Why I Write

"What do you write?" 
Many people have asked me this question after learning that I write. And my answers have varied greatly. 
Random stuff. Whatever interests me. Majorly philosophical. 
Why shouldn't my answers vary?!
Not every person listens attentively - One very important realization that turned out to be a major reason for me starting a blog. 
I was so narcissistic in believing that I was really smart and had loads of interesting/innovative/enlightening thoughts to be shared.
Probably true. Probably not.

A few of my colleagues smoke. One colleague to the extent of 4-5 cigarettes per day. 
I wanted to know the reason behind so many puffs of tobacco and asked him the same one day.
"It's difficult to explain..  It's..It's more like... It's something which helps you more than you think it does.. It's more like meditation.. Breathe in, breathe out..It helps you be normal.."
I could relate with his reply.
After all, I experience the very same thing whenever I smoke words. Every inhalation of a thought and every exhalation of a statement clears up my mind. 
Writing is my smoke on a chilly evening with a hot cup of tea. 
Writing is my meditation.

In the dark days after my failed romance, there were many things that kept me going. 
One of which was anonymous blogs where people shared their (failed) love stories and hoards of other personal moments. 
Reading the stories gave me hope.  
The hope that takes birth in a man stranded on a lonely island when he sees another man swimming towards him from a capsized boat.
And I want(ed) my writings to be such a source of hope for a guy from Turkey or a girl from Taiwan or a transsexual from Texas.
At times, it feels easier to connect with strangers than with the people constantly around you. Especially with the written word. Especially when in pain.

There is a general belief that when a person really likes doing something, he/she needs to pursue it as a career. 
Fair enough. 
But what about the irrepressible fear that denies to leave the person and continues threatening that he/she might not be really good at something he/she loves doing?!
How does one overcome this?!
I wish I could suggest a simple solution. But things do not work that way. 
Clarity in life is not attained by a blog post. It requires considerable introspection. And also a tinge of craziness.
I learnt it the hard way.
I started writing because I could.
I continued writing because I wanted to.
I write now because I have to. 

En route to becoming a proud Chennaite....

I was filled with guilt last week for various reasons. 
One cause was my previous post. One cause was under-average work at office.
But the main reason was the bright sunny mornings I was waking up to. 

The sun's rays, lighting up one half of the balcony at my flat, made me sad because my hometown that was famous for its sunny days was experiencing so bad a phase of rainfall that the people were praying desperately for the sun to smile again. 
I am sure that unless you are a resident of Chennai, you would not understand the severity of the statement.
A Chennaite praying for a sunny day is similar to an Indian homosexual coming out in the open with his/her sexual orientation. 
It almost never happens and if in case it does, it shows you the extent to which things have gotten worse.  

When things get worse, when a war breaks out, when nature decides to give a tiny vent to its anger, being surrounded by his/her loved ones becomes a major source of hope for a person. 
However strange it might seem (or perhaps not!), knowing that you would face the very final moments of your life by the side of a loved one makes the scenario a lot better than facing the same alone. 
Which is why, I underwent a new struggle living safely 350 kilometers away from the floods which every person who mattered in my life was fighting against.
Strangely, I was able to understand the struggle a mother/wife/son/daughter of an army soldier has to go through every day. 

Are the people of Chennai fighting against floods? Yes. But the battle is not as simple as that. There is more to the fight than wading through chest-high water. 
The real strength of a community comes to the front when it rises back again from a calamity. The real strength of a community comes to the front when the common man starts setting examples to the rulers. 
The common man is misunderstood quite often. 
He might be a person who does not offer his seat to an old man in a bus. But that does not mean he is incapable of carrying the same old man on his shoulders in a street filled with so much water that it transforms cars into submarines. 
He might be a person who holds numerous grudges against his neighbor. But that does not mean he is incapable of feeding his neighbors as they are huddled together in the terrace, hoping that the water that had entered their homes would recede.
He might be a person who does not give a second thought about destroying forests. But that does not mean he is incapable of performing such an act. (I just had to share this picture. The real Baahubali, perhaps)

I have always believed that adversity is of utmost importance for a positive change.

Anything really beautiful has a pain filled story behind it. Like a child that does not see this world unless the mother suffers greatly. Like a heartwarming story that does not reach this world unless the artist loses a part of himself.

Hence, I believe that the floods, in spite of all the havoc that they cause(d), are a boon to Chennai.

They would give way to better buildings. They would give way to better drainage systems. They would give way to better planning of residential areas. 

And they would also give way to something more essential. 

Nobler humans.

Which I look forward to eagerly.

In no time, I am going to be a really proud Chennaite - much prouder than I am right now.