Fits and starts

Most of my time goes by nowadays in reflection. I reflect on my childhood, on what I've grown to become and what I wish I was. Blogging was a very small part of my childhood. When I first decided to start blogging, I was a pimply teenager looking for a place to vent himself. I never had high expectations from my writing, and I knew that my parents would in all probability be my most regular visitors. But I loved writing, and story-telling, and outlining the confusion in my head. Maybe, in a pimply teen-aged kind of way, I was putting myself out there in the hopes some one would pay heed to me, and tell me what was what.
That didn't happen.

But something else did. I don't know if any of you have ever written a diary, even for a few days every year, like I used to, but the feeling when you come across some old piece of paper you'd scribbled on some while back is amazing. Its like the Richard Bach novel, 'Running from Safety' comes to life, and you are talking to a younger, foolisher self of yours. I admit the long distance communication is decidedly one-way, and that is sometimes frustrating. The fact that you could have maybe guided yourself in a particular direction had you known better then is frustrating sometimes, but you learn to live with it. That's what maturity is, I suppose.
The beauty of finding a stack of old notes, however, lies in the realization that, for better or worse, you've made it a long way from there. You can trace the changes in you, you can almost see your footsteps grow in size, and make deeper imprints in the sand as you walk along the beach of life. You feel happy that you were strong enough to make your choices, and proud enough to stick with them.
That's what I felt just now, as I stumbled upon my old blog. I felt happy that I had grown. And if only to make some future self of me happy, when I next open my blog, I felt a need to write something. And this was it. I hope you like it, future Samanyu.