I was hoping to write about this later, much later - after a month of blogging or so; after I was comfortable with the medium, with the strain of unlimited potential, and with the possibility that these entries could possibly be no more than notes to myself. Now, thus far, I am not comfortable with any of the conditions. Yet, I think I must articulate this basic nagging thought. Why do people blog? Why am I blogging?
Now, enumerative lists are boring so I won’t go into them. But from what I have observed, people blog because of this very strong, underlying sentiment best drawled out by Garfield, ‘Everyone is entitled to my opinion.’
Of course, when it comes to strong, underlying sentiments, we’d prefer to have them articulated by Nietzsche or Kant or other suitably tortured soul (a plump ginger cat not really fitting in here) – but I think it’s a very poignant truth.
Why do I go through what I go through? Why do I live the way I do? What makes my different from yours? What makes me same as you?
We prop up our worlds, our little complete universes with their own seasons and laws – why? I think we do that to reach out. It’s like that Zen question – if a tree fell in a forest and there was no one to hear it, would there still be a sound? Similarly, if I had all these spiffy ‘Aha’ moments while listening to Madonna or crossing a street, would it count as realizations unless some stranger disconnected from my world nods in agreement?
Blogging is, I think, de rigueur for all those who have stood in front of a cliff and hollered expecting to hear an echo. Every entry into a blog, I think, is a shout into the void. Every nod or furrowed response to that entry is an echo.
Now, who could resist that?