Dots, more dots and yet more dots. These dots are everywhere, they are all-pervasive, littering all realms of our spaces. They are picked up by n kinds of people, connected in n more number of combinations to form yet n more number of patterns. They have been joined in unreachable skies to form constellations, they have been joined in janam-kundlis to predict the predict the futures of our lives, they have been joined in graphs to analyze and chart our progresses, and for that matter, they have been joined in dark rooms to bring our faces out on the face of this planet. As the Big Bang theory puts it, the entire universe expanded from what once happened to be a tiny dot.

In Mahabharata, Arjuna shot arrow bang on the eye of the fish and thus connected two dots only to connect, in turn, with the third dot called Draupadi which in turn got connected with four more dots.

Likewise, we all connect our dots in order to connect with one ultimate dot. Making friends with the best friend of our crush, getting expensive presents for an infamously strict teacher a week before the exam,  making our humble Splendor bikes look like Harley Davidson, or raising funds for the necklace of newly-made girlfriend, we connect one dot with the other to ultimately reach the ultimate dot.

Our life-span is a connection of various time dots in our timelines. We all have had and will continue to have our share of bad and good experiences. We cherish our heart with fond memories and embitter our souls with the bad ones. However, not many of us connect those dots take our lessons and become wiser by gaining the wisdom of hindsight. Instead, we keep going back at those dark dots, bad-mouthing people who played villainous roles then, even cussing at our fortunes while we unintentionally connect them with our today and deprive it of its brightness by casting the dark shadows of those dark dots.

We have our historical precedents of people who have connected their dots the way their brains, hearts and souls guided them to form their own masterpieces for the world to admire, emulate and follow-in their footsteps.

Thomas Elva Edison could connect the bright dots of his mind to transmit that brightness into the lives of all and sundry. Primitive man connected the dots and invented the wheel and modern man connected it to invent sedans. Who could think that the steam emitting out of a hot kettle could have the power to run giant steam engines, except for the man who could connect the dots, James Watt. Only the man who connected his dots could dare to embark upon a voyage for the discovery of India only to accidentally discover an unknown set of Carribean Islands, Christopher Columbus. Shoot for your dots, even if you miss, you’ll land among the dots, for moon and stars are also dots. A young girl from a small town from Haryana called Karnal, would always keep her hair tied and never unfurl them to look modern and glamorous. When asked about it, she would say that she wanted to become an astronaut and that she one needs to keep one’s long hair tied while in space. The girl whom we know by the name of Kalpana Chawla lived her dream and died while still living her dream, only to become immortals for the world.

All of us are unique, all of us are special and all of us in ourselves are wondrous masterpieces of almighty. Why do we seek joy in losing our USPs by discarding the voice of our hearts, imitating the master-pieces of others by treading already explored paths? Let us all make our existences count by adding our bits to this world. Let us connect our dots in through own unique elegances to create our own masterpieces.

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What kept clogging me from blogging?

Well, I was always known for my destructively creative skills in my school days. I was known as a guy who’s good for nothing except for writing a bit, ya, but only a bit. I have been trying to cultivate a knack of finding sense in what is ostensibly nonsense and nonsense in what is ostensibly sense. I always longed for a place wherein I could inflict torture on people in the form of my writings and I’ve come to believe that there can’t be a better third-degree torture cell for the purpose than my-own weblog. Well, nonsense aside, I will make sure that going through my writings in this blog would be nothing different from a sheer treat to the readers. But, the head-question still remains unanswered : What kept clogging me from blogging during all these years? But do you really care about it anyway? …………And ya, it’s neva’ too late !!

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