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I'd write more, like you said I should. If only, there was more to me.

Saturday, October 17, 2009


My first real job was with The Times of India, yes the Old Lady... as she is still called.

Those were heady days. After cracking the written test and the interview, four eager beavers imagined word weavers, all in their early 20s, entered the paper, wanting to do the expected - change the world.

We were opinionated, argumentative and we were always up for a healthy debate (the rest of the newsroom read it as picking fights) with our then editor Tushar Bhatt.

One would have thought after what we put him through - right from questions about why a story was being spiked to why a story could not be published to why a sub-editor could not write as much as a reporter, why was a Page 1 story tucked in an inside page - he would want to forget us all.

Yes, when one is 20 one does believe one is always right.

Which is why, this note I received from him took me totally by surprise.

"I came across a piece in your blog, which mentioned my name. I thank you sincerely for remembering me. It was so many years ago but it seems like yesterday. I vividly recall the young, earnest faces keen to change the world through their words. The world keeps changing but not exactly as we all visualized when we were young. From your prolific output, I conclude that your romance with words has deepened. A few fortunates among the pen pushers can manage to achieve so much."

A reminder why a blog still has its space and why I must continue to write here, even if it is during the crevices of the day, the night, the bewitching hours.

Happy Diwali all.

As you can tell, I am all lit up anyway....

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