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Holy cow! I don't know the first thing about blogging, but everyone seems to be doing it. Save Hrithik Roshan, according the Hindu's latest reports. Is it just about typing down your thoughts at random? If that's just it, I can go on and fill up GBs of scribbles. But there was the Hindu again! It said in last week's Opportunities that potential employers can look up your blogs to check what you have to say for yourself, and that can make or break your career, so be careful what you type! That's formidable!

And after you do write, what happens? Do people read it? Only if it expresses definite views on some subject, I suppose. And the presentation itself has to grip the readers. Heck, it has to be interesting to write, in the first place. So here lies my first epistle, well into the second paragraph, and not a coherent thread of argument, no cogent impression to be derived. So what now?

I say come back to it later. Will this be saved? Can I come back to it? Let me do that background work and learn how this site works, first of all. Come to think of it, all these populous countries with vast numbers of voluble humanity hacking away at their keyboards, filling up cyberspace, while the lunatic machines think and think on in ropes of 1s and 0s. I am sure I am an absolute nightmare to computer geeks and other gifted beings who can think clearly without their own thoughts crowding and overwhelming their industrious minds.

Now what do I do? Look into the post options? Explore the settings? Better have this text on Ctrl+C anyhow. So much for wasted trouble, as if I were preserving the teachings of the virtuous, who didn't need blogs to propound their theories anyway. Dash it! You might have noticed that I've been trying to let you off, but can't seem to stop spinning. No wonder self-love is destructive, it can cause carpal-tunnel syndrome, also known as writer's cramp. Its that funny pain in your wrists and knuckles after you've been chatting/blogging for some hours. I guess that's why blogging has become such a rage. So there, finally a full stop. A big big one, from a big big girl.

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