Face-off

Around 18 months back, on a boring weekday afternoon, I came across a fun blog – a blog written under a pseudo name. After reading some three-four posts, I decided it was a perky read on boring days and bookmarked it. (Yes, I still live in Stone Age and book mark my favorite pages!)

Anecdotes about drunk parties, embarrassed meetings with ex-boyfriends, confessions about addiction to booze and smokes, some bitchiness, some sweetness – I was hooked to the blog after a week or so. The author was an avid blogger, never letting me down with infrequent updates, a good writer, and very honest in her description of feelings. The fact that she lived in Delhi just did me more good because I personally knew the places she would talk about. She never took names of other people, used pseudo names for them too. Slowly I realized that her writing was more than just bold and candid, it was also wild. Yes, for a person from my social background, discussing a personal sexual experience (names or no names) or a blowjob is wild. Nonetheless, being only human, I continued to read her.
 
She got a lot of anonymous comments (no surprises here!), some rude and derogatory, but most complementary and the number of comments just kept growing with every passing post. Most chicks seemed to like her. I think that is because she talked about stuff that they could/did not. Interestingly, most men seemed jealous. Intriguing! The girl moved to Mumbai after a while and the writing got even wilder. No, I am not insinuating anything here, just describing a pattern I observed on the blog.
 
This Monday, I found a new post on the blog announcing that the author who had made so many efforts of remaining anonymous until now could be seen on that night’s “We The People” on NDTV. Curiosity got better of me and I streamed the video to catch a glimpse of this wild-wild woman.

The topic of discussion on the show was “Should Blogs be Regulated,” and to my horror, Barkha Dutt introduced the author in question by quoting the following from one of her recent posts:

More and more of my male friends tell me, “You know, sex isn’t that important.” And I’m wondering when they reached that conclusion, for me, sex isn’t that important unless I have to go without it, in which case I turn into a mixture of Cruella De Ville and Bambi, alternating between long drags of my cigarette and fluttering eyelashes at whatever’s closest.
 
Now, first thing first, this is a wonderful piece of writing, is it not? Second, would one like this to be read out on National television when your folks are glued to the screens going “my little baby is on the television!” to the neighbors?

The girl in question looked like any of us, a normal happy chick, not a wild Goth or a link-whore as the Interweb likes to call her. This quote was followed by a direct question from Dutt, “So, you have quit smoking! Does that mean you are getting a lot of sex these days?”

You cannot blame Dutt. But can you blame the author?

Barkha Dutt was talking about something which was already there in a public forum for everyone’s consumption. But this girl had been writing everything under the comfortable protection of a pseudo name until now. Yes, it was her decision to change that and come in front of millions of viewers and hundreds of her readers, but still!

My point is that from the looks of it, the girl did not feel comfortable when all this happened. Although, she regained her composure in a jiffy, but there was a definite odd moment.

Having found out her real name, I could not help but google her this morning and the results shocked me. Tons of people are out there on the Interweb bashing her. People even claim that she is not original as her writing is too much of “Sex and the City” in it! They think she should be writing about erotic experiences over a vadapao instead of cheesecake, you get the drift? This, ladies and gentlemen, amuses me. And if you have been patient enough to stay with me till now, I should finally come to the point.

We all write with the knowledge that anyone can read our posts but do we want absolutely everyone to read them? If a curious boy of 22 in New Zealand reads my personal post, I do not care. But if my best friend’s mother reads it, will I be comfortable? Will you be comfortable? I do not know.

I have kept my journal fairly non-personal but I am sure there are lapses. Nonetheless, the fact remains that none of my family members (barring the husband) reads my journal and I like it that way. Why? I am not sure, yet.

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