Rising from the ashes

I stopped writing poetry in the year 2008. I was angry with myself. On a cold winter night, I heaped up all the notebooks and papers ripe with written words and set them on fire. I watched them burn slowly till the last flicker of fire went off. I was angry at my own work. I did not find any beauty in what I wrote. The poems sounded as if they were fathered by someone else.

I stopped writing blog posts in 2010. At one point, I was too self-indulgent and did not take any criticism. There were too many writers mushrooming on the new social media platforms, and I consciously decided that I will stay away from the crowd.

Today, every social media user is a critique or a photographer. There are few new ideas, and the works appear as if they are clones. There is some sort of invisible cartel and hidden agenda in these creations soliciting everyone to subscribe to a uniform worldview.

There is very little reading happening since everyone is busy writing on their walls and what people write revolves around what is trending. The same idea gets repeated, shared several times and gets consumed by readers and writers alike over and over again. It’s a vicious circle.

There are other dangerous undercurrents too in forms of political propaganda, fetish worshipping or bashing of public figures and advertisements curated based on individual behavioural patterns. These movements are continually invading our living rooms with or without our consent.

I will not proclaim that I am here to make a change. But I cannot sit quietly watching the degeneration of our society in the name of pseudo-knowledge. I will write, of things I see and perceive, and document the dear world and the times we live in. I will bring my drop to the ocean.

I will continuously voice my views against the hatred and prejudices, more particularly the crushing madness of the social network juggernaut.

 Whatever little I wrote previously, contained the very same evils I want to speak against. Therefore, as the first step, I cleaned up my backyard. I reviewed and chopped of the weed from my little garden of words.

My friends, particularly women had taught me some manners and chivalry which I previously was unaware of. My hands were trembling with guilt and shame while reviewing and editing the chauvinistic shit I wrote as a bachelor.

I had a choice to destroy all the posts in a similar way I had burnt the poems. Instead, by cleaning up my mess, I think  I found my penitence, for my generous friends had forgiven my flaws long ago.

More than appreciation, I seek your criticism for there are many topics to disagree with the worldview and with each other. I hope dissent, debates and original ideas will make a better tomorrow.