To be written but not read

कर्मणये वाधिकारस्ते मां फलेषु कदाचन । मां कर्मफलहेतुर्भू: मांते संङगोस्त्वकर्मणि ।।

Your right is to work only,
But never to its fruits;
Let not the fruits of action be thy motive,
Nor let thy attachment be to inaction.

I always thought that writing would bring me solace. But now that I started doing it, I realized that I wanted more to be read than to write. I’m waiting (im)patiently for that one reader to stumble upon my blog and comment on my thoughts. (Yes, comment coz until and unless s/he comments, how will I know that someone has actually read it). But then my desire to be read and acknowledged stirs a feeling of guilt in me. Should it be more like,

Your right is to write

Not to wish to be read

Let not the desire to be read, be your inspiration

Nor should you stop writing altogether

I wish to write on an on until a little thirst of my insatiable self is quenched. But again, what is the purpose of writing without being read. Had the above ‘gyan’ never been read, it would have saved me from the guilt feeling.

I keep wondering how the blogger turned authors have endured their own phase of “waiting to be read”. Its semblance to “waiting for Godot” is eerie. And the way madness is attributed to writers makes me feel I’m tagged under “soon-to-be-mad” category. This thought however is bizarrely refreshing.

Even before I was a writer or to say in my days of wannabe writer, I faced the so called writers block. It took a meltdown to clear that block. Now I cannot afford anything to block me again from writing, be it my desire to be read. However, the fear of being unread forever is daunting.