I should have put this up quite some time back.
This blog started as random rants unleashed anonymously and would probably have stayed that way had friends not stumbled upon it and done much to publicize it. Given a certain predilection towards showmanship, I’m glad these particular waters have flown under this particular bridge as the thought of an unseen audience that had to be wooed at any cost did much to refine the writing, balance it, etc. On a more personal note, with all this happening at an age riddled with existential crises, the words here gave me an outlet first and then an identity which still feels more real and vaguely sustainable in the longer term.
Having said that, i’ve continued to rant, alienated some, endeared myself to others and so on but there’s always this annoying fork in the road; while I couldn’t possibly be sure as to which branch would count as the more-traveled one and which the lesser-traveled, i’m picking one over the other anyway and trying to lose the blogginess and turn this into an online portfolio of sorts. In the words of my 11th-12th Standard IIT-JEE Physics teacher, “at some point you have to decide if you want to continue as a homemade mom-pop type of business, or take it to the next level, go professional, that sort of thing.” (as per a memory blurred by time and other equally free flowing intoxicants that you don’t really notice flowing but leave you with that “where the f*** did it all go?” feeling.)
So yes, after i cross forks the writing gets to do so too; less log-on-the-web, less reality in the mundane i-ate-muesli-i-had-the-loosies-i-like-fuzzy-puppies-and-Farmville-but-not-Narnia sense and more art and more life with all its misery and futility and schadenfreude and irrational optimism, hopefully.
More darkness, for dark’s my voice like Woody Allen has his whining and SRK his neighing and Clint Eastwood his speech-substitute chewed-up cigar move and Russell Peters his ever-darker-and-mildly-and-occasionally-wildly-inappropriate racial humour.
And like your average Indian nerd-turned-writer has his I.I.X. pedigree and palpable sense of entitlement towards Hinglish literature stardom. Not.
I’m not sure i used “not” correctly back there.