Back in Black

In the past few days a few people have asked me where I have vanished, and whether I have abandoned this already neglected child of mine. Considering how little I write here, thanks, I feel flattered (while secretly wondering why anyone is waiting for me to write anything). In this world full of rock-star bloggers and prolific writers who get TV coverage and book deals, may be, I am the indie artist with a small, hidden and devoted fan following. Maybe after it's all over, someone will dig up the archives and fit me into well-stitched quotes, word for word. Till that day comes I will stay in the square brackets, stay aside. And yet, I beg you, don't feed my ego so much, please.

Blogging is not what it used to be. People who I used to read have moved or moved on. Busy with lives, or have found other suitable obsessions. Some people who are still writing have lost their edge, like characters in the last season of a long running sitcom who have refuse to evolve. I know them, I know their jokes, and yet the laugh-track seems all too familiar. It's almost perverse... The others who are still writing have few hundred people leaving comments of the order of - "How sweet", "How beautiful" or "How right". It's cloying. Yeah yeah, who am I to say anything? Their blog, their spiel. They are better known than me anyway.

Oh, and the meta blog I liked has been linking to such pointless pieces -- it's almost depressing.

And to be honest, if I still needed to stalk, I have facebook.

Just a handful of bloggers remain who I actually *like* to read.

And I am not talking about anyone or any specific blog, nor is this a state-of-the union address, I am just trying to figure out why it doesn't feel the same anymore. Or maybe, I am not reading the right things.

Anyway, time to dig up the drafts. And to try and write again.