Skip to main content

Mappings

Vikram Seth has always been one of my favourite writers. I loved A Suitable Boy and From Heaven's Tale has filled me with a longing to experience Tibet.

Mappings especially was beautiful, with the classical learning, wit and lyrical charm of Vikram Seth. Who couldn't love The Tale of Melon City and From Mount Tamalpais or The Walkers and Moonless Night.

Take Sit from All you who sleep tonight for example

Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile.
You're twenty-six, and still have some life ahead.
No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I'll
Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead.

The world is too opaque, distressing and profound.
This twenty minutes' rendezvous will make my day:
To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around,
Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away.


But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about that little hit meter on the right hand side of my page, that registers above 10,000 hits and yes I know it's absolutely juvenile of me, but I did a little jig when I saw my blog had about 10,000 hits. It was wonderful to think that 10,000 people might have actually read my little blog.

I always wonder what the people who read my blog but never comment think. Do they like it? Is there something I need to change? What makes them not comment?

Every time I look at my little clustermap, I marvel at the dots on the map, Brazil, Peru, Paris, Germany. Pretty much everywhere is covered and I wonder how that has happened in just a year and a half of a blog.

It's a good feeling.

P.S: Yes, I know it's a nonsensical post. But I'm glad it's up.

Disclaimer: The management accepts no responsibility if 9,000 of the 10,000 clicks are her obsessively checking for new comments and admiring the pretty header.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The one with all the food

While I've already done the Happiness is tag once before, I've had food on my mind an awful lot lately. I'm comfort-eating myself all the way to obesity, but I just can't bring myself to care somehow. Anyhoo, Happiness is.. A steaming cup of tea and Parle G biscuits Brun maska and chai Cheese maggi (Double points if it's eaten in a ramshackle hut in the middle of nowhere in Ladakh) Fresh off the tawa alu ka parathas dripping with butter Mutton and cheese burger from Bembos Fiery Mangalorean sorpotel and sannas Tibetan momos from Dharamsala Mashed potatoes with salt, pepper and butter Candies classic roasted chicken Biryani made with fragrant rice and melt-in-the-mouth mutton Cheesy bhajji with warm buttery pav Paya soup from Bara Handi nalli marke Blueberry cheesecake A jar of Nutella and a big spoon Hot McDonalds' french fries sprinkled liberally with salt Rajma-chawal and fried fish Reese peanut butter cups Mangalorean chicken curry and panpoles/Neer dosas Ch...

Remembering Avanti

Day before yesterday, on the 8th of November 2008, Avanti Desai would have turned 21. Instead 15 days before her birthday, as she hurried home to celebrate her grandmother's birthday, Avanti met with a train accident at Jogeshwari station. Just like that. Gone from our lives forever. Leaving behind a huge void and the world a lot more gloomier. And when I got the call first thing in the morning, I couldn't believe it. I thought it was a cruel sadistic joke, but as the calls kept coming in, I realised it was true. Even at the cemetary,, it still hadn't sunk in that Avanti was no longer here. The worst moment though was watching her disappear into the crematorium, it was horrible and I couldn't believe we were leaving her there, and through the next couple of hours all I could think of was of her going up in smoke while we stood there in the bright sunshine. It seemed incomprehensible at first, to think of Avanti as dead, to talk about her in the past tense, to get...

The Roaring Twenties

So here I am on the eve of my 30th birthday, my very last day of being 29, just about 4 hours left of being a twenty-something. A couple of years ago, I remember snidely chuckling away to myself, when a favourite blogger of mine turned 30, believing that it was so far away, it could never touch me. I'm regretting that now. And to be honest, I thought I would be okay, I really honestly truly believed that I would be greeting this new decade with a casual insouciance and indifference that would normally be characteristic for me, but I'm not. I'm terrified of how quickly my twenties have zoomed by and how little I've accomplished and perhaps that is what is upsetting me. On the cusp of another decade on this planet, well, I feel like a bit of a failure. No, scratch that, I feel majorly like a failure. I'm drowning in self-pity and anguish at wasted opportunities, at thrown-away chances, at my inherent laziness and procrastination, at my never-ending ability to p...