April 23rd, 2017


So yes, I feel like writing today. Perhaps, that’s a start. Perhaps not. It has been some seven or eight months since I had last written, and frankly, it feels like its been years. Sometimes, I come to this place, and it surprises me to note how I had been spewing such mindless gibberish for so long so consistently. I take nothing away from you readers, those who used to come here anyway; too often, a good mind deciphers some deeper meaning in a completely inane something, and accords greater value to an otherwise mundane little thing.

I had never wanted the blog to be a diary. Frankly, I don’t think I had wanted it to be anything more than a place where I would probably get some writing practice. The old adage which maps the route to perfection through practice hardly applies to me. If anything, as I continued to write, I went from bad to worse.  Perhaps, I ended up practicing my weaknesses more than anything else. When it became quite obvious that the exercise was counter-productive, I seemed to lose the will to even practice.

That was not all of the reason for the hiatus of course. I think I was just out of jokes. Its hard – this realization that one is not able to create any humor, when all one has ever credited himself with is perhaps a little sense of humor. I remember I had written a few posts too lamenting the loss of my sense of humor. On closer inspection, I have realized that perhaps there was very little of that sense in me anyway. I had just happened to be around an exceptionally gifted person, the narrating of whose eccentricities passed for some humor. When life intervened, and Jalali Baba and I found ourselves more and more engrossed with our own little lives, mine decidedly littler than his, I had fewer incidents and quotes to chronicle here.

There was nothing to write about. The world has steadily become a more violent, more depressing place. The injustice prevalent today and all the mayhem which arises from rampant injustice beggars belief. Or perhaps, until then, I had never fully realized just how pathetic a world we live in; and when the realization did dawn upon me, I was plainly over-whelmed by just how irrelevant I was in the greater scheme of things. I guess at some point, at least in some part, I had believed that I would be able to make a difference through the one thing I was passably good at. Writing. Then came the double whammy. I was not nearly as good as I thought I was, or at least could be one day. More importantly, though, I was far too ignorant, far too opinionated, and far too emotionally attached to my own convictions to be able to construct an argument that would even impress the next person – let alone, a whole zeitgeist.

I look at the wars, the inequalities, the insanity of spending billions and billions to kill people, to put people, animals and machines on distant planets, to entice people into spending mindlessly on things they have absolutely no use for or need for, while billions of people live on not enough food, and not enough to see them through the next day, and my system just shuts down. Crashes.

Is it any wonder that we are hurtling towards self destruction at the pace we are? Does our world, this planet even deserve to be saved? Perhaps, the planet should be allowed to just implode on itself. At least that will bring justice to all. Those suffering have nothing to lose, and those making their fellow humans suffer ought to lose all they have.

Is it any use writing such dreary thoughts? Will it achieve any good? I used to think I was an optimist, and perhaps I am being an optimist in hoping that this world will end sooner than later, so that the misery endured by the billions on this planet ends. Or perhaps, I am just being morose.

It is in times like these that I stop thinking about it all. Perhaps, wrongly so. Because, even I know that I have a responsibility to make this world a better place for myself, for my children, for everybody and for all the children of the world. It is also at these times that I feel completely useless and irrelevant. It is at times like these that I remind myself that the world belongs to Allah, and He has a plan.

Sooner or later, the next level in His plan will kick in, and we will be in a better saner world. And I will be able to write about my mundane life again.

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