Getting Used

I have changed the Gaizabonts theme. I have yet to start liking it; I hope it will grow on me, eventually. That’s how most things in this world work. We get used to them, they grow on us.

Changing Facebook privacy policies, smoking bans, death of hand-written letters, a nagging pain that we learn to ignore, bad customer service, irregular posting on a blog that you love – in all, a way of life that we never expected to be.

My One Green Sock

Some odd overcast evening, when you aren’t doing anything useful in particular, all the things that you have got used to, made a part of your lives dangle on elastic strands in front of your eyes in front of a blurry background. You wonder where and when you accumulated all of these belongings that never were meant to belong to you.

You question them.


8 thoughts on “Getting Used

  1. Was contemplating Nostalgia all of the last week, since the rain post.

    “You wonder where and when you accumulated all of these belongings that never were meant to belong to you.”

    I’ve said it before, but there’s no harm in repeating – you have a gift in giving meaning to the unsaid, the indescribable. A real food for thought line, that one.


  2. I could get used to this theme. It is pleasing to the eye.

    I once mentioned on this blog that the themes don’t matter as much. Content does. I think after all this time I have to take back my own words.

    When I changed my theme, I couldn’t identify with the novelty and I reverted back.


    • I guess that’s what getting used to is – we ascribe a part of our identity to what we get used to. So it is not so much the quality of what we get used to (that it becomes the reason we hang on to it), but, that we are often afraid of losing a part of our identity, if we let go.

      And I am not talking of your blog-theme.


      Presentation matters. At the risk of committing a Siddhu-ism, presentation is like a dish or a plate. No matter how good the food is, it cannot be served without a plate. Better the plate, better the eating experience.


  3. ‘some odd overcast evening when we do nothing useful in particular’

    this line is the epitome of being as of now. πŸ™‚ also tht para about change sounds pretty good, sad and true.


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