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The reluctant blogger. The genesis.

There’s no originality in the title. I agree.

As words form sentences hereafter, it becomes more hazy as why am I doing this than doing anything else.

In the course I am also presenting my set of reasons to find a place in virtuality. 

The sense of “am I doing something great?” has always crossed my mind. Bereft of any pursuable vocations and most of the time in a crude primordial seizure of multi-tasking, (“One thing at a time” is a non-existent figment of an anonymous writer’s fable) the vocation of publishing a commentary never was a serious thought. Recording my personal memoirs or “Diary writing” was a risky proposition… I was too scared of being honest…and was extremely prone to violent shivers and trembles as I visualized my closest friends guffawing over my flights of fantasy.

I could not surmount the barrier of self-publishing. My fantasy was still about giving sound bytes to earnest journalists who surround me while they jostle and heckle each other to capture the words as they leave my mouth and evaporate. (in slow motion)

In the midst of the fantasy and in between certain heightened fiction reading interludes, there was a sense that I could make up for my lack of attentiveness by writing something odd. It never really took flight as a pursuable vocation till I chanced upon the reality that what happens around us is often not dictated by how we really want them to be. Being fed and clothed in the farcical communist idealism of Kerala politics, the sense of cynicism can be forgiven, I presume. Through course-corrections and adjustments in our expectations, we just trudge along, some to look back and some, never. It made eminent sense to record these.

And what you feel about something can change with time. And when you trace your initial thoughts on some issue, you suddenly become startled at how even your personal opinions change and evolve over time. There were also times when you have a point of view that escapes the opportunity of the ‘right time’. Logging those thoughts in atleast abates the sense of intellectual nausea. (wanted to call it ‘crapnausea’). The obvious downside being the time when I revisit them and feel embarrassed at my intellectual crassness.

Self publishing was also about soliciting acknowledgements. Narcissism is probably an extreme word for this- but there are scientific studies that highlight tendencies in facebook profiles. (Study: Facebook profiles can be used to detect narcissism).  I do not know of a single word that would communicate a heightened need for an psuedo- intellect- alter- ego combined with some self indulgent cynicism - the real motivation behind my virtual existence.   

My primary interaction with web-logs had happened much earlier - through an article in a general interest magazine on blogging and I distinctly remember Ajit Balakrishnan of rediff.com, extrapolating his reasons to get his views heard. Later on many CEO’s and opinion leaders had jumped into the bandwagon. Blogs even started opinionating my most enjoyable past time of reading current affairs publications. And then I discovered Orkut. Later with web 2.0, the possibilities of having a virtual identity –an alter ego became very strong and (now as I look back) is probably the greatest force multiplier in breaking the apathy towards blogging.

Thereafter, during certain dried up patches at the workplace helped by a lot of “personal internet time”, the seeds of “It's raining crap” was sown. The reasons for the nomenclature is best explained in the blog header.

2 years and 18 posts. The greatest dilemma is figuring out ways to keep it going. Especially now that I have exhausted one more. And that too, after almost a year. 

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