BlogMas 2016 Day Twenty - Chitthhi

Hello. It's Day Twenty. Five days to go.

I'm not going to lie. Daily blogging was easy in college, even amidst end of semester juries. No joke. I feel like a robot that doesn't need charging, but feels like it does. There need to be 40-hour days. If not enough sleep, at least there'd be enough time to finish whatever work you initiate every morning. The sheer amount of satisfaction at the end of a day, aaaaaa! Unimaginable.

I was listening to a very classic 90s Bollywood song. And I remembered this one day of a Lighting class - just consider there was a class because 90% were dozing. And since me and my friend (Read:Apek) were on the verge of dozing too, because hey, we were also bored. In retrospect, it would have been much better if there were discussions instead of writing Lighting basics on board like a school teacher, who in turn are so techie now. iPads and soft boards and all. I don't think children today will understand the charm of a blackboard. Or making screechy noises with a chalk on it, you know, just for the heck of it. Which reminds me, next time I stop writing and start rambling, kindly remind me politely to return to the prior. But politely, yeah? Or I'm more likely to gobble your head up. Joking. I'm not a goblin....That was a very bad joke.

Getting back. So, in that class from depths of hell, I started scribbling lyrics of this song and doodling beside it. My friend started the other half of the page with lyrics and doodles. And, it's funny that when you're not in somebody's physical presence or can't literally talk, you write. The art of writing to someone is sure quicker and much more tawdry because of phones now. But, you write. I used to write a lot to people. And with mails and social media, you don't need to do that anymore. But how special is it to write with your hand and not on a keypad, undersign it. Seal it and pass it on to be taken to the concerned person. A friend in the studio was telling me the other day about how she received a postcard from a friend in a different country altogether, and just how unprecedented something as simple as that one postcard was. I don't remember the last time I physically wrote to someone. Or maybe thought about them so much, I couldn't stop myself from picking up the pen, and letting it all hang out. I think we need to keep post offices busier. I reckon I'd like to try and limit the longer conversations I have with friends and my family to paper only. It'll delay what I have to or need to say, but it'll be that much more precious.

Until then.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

Ak.