It is so easy for me to speak my ideas out. Better to think on those long lonely roads while walking from one place to another.

But when it comes to writing, the mere act of translating these very red herrings into coherent train of thoughts,words fall flat on my face or rather my blank laptop screen.

Question is why? Why is it that when I spend hours contemplating on what exactly to write, the end result eludes me by a long stretch of things.

At the risk of sounding a bore, when I began blogging my idea was to speak. Given I am an extrovert who barely ever reveals any inner thoughts. This was tough. It is very easy for an introvert to blog. Which is another thought I will explore on this very space as we read.

Coming back to subject, I had started to blog because I felt I had something to say. At random. Not to my roommate, my best friend, my sister, my father- but to no one in particular.

People or rather a close set of say five friends read me and pronounced:

Too complex

Too strange

Too convoluted

In a nutshell they simply wanted to tell me- “Please just get to the point“.

But wasn’t that the very reason why I had started writing? To simply get to the point. How could I begin with it?

Blogging was a journey. Putting myself out there. I have always been writing in private, still do. In fact a friend who herself writes a lot but doesn’t blog, asked me: How can you put your writing out there?

Maybe that was the crux. I wanted to challenge myself. Put myself out there through the written word.

What did I achieve in the end?

Wading through a series of romance, technology, parenting, poetry and what not post I began to lose my voice. I lost the point. Forget getting to it.

And yes quit. This was the first time I quite blogging. Then I returned again. Forcing myself to read everything. And discover the one odd blog who writes differently. I was lucky, I found a whole lot of them. Write Tribe.


Have you found your lonely spot?

We keep deviating. But coming back to subject (once again!)

I still managed to lose space. Yet again. I realised I wasn’t being honest enough. Again. I had the responsibility to convey my ideas.

And it went on going in circles in my head, until one fine bright morning I realised: I am not a Haiku person.


I meant that I learned how to write a haiku. Practiced it. Tried writing it every now and then. Even forced encouraged myself to enjoy reading a few. But only a few weeks back I hit my eureka moment.

I am not a haiku person. I cannot write it. I might enjoy an occasional one which is not about nature but a lot about dark grey sides of life. That’s about it.

But you see this isn’t about Haiku. It is about finding my own calling in words. Maybe one day I will be able to send out the message out loud. But until that happens, I only wish to know one thing. Writing Haiku I do not like. Maybe tomorrow even free writes go off.Β 

Not tonight πŸ˜€

On a serious note, writing as a process is your own. And this idea has taken a firm precedence in last few weeks. Striking out what cannot be a guest here is one of the activities. How do you ask yourself this question? What is your writing trick?

But more importantly, tell us, have you found your voice? On blog or otherwise.

Author’s note: We as in The Philospher’s Stone and its gorgeous self centered narcissist prick of an owner, has decided to self destruct and find some meaning in writing. In case you wish to not read us we suggest forward this post to someone who might like. And if you loved this, then first of all cookies and tea awaits you in Pune, also do read our last post here.

Connecting it with Write Tribe’s #MondayMusings

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