Second chances are the the stuff of movies. They rarely happen to people in real life, and that too, to some very special people. Every inspirational story out there is a story that follows the success-failure-greater success pattern. If someone has been continually lucky since birth then they are, to be honest, quite boring people. They say you learn from failure but, what you really learn from is achieving success. All the more interesting if it is a second success, a second coming, a comeback.
To be fair though, I am not going to deal with a first-success here, to talk about the second-success that followed. But, I will talk about a second chance. Not getting one, but having the agency to give one. I am going to talk about one of my favourite subjects to write about here, this blog. A little back story for you. In July, 2013, I had decided to attempt yet another blog, this time on WordPress. I had tried different ones before but, they never really took off. I did a movie blog which did relatively well, but the opinionated, longish posts may have been a drawback from doing it better. I decided to try it yet again but this time keep it impersonal. Thus, Of Opinions was born. I had published a few semi-humorous traditional essays of this type before, and while that would be a weekly occurrence, the majority of posts would have been about actual things that one has opinions about, such as movies and music. Though it hasn’t turned out that way lately, I did try to stick to the plan on the initial stage. Of course, I was getting to know how WordPress works as well. So, I started following The Daily Post. I even attempted a Daily Post challenge. I wrote a post called Of Course. And one on Woody Allen movies. And then, I gave up.
Sorry, I had promised a brief back story. But the brevity of my back story is my back story. This is all that happened. I hardly got any surmisable feedback. And so, I gave up on Of Opinions. But, it did not give up on me. For months, I got daily mail from The Daily Post which I sometimes read but mostly “marked as read”. It was like WordPress worked subconsciously as an everyday reminder of a failed attempt at something. None of my previous failed blogs had worked that way. WordPress didn’t exactly say it wants me back(we all know how irritating those websites are that keep saying “we miss you.” No, you don’t. You are a website.). We didn’t have much of a relationship to begin with. It was a spectral one that lasted around a week and a half. But, mails from The Daily nag, sorry, Post, even the act of having to cognise and “mark as read” meant that it stayed with me.
And then it happened. I gave it a second chance. Me. I actually allowed myself to take this decision. To write and publish without agenda. Or an agenda of a different kind, as discussed in this post of a second coming, which I called Off Course, in continuation of my debut post, Of Course. And, I made myself a promise. I am getting older(I had turned 26 a few days ago), it is time for me to get over myself and stop asking life to give me favours. It is time for me to do, without the expectation of getting anything. Even abstractions like accomplishment or satisfaction or relief or even a lifting of mood. I certainly did not think of this post as a means of a second chance. But, I reconciled myself to the disappointment of months past to just focus on writing, even if the writing isn’t focused.
2 months later, I have 77 followers, a few more likes than that and 160 views. Now, yes, it does feel like a chance. A chance I though I gave WordPress but what in fact, has been given to me. A chance that allows me to think I have something to offer often enough. Given the predictable pattern my life follows, this success had never been anticipated. No amount of talent in imagination, creativity, hope or optimism could have caused such a notion. The only card I played for reaching out was consistency. I would not let a few dud posts(like yesterday’s) here and there get me down from reaching the ultimate goal, not one of blogging statistics but of reaching out through writing. I don’t write merely to write. I write to reach out. And yet, I also imbibe(well, I have imbibed for two months) the comfortable contradiction of reaching out without expecting anyone there.
There is no space or time for me to have third, fourth or fifth chances. I have got a second, and I intend to keep it for an unspecified but distant length of time.