Struck by the Quill

I was today reading through archives on a friend’s blog and she had in turn linked one of my posts from my older blog… which took me there. Looking at posts on my older blog and reading many of them made me happy and sad at the same time. The time stamps on most of them brought me face to face with the fact that maybe the glorious days of blogging from office are long gone and are now buried under the pages of history.For example I have been trying to write that small piece on my trip to Leeds castle this past week but could finally manage it only today. Maybe it is the workload, intermittent access to blogspot and the pressure of planning/ thinking on what to cook tonight, that is taking the toll on me.

Nevertheless I want to write more regularly and I want to write about my experiences of these past few months. I believe it is the restless north wind (remember the movie chocolate) that takes us across shores and lands us amidst people who are like us, yet so unlike us at the same time. I want to write about the walk down Champs Elysées at night, about how consumed I was by the vastness of Versailles, about my queer dislike for London as a city to live in, about how I loved every aspect of Ipswich and so much more. Most importantly I want to catalogue as much of as possible, for all I know the restless north wind may never blow my way again.

Maybe years later, when the mundaneness of life becomes tiring, I will happen to walk through my blog and chance upon these posts. A waft of cool breeze from the murky canals of Venice might then just lighten my spirit and glittering lights of Paris might lend some colour to my dreams…


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