BEFORE AND AFTER

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BEFORE AND AFTER

My take on the indiblogger prompt of life before and after indiblogger

LIFE BEFORE INDIBLOGGER

Time: Any random weekend or even weekday evening

Venue: My bedroom

Scene: Me, lounging on my rocking chair in my shorts, back from a vigorous walk by the sea (when in Delhi or Kolkata – back from my swim) A brimming mug of beer and a bowl of wafers within easy reach. An open book is lying on my lap. Either the TV is on playing some sitcom, or the music system is playing what my mood that day dictates. The Dulcet voice of my wife wafts in along with the aroma of dinner, saying,’ are you going to join us or should we start without you?’ I seek a few moments more till the episode or the chapter ends. I am told that I can heat up my own dinner whenever my heart desires as she is turning in early to catch an early flight the next day. In other words you get a glimpse of a typical scene of peaceful happy domesticity.

 

 

Enter Indiblogger

Initial days

Time: Ditto

Venue: Ditto

Scene Ditto with a small addition, the laptop on the lap top

Minor variation in the Dialogue: Now I respond that I will just finish this post, instead of the sitcom or chapter, the rest is as usual. Sometimes helpful criticism like ‘Some more of your narcissistic outpourings?’ add zing to the dialogues.

Time passes by. My Indivine rankings improve. I actually gather followers. Strangers like and comment on my posts. I notice others have Best Blogger of Tikrampur and other such placards adorning their posts. I turn a vivid shade of green. I decide to redouble my efforts to have those million hits and miles of comments and multitudes of followers, along with the various prizes like trips to Timbuctoo and shopping coupons for sanitary hardware.

But alas! This is not to be. Now I have lost my peace of mind and beauty sleep trying to find the magic formula. It is understood that I will heat my own dinner. I am merely pushed aside along with my laptop to make place for dinner mats.  Indivine you have made me taste blood and taken away my sanityImageImage

 

This is the new me. Thank you Indiblogger.

 

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Published by Wiseguy From The East

Soumya is an alumnus of St Stephens College and Delhi School of Economics where he was supposed to have studied Economics. He, however, did not let studies interfere with his education. Currently he earns his daily bhat mach by working for a PSU Insurance company, and lectures for peanuts. He is addicted to the printed word and has been devouring it since learning to read. In whatever time this leaves him he pursues his other passions, family, films, travel, food, trekking, wildlife, music, theater, and occasionally, writing. He has been published earlier in TOI, HT, Express, and other lesser known papers and magazines. He is currently trying to learn the ropes of tech challenged blogging. He has published what hopefully is his first of many novels, Memories, the hilarious nightmare of growing up and has a weekly humour column in different truths.

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8 Comments

  2. ‘Blogging is a dangerous mistress’: If you watch DD, you may have seen the following ad: Farmer’s berates him wrt his mobil phone (which he uses to connect to the National Farmer’s Hotline) : ab mujh se baat kyon karte ho, baat karo apni sautan se…..’.

    Your dangerous mistress has not only keeps you away from food, but has also taught you new tricks. Beware: have you seen BA Pass? Hopefully, YOUR dangerous mistress will not lead you any further than writing. Pl. watch BA Pass as a cautionary tale.

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