Writing or blogging?

 Writing or blogging?

It was the kind of dinner where the host(ess) invites a motley group of people because

• she cannot decide who to fit with whom
• does not want to be trapped in some particular person/s’ company alone
• has to return the (dinner) favour but cannot spare time and effort or has no inclination to host them separately.

So, there we were, nearly 24 people, some of whom I had seen on some occasions elsewhere, a couple of them I could even nod or smile at. But I did not know any of them well and of course, they were unaware of my existence.

It was a rather smallish room for this big a crowd and the focus could only be on the person sitting to your left or right at a time. I listened to the conversation floating around me, there was some very good poetry recitation, much how-is-so-and-so, and with nearly all of them being older than I am, a lot of exchange of health news and serious medical advice from everyone, all non-doctors, present there.

And then the moment I had been waiting for, finally arrived. Dinner was served. I waited till the others had taken their small helpings before I could pile food on my plate.

The precise moment when I spooned the colourful veggies on my plate, the man behind me in the strangely ill-fitting maroon kurta and chooridaar with a shawl thrown over his left shoulder, asked in a breathy voice, “And do you also write something?”

Without giving it a thought, I said, “I write a blog.” As I looked up from the raita, I saw him jerk his head with what I recognized as contempt, pull his spine straight to its full length and haughtily walk off, swinging his hips.

I kept putting whatever I recognized on my plate and returned to my spot on the sofa. Yet all through the dinner, I wondered at his reaction.

There are hundreds of situations we live during the 24 hours our planet does a full circle around our source of light and life and this was not worth more than a miniscule fraction of that time. Yet for those minutes, countless questions flooded my mind.

Is writing a blog below dignity? I do not write something not permissible in the society. My blog is not violent/criminal/anti-social/racist/offensive/dirty/immoral and then I realized he had not even bothered to ask the name of the blog.

That was a year ago. I saw him again at an art exhibition last week and the scene came back to my memory, with the questions. Someone mentioned that the gentleman is a professor in the university here.

Let us accept the simple fact that I have no achievements or positions to my name, so no effort should be expected in the direction of anyone rushing to meet me. There was not the remotest possibility of him even remembering me.

I looked around the room. Almost everyone had appeared on the so-and-so-was-present-in-this-event photos in local newspapers and here I was, an ordinary woman, a mere filler. The thought occupied my mind for a few minutes.

There are more than seven billion people on this planet. It is impossible for everyone to be extraordinary. Just a few thousand are known or recognized for some ability or the other, and the rest are like me, plain, ordinary. And I, in turn, am like the millions of plants and animals, good and bad, beautiful, and ugly, useful or seemingly useless, that make up this world.

There is nothing special about us, this majority, yet some might be simply better than most others at some things. Who knows maybe I can cook better than Bill Gates, knit better than Gerard Butler, maybe even write better than Adolf Hitler.

And then, the world cannot work without us too. Living beings or elements of nature do not exist in seclusion. The tree has to have hundreds of similar looking leaves, the rivers and oceans are made of millions of unidentifiable drops.

It has been three years since I have followed this routine of taking the reader on a mental excursion so that a smile lightens up their faces. As the weekend nears and I sit down to type this non-literary, non-philosophical monologue about anything under the sun I find worth talking about, I visualize some of you sitting in front of me.

I personally know some of you, some I know of, others I have heard of and then there are those who are anonymous, unknown. To me every reader matters, and each comment is precious. The acknowledgement and love move me and I imagine you nodding your heads or smiling when you identify with a situation I write about.

I take this opportunity to thank you for sticking, for making my ordinary existence extraordinary. The very feeling fills me with gratitude and my heart swells up, thankful for the time and effort you share.

Whatever you are celebrating today - Id-ul Fitr or Akshaya Tritiya or a regular weekend, let us make this journey on this Earth Day together.

                                                                                           -Anupama S Mani