Explain why you chose your blog’s title and what it means to you.
I was twelve years old when my Dad passed away. It was a sad time for us. I wasn’t able to show my dad how much I loved him. Although he is no longer with us, it gives me great pleasure to choose my blog’s title,”Sabethville”, my Dad’s name was Abdus Sabeth. He was a great inspiration to us,he worked day and night to provide us a comfortable home and the best education.
He told my mother once, a child’s education is like a foundation of a building, just as any building with a good foundation would last a long time, so will a child’s education with a good foundation bring increasing benefits. He tried his best to see us thrive. With this in mind he registered us in the best schools in the city.
My blog title makes me very proud that I was able to use my Dad’s name.
It means a lot to me when I publish posts and read the comments of my blogger friends. I have a few dedicated friends who take the time to read my post and leave their awesome comments. I thank them for their positive words.
Somewhere up there my Dad is probably thinking, “I am so happy, Ranu did not neglect her education!”
Tell us about the blog post you were most nervous to publish– and what it was like to to set it free.
It was the first time I had attempted to translate a poem of Tagore. I was advised by one of my classmates in the online course to translate Tagore’s poetry.
He said it because I am a Bengali and that it should be easy for me to do the work.
Over the years I have read Tagore’s poetry and picked one’s I loved because of their rhythm and the beautiful words the poet used to describe nature. I memorized them and frequently repeated them, it gave me a kind of delight I could never explain.
When I was confronted with the task of translating Tagore’s poetry into English it gave me the jitters, I never thought in my wildest dream I was adept to try it. Rather than tell my friend I was incapable, because the hidden pride in me wouldn’t let me admit the fact.
I took out Tagore’s collection of poems, I picked one that I had recited as a child, I started translating it, it took me a long time to complete it, then the editing, reading and rereading began. I came to a point where I was tired of it.
When I was convinced I have done my best, I nervously clicked the publish button.
Then I waited to see the comment from my friend. He was very generous in his comment and I was ecstatic, I had crossed the first hurdle!
The New York Times is going to feature your blog on its home page, and you have been asked to publish a new post—it’ll be the first thing tens and thousands of readers see.Writ it.
If I allow myself to believe I am capable of writing something which New York Times is going to feature in its home page, I have to be truly stupid.
I write and publish posts to improve my writing and please myself. who cares if no one thinks my writing is worth reading. Aspiration is something worthwhile to have, but if it gives one a sense of I’m the best, then that person should tell themselves you are a wannabe writer and you will not achieve this kind of fame overnight.
I am contented with what I am doing,I will not try to blow my brains out to try something I am not capable of. This is my post I’m not interested to go “Viral” but stay on this earth as a normal human being, until it’s time for me to leave!
Since I started the daily prompt,there have been a few,I wondered about. I wasn’t sure how to tackle them,but somehow I wrote whatever I thought was appropriate.
The latest one which was uneasy for me was: Mix Tape Masterpiece, it baffled me, I couldn’t really comprehend how to begin. Right or wrong I wrote it and felt a huge pressure off my shoulders. What was unbelievable was someone actually thought,I’d done a good job,’Go figure’! I felt relieved to publish it and didn’t care about the negative comments which might come my way. Thankfully enough there weren’t any!
I am dreaming of writing a fiction.I know it is truly improbable,this fact does not deter me. Keeping this thought in my mind,I go to bed. I am in deep slumber,I feel someone shaking me, I open my eyes I see my Dad looking at me and smiling.I rub my eyes and can only say”What”? ‘My Dad says write your story about me’. I say, ‘what can I write about you’? He says, ‘Everything you remember up to age twelve’, confused I say,’but why age 12,Dad’? He said,’when you were twelve I was no longer with you’. I knew it really is not possible to write a story. I start writing it and magically I complete it with my Dad standing behind smiling. He said,’Ranu you will publish this story’,reluctantly I agreed. Then I felt someone telling me in my ears,’Ranu your story is published’. I opened my eyes immediately,there was no one there.How can it be I said,’it seemed so real’. I related my dream to Evie,my friend,she was elated. she said, ‘even if it happens to be a dream we should celebrate’. ‘Celebrate what’? I said,’there is no reason’,but there is’,she said, ‘your dream will come true,we will practice how to celebrate when it comes true in real life’.
We decorated our living room with all kinds of streamers,ordered a cake from the local bakery,baked some delicious treats.We invited friends and neighbors but were careful not to tell them why we were celebrating.We had a grand time. At the end of the party,Evie burst into a roaring laughter,she said,” I’m sorry I am thinking what are you going to do,if you really write and publish a book”, the friends and neighbors were embarrassed and left without saying anything!