Last evening, I logged onto my WordPress account after a long time and was greeted with a couple of heartfelt compliments on my older posts. Though I have not written anything over the past few months, those compliments nudged me to pen this now. And ta-da, here I am with my 42nd post!
Since 2022 is coming to a close, I believe it is imperative to share what this platform has given me during this year. It started in April 2022 when I was looking to switch from Blogger (Blogspot) to a different blogging platform. By the end of May, I had decided that WordPress would be the best switch for me. During a break after my exams, I imported the page content from Blogger onto WordPress one night…and that is how ‘Woven Tales’ came to be.
As of today, I have a humble count of 61 subscibers (53 WordPress subscribers, 08 email subscribers), approximately 2.2K views, and 750 visitors that I am proud of. Initially, my blog did not have ANY visitors for two straight months (Uhm, one – I am a sporadic writer, and two – I am not great at promoting my content.) Gradually once I started publishing new posts, my earlier posts received appreciation. If I were candid, the first few comments made me wonder why someone would make the time to appreciate a stranger’s writing. But that is the power of this platform. Unlike the usual toxicity that surrounds social media, this platform oozes positivity (fortunately, I haven’t had any bad experience on WordPress.)
One might wonder why I’m rambling at length about WordPress and my page. OK, here’s the deal. 2022 has been particularly rocky for me. Yet, two things that have constantly been there for me are – this page and my readers. This post is my way of thanking my readers for constantly encouraging me. I feel blessed to have earned wonderful readers who have always taken the time to appreciate my work and the effort that goes behind it. I’m eternally grateful for the love that I have received on this platform hitherto. Every comment is posted with love and warmth besides appreciation and needless to say, every compliment is special and close to my heart. In times of self-doubt, I have revisited my posts in a frantic search for affirmation & these comments have always reassured and cheered me up.
Thanks for all the love and support! These 6 months on WordPress have been engaging and enriching. In the upcoming days, I promise to become better and more regular.
As I sat there in breathless silence,
The silence felt louder than the noise,
And yet it somehow lent solace,
An unexplainable feeling of calm;
When the cold breeze gently grazed my hair,
With pursed lips, I smiled into the yonder.
Rain droplets trickling down trees and into puddles,
The sporadic cawing of a lone crow atop a tree,
These were the only sounds I heard.
Besides that, there was an absolute standstill!
Hitherto, I had always been in love with rain.
And yet, for the first time today,
I fell in love with what came after – the quietude.
In picture : Chennai Egmore Museum – Tamil Nadu, India.
Navaratri – nine nights filled with festivities,
Cheerful women clad in brick red silk sarees,
Throng into the quaint lanes of the city;
To celebrate the triumph of good over evil;
The deity’s idol shimmers in glints of gold,
And the city shines in vibrant hues of joy;
The incessant ringing of the temple bells,
And the beating of drums in jubilation,
Fills our ears, devouring us in its sanctity,
Tis’ accompanied by the devotional chants,
Celebrating the glory of divine femininity;
Temple oil lamps have been lit – The scent,
Of incense sticks and the jasmine flowers,
Fills our nostrils, drawing us into a trance;
The Goddess stands mighty – bestowing us,
With her blessings and all her protection;
We sway our heads whilst in that reverie
We drench ourselves in her sheer devotion;
Consumed in this mystic melody – and,
An empyrean experience of adherence;
A dainty flicker of hope on dark nights,
Rekindling our belief in the divine Goddess,
Navratri – a solace amidst our difficulties!
(written on 30th September, 2020)
I write to make peace with the things I cannot control. I write to create fabric in the world that often appears black and white. I write to meet my ghosts. I write to begin a dialogue. I write to imagine things differently and in imagining things differently perhaps the world will change.
– Terry Tempest Williams
Sometimes, the tough times bring out the best in us. The year 2020 made me feel like I had fallen into a pit and was uncontrollably spiraling downwards. It also made me realize that I was unaware of who I was as a “person.”
Though I can articulate this now, back then it was a blur. I dabbled because there was a lot on my mind; I wanted to free up my mind to accommodate more chaos. But eventually, I understood that it meant something more. I saw writing as a process of “revelation.” It was a means of discovering aspects of myself that I seldom knew existed. So, to me, writing was an expedition to find myself.
It is not just that. I am an introvert by nature. When I lacked the gift of gab, I felt helpless and weak – muted. But when I began journaling my emotions, the words came to me when I beckoned. It helped me find the strength I needed and was empowering in an ineffable way.
Why will I keep writing?
Of course, it makes me content : P I wouldn’t trade it for any treasure.
But yes, I dream of using my writing for a greater purpose.
Hitherto, writing was a means of expressing “my” experiences, thoughts, and perspectives. In the future, I would like to write to empathize with other people and their experiences. The power of a pen is familiar in this world. It is in our hands to choose its purpose wisely. I strive to lend a voice to the perspectives that have gone unnoticed.
And I hope to get there one day : )
Dear Reader, What makes you want to write? I would really love to know!
Why do we indulge in an intense tug of war?
Has all our passion turned whisky sour?
Why is it – one step forward, two steps back?
Is it that this mystery is too hard to crack?
I sit by my window – star gazing, as I wonder,
If the moon, the sun and the stars over yonder,
Encountered this profound perplexity too!
I wonder if they fumbled to etch their fairy tale,
If the moon, envious of star’s shimmer went pale;
But beyond the pallor of the silvery moon,
I watch a harmony creating a mystical high;
A fusion of the nature’s puppets – floating,
Surmising us to shove aside the foreboding;
To concede and evolve like a moon’s phase,
To live ardently, with ecstacy and grace!
(Written in January 2021 )