15 years ago I wrote blogs.
Silly, funny, and even embarrassing if I read them today.
I made mistakes, and my texts were imperfect.
The flow was broken and it was amateur.
But it was original.
I wrote it.
And I shared it with my friends.
They liked it too.
No, I did not share it on social networking websites.
But I sent them the link.
They liked it.
They did not click or tap the like button. No.
They read and shared what they thought;
In the evening, over a cup of tea,
or while walking back to the hostel with me.
It was genuine.
It encouraged me.
It pushed me.
And I liked it.
Now I don’t write.
If I do, I check it thoroughly.
I ask ChatGPT to improve it.
To make it more casual, formal, or humorous.
I craft a prompt, because I learned prompt engineering.
Only then, I post it on social networking sites.
My friends like my post.
They don’t tell me.
But I know, because I see the notifications.
I know they must have spent 10 minutes reading.
I know they didn’t just tap or click the like button.
I know they didn’t just scroll and move to the next one.
I guess, I know.
I can get 600 likes now.
I guess, 600 people read it.
Or maybe 600 people spent less than a second to read it.
But they like it. Because they think I want them to like it.

15 years ago I wrote blogs.
And each of my friends spent about 600 seconds reading them.
Another 600 seconds talking about them over a cup of tea.
Or while walking back to the hostel with me.