The Beginning

Everyday I thought, that today is the day when my blog would start. The day has come today. It all started when I wanted a medium by which my thoughts are saved. I didn't want them to get lost in air during many conversations which I had with enumerable people all these days. Many suggested that blogging could be solution to this little problem. I loved the idea, because writing is something that provided me inner peace and satisfaction.

In my fathers words, "Writing is a serious art in which a pen has to be sharpened like a knife to cut through the useless expressions, and make a mark that stays forever." I have not taken this blog like a very serious writing activity as he suggested, but I have willingly set it free, undisciplined and without extremities, to let it take a shape which it desires to take.

I didn't lose a minute when it came to the title of this blog. A Zigzag Way is a mesmerizing novel by the great author "Anita Desai". It tells about the journey of a young graduate, who wanders in Mexico without a definite goal, but in the end finds his roots, revisits his past and finds a path into the future. It depicts that a satisfying journey is never a straight line, but a maze of zigzag lines with great discoveries kept at every corner.

The second question I had to answer myself that how to make a start? My father always surprised me as a personality. I started writing about him an year ago when he was in his last days. These were smaller bits and pieces which I randomly wrote without any connection. Few days back, I started structuring them into meaningful write ups. I can't find a better way to start this blog, than to bring his memories back, and make a mark, portraying his character sketch, gathering memories and lurking into the past.

This blog is intended to remain zigzag. A memoir of the everyday wanderings which I undertake to uncover life around me. Some journeys are destined to remain incomplete, the pleasure is to take essence out of the time hanging between the start and the end.

Wanderings

I wander inside,

Rusty, cracking pages.

Finding unknown,

By taking a dip,

Diving deep for facts,

Learning, contemplating.

Corner to corner

Round and straight

Wherever it takes me

In search of voices

Inert, hidden inside

Hideous faces

My wanderings remain

Shapeless and mysterious

Unkempt, forgotten

Struggling with words

Dangling on phrases

With disputes unsolved

A never ending

Process in vain

Without conclusions

I halt, take a breath

Find myself on same place

To start again…

Abhijit Datey

21.11.08