Main bhi writer

Like every blogger worth his/her salt, I too aspire to be a published author. Not the self-published, e-book kinds, but a real, hard-cover or paperback kinds. That people pay to buy and read. And at the thought of which trees (among others) weep. Inspiration has come from many fronts. Such greats that were formerly bloggers are now published authors. They reside in London and globe-trot playing poker and such. Yes, their books have brought joy to many and money to some, and I too aspire to tread in their footsteps.

By the way, what did you, dear reader, make of the above paragraph? Sophisticated enough? Polished? Not too many grammatical errors? No spelling mistakes, Firefox assures me…

So I have dreamed up many topics with plots, characters, sub-plots and more. I have at least 5 book ideas in my head. I’m on the verge of turning schizophrenic with the number of characters swirling about in my head. Not to mention locations, locales and other such details that at times put a question in my mind as to my present whereabouts. So where is this killer book, you ask? In my head (pay attention!).

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Sports reporting and its unfairness

I couldn’t agree more with what Sharda Ugra has to say in this post. Since the start of these Olympics Games and indeed before, I’ve wondered why the Indian media is so trigger happy. It is cruel to say someone ‘crashed out’ of the games without saying when it happened. In these Games, such a headline would perhaps have been fair to Bhupati/Bopanna after all their hue and cry before the left for the UK. But for the other players, I feel it is essential to also take into account what they have gone through to reach the Olympics before declaring their exits as crashes.

Yes, the performances have been far from satisfactory. The hockey team finished at the bottom. The tennis stars couldn’t get home any medals and indeed, their entire campaign was about the bickering that preceded the actual Games. The wrestlers did promise, but as of writing this, only Yogeshwar Dutt has delivered on a medal promise. Saina Nehwal did deliver on her promise, but wasn’t the expected Gold. Still, without knowing what has held these athletes back, it’s unfair to ‘crash’ them out.

So far as I can tell, these headlines get rewritten on the desk after a reporter or wire service has submitted it. Those who use wire headlines are simply lazy and anyways deserve an earful! But, for those on the desk who are ‘crashing’ people out of the Games, it is worth asking what their success story has been thus far… if any. Especially on a global stage. After going through qualification stages.

This perhaps need some sensitizing in the newsroom.

Blocked writer

On and off over the last few weeks, I have opened up a blank file to write an article. And after much staring at the said blank document, I shut it down and moved on to other less interesting but necessary things. Like work.

It’s quite frustrating having to stare at a blank page like this one (well, it was before I filled it up with all this, you know) and not knowing what to put on it. I have written on technology, cricket, auto, entertainment and yet, too often, I struggle to find something to write about. Not that I have a KRA to blog, but one wants to have a blog running after one has been running it for over 4 years. Doesn’t one?

One of the side effects of being the blocked writer is that the mind wanders. Witty ideas come to mind and fly away. Eventually, I suspect it comes down to discipline and willpower. One leading to the other. Not sure which leads to which, but I have a suspicion it does.

Perhaps the easiest way to get back to writing meaningful stuff and not drivel like this is to just write. Some stuff will be bad, some outright ludicrous and some apathetic. But there will occasionally be some stuff that’s tolerable. And that’s as high as I’m aiming right now.

That also implies that at some point I wrote more than tolerable stuff. Well, I’m allowed to think so about myself. And I won’t hear otherwise!

So here’s to more writing more regularly.



When the sun rays peep
from between the curtains every morning
they wake up
Only to see everything around me
But not me.

I tried hard
To force them to stare at me
At least for a second
Alas! Everything appears to be an utopian dream.

Throughout the entire day
They seek everything around
But totally ignores me.

They crave that
Visible things external
Forgetting to touch me
The self, within.

My senses.

What my blog tells me every time I look at it… I know. I want to change it… I will… soon.

Poem (c) cyclopseven.