Of Blogs and Writing

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There was a time, not too deep inside the trash can of my memory, when I began each of my working days with a spot of activities that had no relation to the work I was doing. I would take about half an hour every morning to "settle down." This half hour was devoted to luxuries like a cup of tea, catching up with friends, and... something I looked forward to every day: reading blogs. My favourite blogs were listed in my blogroll, and every morning it was a delight to see a few of them updated. There were some others which did not make it to my blogroll at the time, but were interesting nevertheless and would make for a read on a rainy day.

What a mix of reading they made! The bloggers, who hailed from India to Canada to Australia to the US, wrote about their passions, their professions, news in their part of the world and things I knew nothing of. I followed them for the wonderful way they demonstrated their points of view. Each had a unique style: the way they wrote, the words they used, the photographs they posted, even the fonts they chose and the way their blogs were laid out. For me, every read was a learning. I would pick up a phrase that was beautiful, a word that was new or forgotten, a thought that was inspiring, a piece of news that was fresh, a perspective that was fascinating, a memory that was pleasant, a picture that was captivating, a skill that was enviable, a comic that was hilarious or an idea that was thought-provoking. It was the writing, most of the time, that took me back to them, I could see no other reason for my returning to blogs that spoke about things I had no clue on. I would devour them, sometimes over and over again because I knew there was something I could take back from them.

As time passed, more blogs were added to my blogroll. Some were removed because they, seemingly abandoned for months by their authors, sedimented at the bottom of my blogroll.

Though the attention I pay these blogs has now come down - I may not visit daily - the fascination with them remains. I still read and ponder over them, delight in them and learn from them, like a child with a new toy.

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