Pardon the enthusiasm

I've never written a blog. Infact, apart from frantic emails, I've never really used the internet as an expression. But honestly, I've always been fascinated with the idea. And finally I've arrived.

So like all firsts, I'm a little confused about where to start from. I've been a copywriter for six years now, but this time, I'm at a loss for words. For starters, there's no brief, there's no client and there's absolutely none of those 'life saving' USP thingeys. There's just me, a keyboard and a blinking cursor staring me in the face.

Anyways, it's 1042pm on a windy, mumbai night. In the distance, I can hear 'Singh is Kingh' which often gets punctuated by Nusrat. Normally I would have been home, staring at a bunch of wannabe celebs fight it out in an open house, plot, contrive and plan each others fate. Would have eaten my dinner, and crawled into bed. But today's a long night and nothing seems to be going anywhere- least of all me. Like most of my counterparts, I've resigned myself to a lesser life. The kinds that starts and ends at a workstation. Where the only friends you have are the ones you made in school and college and if you're not careful, they'll be gone too. I don't remember the last time I was a part of the plan. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a social recluse, just that each time any of my friends have made a plan, I've never made it. Work, edits, recordings, re-edits, bosses, brainstorms, artworks, 360 degree, debriefs and briefs have made sure I'm right where I belong. Do I feel bad? Yes. And no. Yes because all the pictures that I've posted on facebook, are of me alone, me in office and me on a shoot. And I get a brief glimpse into the evenings that I've missed out on other people's facebook accounts. And then there are those 'wall' messages. Always tucked into all the sweet, we missed yous are the one off snide ones- 'aap toh bade log ho'- GOD!!! reading that makes my blood boil. But that's another story, reserved for another long evening. Coming to the No, well, I love my work. I love the madness and I love the way it feels. It's mad, it can drive you insane, but it leaves you with a sense of liberation- sweet slumber is more like it. Beer can have the same effect, but the difference is best experienced in the morning after. And the best part, I get to skip the hangover.

I read somewhere, that writing a blog is like writing a diary- only the whole world gets to read the incoherent ramblings of your mind. But writing a diary does not have a beginning, a middle and an end. Because the only one reading it is you, so it really doesn't matter where you start and how you end, yet each time you read through it, the picture is always crystal clear in your head. So well, this is an experiment. An experiment to see if beginnings, middles and ends are really the only things that hold a wandering thought together.