A writer’s life is fraught with many distractions. A looming deadline for a huge project, unmarked exam scripts, lesson preparation for that class on sociology, and a sick parent’s medical appointment, these are important and unavoidable duties and responsibilities.
Even if I were to rank them, all would be equally important and cannot be excluded from the priority list. So, when do I write that blog which I promised myself and how will I find the time to update it daily.
What started out as an enthusiastic venture full of personal resolve and dedication gave way to other necessary activities and obligations that had become routine commitments.
To add insult to injury, my fertile mind was racing ahead with ideas, opinions and arguments about breaking news, emerging trends and tabloid gossips. Many thoughts and reflections were colliding to be recorded and published, but my vanity was curbed by a healthy dose of cynicism that chastised me with a put down that nobody cares about my “ two cents” worth views.
But I reminded my hurt self that I write for myself. And if others were to read them and are pleased, it will be a bonus for my effort. Otherwise, this is for me from myself. I know critics may cringe in derision at my egoistic aplomb, but I believe one should stand up and right for one’s convictions. It is a self-realization of sorts. If I fail, I will learn to try again. If I succeed, I will learn to do better.
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