When no one misses you

The last week and a half kept me so engaged that I couldn’t even find time for writing. Rather, the outstation duty enervated me so much that I couldn’t even care to switch on the laptop. When I got time today, being Sunday, I turned to my laptop. Quickheal antivirus was very prompt to warn me that my software had gone outdated. Just a week is enough for things to become outdated in our world where everyone is in a hurry.

Will I become obsolete or redundant if I stop writing? The question hit me with a pang. The hit counter of my blog showed readers coming though I was not writing anything for a week. However, no one except a good friend from Delhi bothered to ask why I was not writing. That friend was kind enough to text me that she “returned from the [blog] page slightly disappointed…”

Curiously, I got an unexpectedly large number of friend requests on Facebook during the week so much so I remarked in an FB update that “When I stopped writing I started getting a lot of friends.” I have no way of knowing whether the two – my not writing and the offer of friendship – are correlated. Most probably it’s just a coincidence.

However, one of my FB friends suggested that I should stop writing so that I will get more friends from all “categories”. My response was: “More doesn’t always mean better!” There’s no question of my stopping writing. Asking me to stop writing is as good as telling me to stop breathing. I’m glad that the hit counter of my blog kept ticking even when I didn’t write. It shows that there are people who take me seriously. Thank you, folks.

A former student of mine raised the question whether it is “really worth it” in response to my Facebook update. Maggie told me a couple of days back how she was confronted by a group of my present students, on her way back home from school, to enquire when I would be back in the classroom. “They said they miss you awfully,” Maggie teased me. I grinned. It’s nice to know that you are missed. I have no intention of becoming an ascetic with stoic detachment or indifference to people’s attention.

I missed the classroom even more than blogging. Retirement is going to be a problem, I think. There are some people whom I don’t want to miss.

Just one more day. After that I’ll be back to normal life. That awareness is a cool relief.

For the past 10 days my car was parked just near this tree at the place of my temporary assignment. I couldn't but notice the scars carried by the tree. I felt love for the tree. "I'm like you," I told the tree yesterday. "The only difference is I don't flaunt the scars like you."