Last few days were painful. And the last few blogs were an outcome of that. Leaving all the people who religiously follow the blogs, and which I must admit are only a handful, distressed. Gloomier times do tell you a lot about who all care about you and how much you matter to them. As a writer, you never intend to bring someone to tears but I received messages saying that people were moved to tears after reading them. Honest writing, I am convinced, is mighty in this sense. I have always believed that writing is about establishing a connection. You either have an inkling of what the write-up is about, or it is doomed to face your fury.

The thing that started all this trouble has not ended yet. Nor has its fear. Perhaps it never will, for there is no end to the fear. There is only a start to it, and then your life, and the life of everyone who loves you start revolving around it. It likes glory. The limelight. It doesn’t see the age of the person it is about to torment. It just strikes. No wonder what doctors say but there is always a fear of it coming back. Attacking back with even more might. So we, as a family, will have to live in constant apprehension and stick to each other. Families have no other choice than sticking to each other in times as distressed like these, don’t you think?

I am so grateful for the words that offer catharsis in such situations. And, to all the people.

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