It's Thanksgivings Day in America. Like every year this day I take the opportunity to thank all my friends on Facebook for taking the pain and patience to go through my posts. As far as possible I try to inform you, amuse you playing the role of a raconteur and occasionally irritate you. But I love you all. Your comments and likes good, bad and ugly keep me going.
It is always okay to agree to disagree on my views or rather troll me in a respectful way. If I am wrong please free to correct me, but not the freedom of my free thinking which I cherish the most.
Ever since I started writing blogs 7 years back, never in my wildest of dreams ever imagined coming this far. A decent number of kudos started trickling in from my few lines of scrolls starting sometime in 2011, which motivated me to pen more and more. I haven't stopped ever since.
It is always okay to agree to disagree on my views or rather troll me in a respectful way. If I am wrong please free to correct me, but not the freedom of my free thinking which I cherish the most.
Ever since I started writing blogs 7 years back, never in my wildest of dreams ever imagined coming this far. A decent number of kudos started trickling in from my few lines of scrolls starting sometime in 2011, which motivated me to pen more and more. I haven't stopped ever since.
Compliments started to pour in - many from unknowns who admit of (some grudgingly) enjoying my writing. One went further "even if you write junk, I still make it a point to read it, don't know why. You have converted Bullshit into a form of Art." I took it as a great compliment. It's not easy to sell bull shit, unless you are Donald Trump.
I thrive to be a raconteur of human foibles. People love spicy stuff, be it food or writing. People may give a long speech about the Odia dish SANTULA (a boiled mix veg dish) or DALMA (a dish of boiled Dal and veggies) as great, healthy food. But in reality they cherish spicy chilli chicken or goat meat curry. I cater to the taste of my audience, unabashdly dishing out spice laced flavor to them.
I thrive to be a raconteur of human foibles. People love spicy stuff, be it food or writing. People may give a long speech about the Odia dish SANTULA (a boiled mix veg dish) or DALMA (a dish of boiled Dal and veggies) as great, healthy food. But in reality they cherish spicy chilli chicken or goat meat curry. I cater to the taste of my audience, unabashdly dishing out spice laced flavor to them.
I feel flattered when folks I barely know walk towards me to compliment on my writing. It also surprises me those never put a "like" or comment on my posts verbally admire me. A very pleasing experience to know a silent majority out there reading my post. Me too get a decent number kudos messages from fairer sex soliciting tips about writing which drives my wife nuts. Writing is an art. Never knew that art can attract so much attention until now, secretly wishing Facebook were there when I was young and single.
Last month in India a friend took me to his office on a working day. Chattering and mouse clicking of desktops came to halt. Heads went up as pens became silent. As my friend introduced me to his coworkers, adulations started to pour in - how they never missing my blog, never fail to share some with their children to improve their writing skills. I was pleasantly shocked by this rock star like heroic welcome, having done nothing heroic other than visiting them.
I get my fair share of brickbats and gauntlets too, for being occasionally blunt and extrovert - not afraid to speak out my mind and pokingly sarcastic at hypocrites. Not long ago, someone inboxed me, threatening me of thrashing upon my arrival at Bhubaneswar for a self deprecating joke alluding to Odias. I responded him back, a la some convict asking for last wish - "May I have my wish fulfilled before getting thrashed ?"
"What" ? He sounded confused. I went on - "Before beating me up, please spare me 5 minutes of your time and a can of JADAA TELA (Castor oil). PITHI RE LAGEI KI ASIBI (I will smear a liberal dosage of it on my back) and you can thrash me to your heart's content". He didn't respond any further.
I am not a brave person, but the threat of being beaten by some lumpen element doesn't disturb my night's sleep. Also, not sure the urban legend of castor oil being prescribed as an antidote for thrashing and its efficacy. Does it relieve the pain from getting beaten ? Does it act as a lubricant making the marauding hands slip off from one's back ? Don't know.
Accolades or gauntlets, by no means it helps me going, filling me with a feeling of immense gratitude. I extend my wholehearted thanks to them. Many solicit advise about writing. My answer to them - there is no magic bullet. It's like any creative skill. If it's inside you, one day it gonna burst out. So just pen your thoughts and let it take its own shape.
Some even suggested me to chose writing as a career. It is a great creative outlet and escape from daily drudgery in life, accompanied by a sense of pleasure and fulfillment. I don't have an iota of doubt about it, so plan to keep penning my thoughts till I go over the hills.
But writing as a profession? I don't think it is a pragmatic path to chose at this stage of my life. There is an immense sense of satisfaction, but frankly no money in this line. No offence to their professions, even the PAANA and MADA DOKANIs (betel and liquor shop owners), petty DALAALs (brokers) make more money than writers these days. It is the reality of our time.
My current profession does not pay me a whole lot, but pays my bills - with the additional safety net of some post retirement benefits. A la the electrical Main switch of a house, it keeps the power turned on in my home. Everything else falls in place and would stop once the main Switch is switched off. So at most I will keep it as a hobby, with a book or collection of articles sometime down the road.
After I have bored you to death with this long monologue, to those in USA, HAPPY THANKSGIVING turkey gobble day. To those Odisha, Happy CHHADAKHAI and KARTIKA PURNIMA. Stay safe and enjoy the day with your family and friends.
I get my fair share of brickbats and gauntlets too, for being occasionally blunt and extrovert - not afraid to speak out my mind and pokingly sarcastic at hypocrites. Not long ago, someone inboxed me, threatening me of thrashing upon my arrival at Bhubaneswar for a self deprecating joke alluding to Odias. I responded him back, a la some convict asking for last wish - "May I have my wish fulfilled before getting thrashed ?"
"What" ? He sounded confused. I went on - "Before beating me up, please spare me 5 minutes of your time and a can of JADAA TELA (Castor oil). PITHI RE LAGEI KI ASIBI (I will smear a liberal dosage of it on my back) and you can thrash me to your heart's content". He didn't respond any further.
I am not a brave person, but the threat of being beaten by some lumpen element doesn't disturb my night's sleep. Also, not sure the urban legend of castor oil being prescribed as an antidote for thrashing and its efficacy. Does it relieve the pain from getting beaten ? Does it act as a lubricant making the marauding hands slip off from one's back ? Don't know.
Accolades or gauntlets, by no means it helps me going, filling me with a feeling of immense gratitude. I extend my wholehearted thanks to them. Many solicit advise about writing. My answer to them - there is no magic bullet. It's like any creative skill. If it's inside you, one day it gonna burst out. So just pen your thoughts and let it take its own shape.
Some even suggested me to chose writing as a career. It is a great creative outlet and escape from daily drudgery in life, accompanied by a sense of pleasure and fulfillment. I don't have an iota of doubt about it, so plan to keep penning my thoughts till I go over the hills.
But writing as a profession? I don't think it is a pragmatic path to chose at this stage of my life. There is an immense sense of satisfaction, but frankly no money in this line. No offence to their professions, even the PAANA and MADA DOKANIs (betel and liquor shop owners), petty DALAALs (brokers) make more money than writers these days. It is the reality of our time.
My current profession does not pay me a whole lot, but pays my bills - with the additional safety net of some post retirement benefits. A la the electrical Main switch of a house, it keeps the power turned on in my home. Everything else falls in place and would stop once the main Switch is switched off. So at most I will keep it as a hobby, with a book or collection of articles sometime down the road.
After I have bored you to death with this long monologue, to those in USA, HAPPY THANKSGIVING turkey gobble day. To those Odisha, Happy CHHADAKHAI and KARTIKA PURNIMA. Stay safe and enjoy the day with your family and friends.
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