In the past couple of days I have opened the blog and stared at the 'New post' page many many times. Sometimes wondering if I should write, at times wondering what I should write, sometimes just happy that this marks by 100th post, sometimes just checking out the font/picture options here. This doesn't happen too often because I no longer blog as a compulsion. I remember the first couple of attempts at blogging when it was more a compulsion to make at least one entry a day, an effort at proving (to God knows whom) that I am a regular blogger. Well that was not to be and the excitement died down rather soon. This time, however, it was different. There was no forced effort. It just happened. Thoughts crept into my mind, frustrations were brewing in there, excitement was waiting to spill out, anger popped its head and at times laughter took charge. My mind and heart was busy cooking a cocktail of emotions and I just had to share it with someone. I love expressing my expressions.
Giving it a little deeper thought I realise, it's loneliness and silence that cemented the bonding with my blog. I can't remember a phase in my life when I've been surrounded by none else than myself. In the past one year I have been my biggest companion. I have had my biggest debates with myself, had the most bitter arguments with my mind, laughed loudest at myself, shared jokes with me, cried like a child with my heart, flirted with myself, shared my secret fantasies and attractions and so much. I am so full of ME.
Living in an apartment rarely allowed me to be myself. I was lucky to find some absolutely crazy, warm, fun-loving and lovable friends. We took community living to such heights.... Every home was just an extension of each other's houses. We'd walk in and walk out of bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchens of any house at any time. Our partners often found their bedroom taken over by the lady-next-door while his wife was busy cooking snacks for the kids-next-door. It was the maddest and best-est days for me. And then one by one, the friends moved on. They bought their own homes--pretty, cosy and beautifully done--and moved in to their own space. Of course I was thrilled for them, love their homes, but I miss them all. There is this feeling of sudden loneliness. My days now begin and end the same way, every day. Partner goes to office, little one either goes to school or plays around for a while, eats, sleeps...and am left with myself following the same routine.
I miss the laughter, the chatter, the loud laughs, the coffee/lime juice that aunty sweetly bought us while we chatted away sharing gossip, jokes, dirty talking. My little one too misses his first friends and his favourite aunts who pampered him, played with him, gifted him lovely things and took care of him whenever I needed help. I miss the yummy dishes that my next-door-aunt brought in almost regularly knowing my love for anything non-vegetarian.
People can leave such a lasting impression on you. I still visit them all whenever I can, speak to them often, but it's not the same as seeing them, spending the day with them and sharing the moments and laughter with them. It's this loneliness and this unwelcome silence that's brought me closer to my blog. Thanks for being there when I need a patient ear, a warm hug, a punching bag, a shoulder to cry on. Thanks to you my blog for taking my emotional outbursts, rude comments, bad temper, crazy fantasies, heart breaks, sob stories, giggles, loud laughters...thanks for tolerating me and allowing me to speak my heart, mind and soul through you.
I miss the maddening crowd. I miss the girly giggles. I am glad I have my 'cuppacoffee' to keep me going.