The death of blogging? Or well, most things...

Overheard a twitter conversation where a few twitterati discussed the slow but sure death of blogging. I hate to agree but I see it happening too. They said that it was the 'random musings' sort of blogs that were losing patronage, not the niche ones. Hmm, how long or how often would random strangers want to read the rambles of an unknown person somewhere in this whole wide world.

 Don't judge me on the eavesdropping though :) Twitter is that kind of a medium and when I say celebs these are people who have a large fan-following and are sort of opinion-makers, curators etc. They were of the opinion that blogs where you can take something from, learn something from would always exist. Non-sequiturs though, such conclusions.

I disagree on the bit about random musings. It depends. Sometimes, you just connect with people who are brave (or foolish perhaps) to share bits of their lives to an unknown, random audience. It is a catharsis at times. Other times, it is random POVs that one just randomly reads. Just like the lady I met at the park the other day, I remember not completing that post. But she told me so much about what she wants and intends in life and I appreciate such candour. Sometimes speaking to strangers helps, there are no judgments offered, no expectations, it is the best way to vent at times, without thinking of the morning after, so to speak.

My thoughts are all random. and my jottings here. Like an insect or ignorant person, it is a day at a time I look out for. The much awaited Gauri Ganpathi habba did not happen. We had shopped for the 'langas', and bought the matching lace from the narrow, crowded bylanes of Gurrupanpalya. All in the midst of Ajji not being well, and reluctantly agreeing to be hospitalised. Actually, Ajji being unwell has been a recurring feature since last May, yes, the time since we've been here.

This time, somehow, it was clear that she was not going to return. That it was final. All of us  had a few days of hope against hope and time to process this but this is not a case of being forewarned is forearmed. I have a catch in my throat when I go down to 'Ajji Mane' (Ajji's house) and see her favourite chair unoccupied, her walker which she so reluctantly took to abandoned. Or the pang of not seeing her at the dining table talking to the cook about menu for the day or chanting her prayers in the evening, only after which lights would be put on. Or the sight of her in the ICU, breathing still but lost to the world at large. Or her waiting for the children to go down and generally run around the place.

Ajji, the grand matriarch, of the family with a great will to live. Yet, God had other plans. She lived a full life, one could say. Her elder brother said she was a fine lady who did so much for everybody. Her sister in law said, "She was a jolly lady". She was a teddy bear of a lady who loved a good laugh. Ajji could not pull on long enough to see her grandson from US coming down to be with her in December.

There are mixed emotions. In her primary caretaker, her oldest daughter, I sense relief. A freedom of sorts. The role of a caretaker is indeed tough. The selflessness which one needs in seeing to the needs of an ageing parent like they took care of us is not reciprocal. Some amount of  irreverence in the family when they would refer to her as "the body" while she was still in the ICU. The younger one, the favourite daughter, does not show emotions easily. Grief is after all personal and private.

Death has protocols too. There is a lot to do and no time enough to mull. Perhaps it is a good way to come to terms with it. There was talk about relatives staying on for too long and no one offering to provide food. Ajji's daughters visiting a parlour, the grandsons watching the football league on TV, great grand daughter going on for her dance class...  Inspite of this, life is moving on, in a trajectory forcing us to keep with it, and it is in our hearts and memories that the legacy of Ajji will live on for ever.