Why?

A tiny speck of dust, I, float in measureless oceans of space. All I am is a vacant stare amidst a seemingly sophisticated world where I will never belong. Lost in a trance in a crowd doing the happy dance. Will faking a smile earn me an offer to stay? I never think twice about the price I’ve had to pay. Yes there was once a time when I would have liked to be understood. The time when I gave up reality for delusion, endorsing a new attitude and a made up passion. You see, the safety of monotony can mask the missing happiness.

© Abirami

What’s in a Name? – The Story behind my Blog’s title.

It is the first and foremost thing we judge everything around us by. If you met someone by a name that was long enough to be it’s own sentence, wouldn’t that catch your attention? I am Abirami Vellingiri Thirunavukkarasu. There. Say it without taking a breath in between. I dare you. Doesn’t knowing my full name change anything? Doesn’t it somehow change the way you look at me?

Abirami is a Hindu Goddess. My father being the religious man he is, obviously named me after a deity. My name speaks of my background, my roots. So you are indeed right to judge me by my name.

I still remember the days I spent, tormenting myself over what I would name my new puppy. After weeks of lists and agonising over various spellings, I landed on Dobby. I’ve always loved Dobby from Harry Potter and I decided I wanted my own little Dobby. But, as soon as I met my little pupper I knew that the name wasn’t right. He wasn’t that sweet, sad little elf. He was a happy, energetic, feisty little furball. And so he became Leo. I know that it’s a generic name for a labrador. But whenever I hear the name, my heart immediately feels fuller, I can feel the joy spread through my very bones. Names sometimes acquire meanings because of what they represent.

There’s a lot in a name.

I started this blog as a teenage misfit. Teenblogzz seemed like an appropriate name at the time. Over time, I have grown out of it. Since a name means so much I decided that it was time I made a change. That is why, now, at the top of your browser it says “obsessivewriting.wordpress.com” instead of “teenblogzz.wordpress.com”.

Its a weird choice of word, “Obsessive”. Weird just like me. That is how I truly look at writing. It’s something I have to do. Maybe it’s for self satisfaction, or maybe it’s my only outlet. Whatever the reason, it’s always been my obsession.

So what’s the story behind your blog?

– The Obsessive Writer.

Wordly Woes

It was another gloomy afternoon, as I set to work. Looking hard and deep for just about anything. Any frivolous theory, rhyme or word string. All at once, there it was, the faintest noise. It could have been the mid summer wind, for it had the grace and poise. Midst all the world’s ranting and chanting, I could hear them calling out to me. Out of breath, panting, I hear the words shouting out their plea. All these years of being taut and twisted seems to have left them tormented, being fashioned into ‘witty’ prose or ‘thoughtful’ poetry. Apparently, they dream of a life of ingenuity. They cried out to be relieved after ages of being besieged.

Let new verses trail your tongue and fresh lines be put to paper. Have your literary praises sung and creations left to savour.

© Abirami

To be a Writer…

All it takes is a feeling. A kiss that sends you reeling. The smell of the rain or the music that momentarily takes away your pain. Every where you look there lies an untold story. So, keep an eye out for the poetry. It’s not always pretty. Not if you want reality. The truth doesn’t have to rhyme. What has to be said, needs to be said when it’s time. Those demons on your shoulder, they will tell you,

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“You can’t”

“You won’t”

“Don’t”

Flick them off and keep writing anyway. 

© Abirami

The Life of a Writer.

A life on clouds made of what could have beens, where obvious thoughts always seem out of reach but conjuring up new worlds is as easy as breathing. A passion fully driven by the fear of censure and miniscule hopes of recognition. What was reality yesterday fades out of memory today and comes uncalled tomorrow. Determination that turns into procrastination after sudden fits of inadvertency as the goal is never permanent. A convenient oscillation between accomplishment and pleasure which once started out as the same thing. It is a life of delusional captivity.. a delusion that seems real enough to believe in, letting loose the grasp of reality.

© Abirami

18 Already!? – Teenage crisis.

Go back to your childhood for a moment.

Are you there yet? Okay

Think of that one thing you’ve always wanted.

Do you have it now?

Did it change your life the way you expected it to?

All that I have ever wanted is freedom. To become an independent adult, make my own choices and be my own person. I have been over protected all my life and I thought that being a legal adult meant that I would no longer be controlled by anyone or anything. (I know. I’m an idiot.)

This January of 2016 I did turn 18. Huraaaaaah! I can drive. I can vote! what not? The world is my oyster. It was really surreal for the first couple of days. And then, slowly, the excitement died and I saw the unfiltered version of this big “change”. It was everything I did not expect it to be.

You know how when you want something real bad? It seems like the greatest thing in the world. An unsurmountable peak. And then when you finally get it, it’s no big deal anymore. Well, that’s exactly what happened with me. That and some more.

It took a while, but then it hit me. I am an adult. I have responsibilities. I don’t even know the electoral candidates’ last names and I’m supposed to vote. I don’t even have my own bank account, or a job that pays but I swindle money like it grows on trees. All I wanted was passion in my professional life and here I am hating every bit of college.

It’s ironic that I spent all of my life waiting for this part of my life, and now that it’s here, I have no idea how to handle it.

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Maybe being this lost will urge me to find my way.

Sincerely,

The Obsessive Writer.