I wrote yesterday that today’s post might not be easy, because I wrote yesterday what I should be writing today. I don’t know how easy this post is going to be, however, I find that this day is throwing up emotions with amazing contradictions. They aren’t easy to resolve. At once I feel relieved that the challenge is concluded, at the same time, there is sadness that it is. There is no compulsion to write now, and I wonder if I will reward myself too much by taking a long break.
The chair that we build of our laurels is deceptively comfortable.
As I go through the posts of the month, it is a roller coaster of a ride. I did thoroughly enjoy this challenge I set for myself. Of course I went through some of my earlier posts too, but I do not want to talk about them, lest I start writing something that seems like a farewell speech, delivered, reclining on a chair of the past.
I feel I am in a stateless state. I don’t feel the compulsion to write about something. I don’t feel the compulsion to write anything at all. At this time, this post seems like a formality. It just needs to exist. There’s soothing Hindi film music from the 60’s playing in the background. Before I started writing this post, I removed all the clutter from my desk. I completed all tasks and marked them as done. My mind, surprisingly, is equally free of any tinsel. Space, emptiness, and clarity are dancing a graceful ballet. The acquired compulsion has crumpled to dust, blown away. This post has become a mere ritual that has gained importance, sheerly by virtue of the position in which it will exist: the bookend on the right end of the shelf. The finishing touch of the aesthetic.
In the last decade, such a moment was never experienced: I’ve experienced immense pride after a post that I thought was well-written. Or the gleeful delight after a humorous post; the laid-back satisfaction of experiencing a meaningful blur after an abstract. But, this? No, this is a new feeling. It feels like the dead-centre of all the extreme emotions that we experience when we click “Publish.”
For the many experiences that aren’t ours as yet, and with determined irreverence to the milestones, publish, we must.
I thank you all for encouraging me to complete this challenge. I’ll let you in on a secret. I took up two more challenges the same day, I started this one. I haven’t done justice to the other two. Perhaps, I shall tend to them now. I shall hold your encouragement close to my heart, as I face them.