Monsoon bidding

The other day I read this on a friend’s fb status which was a retweet @yokoono: “Each time we don’t say what we want to say, we’re dying. Make a list of how many times you died this week.”

After having died a thousand and one deaths, I think it is time to revive my blog that was first started in a brief moment of enthusiasm in 2008. They (those in the know, I suppose) say the blog’s past its prime. That you can say what you want or what you will ever want in 140 characters. I remember I was at a seminar in a well-known media school and the speaker asked the audience if they had ever heard of the term ‘Blog’. This was in 2000 or there about. A few hands went up. Mine surely did not, but I thought to myself how nice it would be to have heard of the term and be part of an exclusive group which was attracting all eyes in the room.

I still, for most parts, remain a foreigner in this wide web world! Probably like to play it safe. Or you may say, wait and watch: see what kind of traffic is zipping across the cyber space. Most of the time, it’s an ugly traffic jam. But there are inspiring islands that I have been glad to discover. My concern was I should not add to the Internet pollution, if you know what I mean. And yet there’s this distinct urge to go on. Not as radical as running nude on the beach, but more like singing in the rain without a care in the world.

So there you are, I’ll be singing in the rain (or at least till the monsoon lasts and till we come to winter. And then we’ll think of something else) always on a Sunday. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll join in too. Till next Sunday then.