To my mentor -- In Your Footsteps I Follow

My family members agree that I must've inherited the writing bug from my maternal uncle. When I was a little girl, I used to watch my Unnimama [which is what I called my uncle] pen line after after line of beautiful Malayalam calligraphy in a yellow leather-bound diary every evening. On weekends and holidays, he would write almost all day. He used to hide this diary of his in a big long jhola bag -- a desi journalist-wannabe's jute satchel. I often wondered about the contents of that yellow journal. Time and again, when he was out smoking in the garden or taking a bath, I would sneak a peek inside the mildewed pages of the hallowed yellow tome. Sadly though, I never did quite figure out the intricacies of the Malayalam script, and the mysteries of his creation always remained beyond my grasp. They still do...
I do recall him mailing some of his finished pieces to various Malayalam weeklies and periodicals. Sometimes, a faceless editor would deign it proper to publish one of Unnimama's submissions and there would be a nice fat check in the mail. At other times, the fat white manuscripts came back in thin brown envelopes. An inky rejection slip would be taped to the front page.
Times have changed. Now, I have taken on Unnimama's mantle. However, no editor has ever had the pleasure of reviewing my jottings. Not surprising then that no one has "rejected" my writings either. Of course, my writings have never brought me any material gain either. The current state of affairs notwithstanding, I do have a moderate fan following comprised of close friends and family members who do read and applaud my often meaningless drivel. I do have the internet to thank for this.
Hail gods of the blog world! I bow to thee :)