On Making Friends // Letters to October (6)

Dear October,

When I was younger, I used to pray for a friend. I would clasp my hands and shut my eyes at night, muttering the request before bed. I’m lucky — as I know now — that I have best friends in my closest family. But I couldn’t help feeling that a piece of the puzzle was missing as I saw around me people who had become family by choice. Friends close enough to share not only moments of lung-shattering laughter, but also the quieter, darker moments. A best friend to fall asleep next to, mid-conversation, talking about everything and nothing.

The closest thing I had ever encountered to that was broken by physical distance, when I moved away from my childhood home at six years old. A few muffled phone calls and many imagined conversations later, those friendships fizzled like Diwali sparklers. They became safely ensconced in the warm, sweet haze of memory. Thoughts of those times were all I had when my new but hollow friendships came and went like the passing seasons. I wanted something more. Something for life.

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Keep Writing

When I was younger, anything more than five ‘likes’ on Facebook had me squealing in delight.

“Wow, six people liked my status about ice cream!”

*Two minutes later*

“Seven people!”



Admittedly, six people is a lot (imagine six people in a broom closet). But when some friends’ photos somehow garner more than a hundred ‘likes,’ six seems a little humbler in comparison.

At the moment, I often feel like I’m stuck in the ‘child’ phase of blogging. I’ve grown quite accustomed to not having many indications that the content I create is reaching people, so when a few ‘likes’ or comments roll about, I feel really happy. Then a blog here and then flaunts its thousands of likes and comments per post, and I get reminded, again, that six can’t quite compare.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t treasure all the support I’ve gotten already (each and every ‘like’ and comment is gushed about on this side of the screen). Neither do I believe that blogging is all about the number of followers you have, or the number of ‘likes’ you can get. Six ‘likes’ or one comment is as valuable as a hundred, because either way, I know that someone is taking some time to look at a post I’ve made.

But I have recently realised that to keep earning readers’ appreciation, I have to keep writing. I have to work hard and I have to keep putting content out there. So when I feel slightly hopeless in the future, I intend to keep this in mind, and I intend to keep writing.

Blogsistential Crisis

I’ve been in the blogging world for a while. My blog was created in 2008. I didn’t understand the process of blogging back then. I still don’t think I get it.

The age-old question is probably: what does it take to get an audience? How do I make sure my content is reaching actual people?

I don’t know. My blog is centred around reading and writing. Yet, until I started sharing photography, the number of visitors to this blog was woefully low. I admit, that may have had something to do with my irregular posting as well.

But even since I’ve been posting regularly, acknowledgement that someone out there is reading these words is hard to come by. There will be rare posts (about coffee or things to do when you’re bored) that surely reach real people. But other pieces that I’m equally proud of, and would like thoughts on, remain unnoticed.

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