Nowadays, am finding it really tough to find inspiration to blog. Not so long ago, it used to be so easy. It used to just come to me in the morning while travelling in the bus and I would get to office and put stuff down in under fifteen minutes.
It's an effort nowadays. I need a weekend and some good music to boot, to get my creative juices flowing. I was wondering why, for quite some time now without a clue. But today, I think I have found the answer.
I think it's the fault of all you creative (blogger poets) and terribly intelligent (Jessica Lal bloggers) bloggers out there who set such high standards. I just looked at my earlier posts and my latest ones. While earlier, I would happily blog about new roads in Hyderabad, strange menus in restaurants and obscure newspaper reports, my last three posts are discussing self important issues relating to my life's unfulfilled desires, national pride and my prickly ego. And all my spontaneous blog ideas are getting filtered by my new blogalter ego, which says,
"Are you really sure you want to put that up and expose yourself for the nincompoop you are?"
I am ashamed of myself for selling out. I have half a mind to delete the last three posts.
Today I had an interesting chat with Raghu, a colleague of mine. Now Raghu is also a batchmate from B School who I remember best as the CNC (thats Commander In Chief) of our hostel in the Inter-Hostel Sports meet (also known in secret circles as the World War). Now if you feel impressed or pity for him says a lot about the kind of person you are and whether we will get along if we ever meet.
But we are digressing,
"So how was your project?" I asked.
Raghu's just back from a 3 month engagement in the US.
"Screwed up man. Whole lot of escalations and issues."
He also expressed some choice adjectives for the project lead at which my ears kind of perked up.
I fished,"So what did the project manager do wrong? Just asking out of curiosity, you know, me being new in this industry and all."
He knew I was just interested to dig up some dirty gossip but even he wanted to get some off his chest. So he ranted about how the communication was poor, processes were not in place blah blah blah.
Then he added conspiratorially,
"The guy, Andy you wont believe, used to pick his nose so regularly..."
A pause. I do it sometimes myself and tried to recollect if I had done it in the last ten minutes.
"...and then, used to put the same finger in his mouth, immediately afterwards!"
"Wow!" I said in admiration.
"And he used to do this in front of the American clients in meetings!"
He was almost jumping now. I saw the old CNC in him again for a second.
This was good. I think a weight is now lifted from my chest too.