Mob the Blog

Some decades ago when the word ‘blogging’ was neither introduced nor domestically in-use as a common trend as it is today, I somehow thought it was a household fad for me to carry on … but in a form of a Diary (what our generation called it).

Noting down all occurrences (big or small) would mean, “I have enough references should the time come that I would require tracking down the significant events of my yesteryears.” When I left home after graduating from college, scribbling – recording – authoring my own daily scripts became more compelling to me. How I planned and ran my independence then was confided in consistent record-keeping.

In my recent homecoming, I unboxed my ancient stuff, sat on the floor, and began flipping through the pieces of my autobiography. As I age, I seldom play melodramatic-role (I’m no longer that type), however looking back and seeing myself in writing was indeed ‘tear-jerking’. Imagine exchanging mails with significant others who are no longer around today. Imagine drawing love and adulation from the ones who wouldn’t do the same again … coz’ either you have outgrown your friendship due to distance or maturity has already sealed your emotions, but still many are keeping the bridge passable.

It’s a heavy heart realizing how time flies in full tilt. I ceased using a pen for my diaries and letters, which I unswervingly did for more than 2 decades, when social media took over while paralyzing our old school interest and affinity to candor and fervor.

While reposing the same old stuff back to safety, I grasped and contemplated … that although I was not affluent growing-up, I still feel one because my younger years tell me countless rich stories.