Five hundred posts.
Short, long, joyful, sad, juicy, boring, personal, political and everything in between. When all is said and done, that is something. I'm faklempt.
But not for long. Read on.
Blogpourri was born in Bangalore. It started out as an online repository for the few published pieces I had at that point. It took me a while to figure out how to put them up online. Meanwhile, I was visiting the hospital to care for a family member when I ran into a woman I had seen the day before. She was alone, taking care of her husband 24/7 all by herself. He had suffered a heart attack at 38. They were at least a hundred miles from their home because there were no facilities in their hometown that could handle his condition.
This was a Bangalore I did not recognize. Not because this was the first time anyone had found themselves in that woman's predicament, but because this was the first time I had lived in Bangalore as an adult, as a wife and mother, as someone running a household instead of just being a needy part of one. I saw my hometown with new eyes, as a member of a community with a stake in it but with the emotional distance of an itinerant.
I felt like I wanted to put everything down somewhere before I forgot, before the passage of time dulled the intensity of my experiences. Soon the blog morphed into a record of our Bangalore life - schools, hospitals, infrastructure, family events, activities, travel, parenting - into a pot pourri of topics and ideas. Blogging found a purpose.
I'm not really sure now how long I would have gone on writing on the blog if a few kindred spirits hadn't taken a chance on me. You left thoughtful comments, you questioned, you prodded as old friends do, you debated, you praised, you linked to my posts. Yes, writing for its own sake is good. But it is an infinitely more enjoyable experience if I think someone is actually reading it.
Two years later, another town, another train. We moved back to the US and blogging seemed useless. The bulk of the visitors and comments on the blog related to our experiences in Bangalore - expats looking to move to Bangalore, NRIs looking to move back to India. I was unable to replenish the blog with posts relevant to what people were on the hunt for - new, up to the minute information about Bangalore. So for a while I shrank back, fully engaged in battling identity crisis. City lag lasted way, way longer than my worst jet lag to date.
Then the elections happened. Obama, Palin, Clinton, Clinton, McCain. Joe the Plumber, the debates, the stump speeches, Palin's wardrobegate. Tina Fey. Who could resist? I was a political junkie to begin with, but this election clearly put me over the top. And most of this drama was unfolding in my city to boot. I did not end up blogging a whole lot about the elections, but it sure did give me the impetus to get off my glutus.
Blogging seems way more fun the second time around. I have no idea why I felt hamstrung before, but I feel less constrained about the choice of topics.
Again, a heartfelt hat tip to all of you who came back to read (after being abandoned for what is an eternity in blogdom) and to all of you who have come here to read for the first time recently. Your visits do mean a lot, your comments even more so. It is particularly thrilling to find a comment on a long-forgotten post. I am delighted that Blogpourri is able to help you, in whatever small way it does, as you find your way back home or to places as yet unexplored. And I wish you did not need information about certain terrible events, but if you needed to feel like you are not alone, I'm glad you found a place to come to. It is a joy to exchange thoughts about books, movies, parenting and life events with you. Knowing me, knowing some of you (and hoping to know more of you), I will cherish this precious alliance for a long while.
So I say thank you for the journey. Hasta mañana.
P.S.: OK, by now, you must have guessed there's something going on in this post. Do certain phrases seem familiar? If they do, can you tell what they are and identify all of them?