space they call their own. It’s so perfectly okay to feel happy, morose, sad, drunk, cry, bash up somebody and…it is all okay!

What relieves me the most about reading these blogs was first, that it is okay to have a non-pseudo-intellectual blog (So we post Adele’s lyrics; so what!) and second, that I am a perfectly normal healthy individual! I can speak only for women / girls rather but we are just this way. And I am one of the many. And it is fine. And it is okay. It is such a relief that I chose to be myself than somebody else, that I am okay being this way. That every girl / individual rather goes through this long process to “find himself / herself” that “mythical self ” that they end up making mistakes. That everybody has insecurities and doubts. This year has been anything but kind to me but to have this one moment right now, this moment of feeling good about myself is what matters to me. I am not any of those negative things I had started believing I was and neither am I delusional or confused.

It takes a great deal of courage to own up to one’s faults, to express one’s insecurities, to really talk it all out, to doubt oneself, to miss people, to have made friends and trusted them, to have your trust broken, to be yourself with all your issues and hangups, to be happy one moment and sad the next, to just…be. It is an extremely rare occurrence to find someone who’ll appreciate it all and not judge you, that they wouldn’t hurt you or open the old closet with skeletons or rip of band-aids over hurts that refuse to heal. The best part about these blogs is that each of them has a close friend relating to them or being “that someone”. They are safe in the knowledge that they could be drunk out of their senses at 04:00 AM or crying insanely on their bed or questioning life, they would always have someone in whatever form with them. I read this one post expressing gratitude to the powers-that-be for Law School because it was where the author had found more than 3 people, who are not family and whom the author could trust with her life and love. That is the sheer beauty of living in a place which inspite of all that it is has a bunch of people who, mind you, are supremely competitive, ambitious and focused yet have this amazing network of blogs. That they have built these relationships that allow them to fight, cry, be happy and just be themselves.

I don’t have any of that (I belong to this supremely great batch of people who are blessed with barely an ounce of imagination.) but I am happy that I have myself, this moment, my room, my family, a handful of close friends and this blog. I might not seem skillful or talented in writing and may not have the smartest of things to say but I am happy that this is an aspect of myself I didn’t let die. I am happy because I am a girl who writes and reads (way lesser now actually).

p.s – I have been searching for answers / solutions to life’s problems on the internet and fyi, the websites which have these 10 pointers-to-do-whatever are the biggest waste of internet space. On the other hand, blogs and discussion forums are the most useful as they make you realise that you are so perfectly normal. It is on the lines of, “So, you’re friendless, so are we!”

p.p.s – This post lacks any connectivity and a tad bit of coherence as it is repetitive in so many bits but I am happy in this moment. All thanks to the powers-that-be! And my windows rattled harder when I said that. See, even they listen; read, actually.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s