Life was amazing when I was only writing blogs. All I had to do was sit on my bed or at my desk in my pajamas, simply type my thoughts on my laptop, check for any grammatical errors, reread them, and hit the publish button. That was all.
I truly and genuinely enjoyed doing that with all my heart, and maybe that’s why I was so consistent with blogging.
Cut to 2026, where blogging has taken a backseat and content creation is booming, with careers being built around making videos, I feel lost amidst the crowd.
I’ve always tried my best to keep up with new platforms like Instagram and YouTube, but to be honest, I’ve failed terribly. Not that I can’t make videos or edit them. I’ve learned everything from scratch—right from how to talk in front of the camera to actually making long-form videos and editing them.
But I could never stay consistent.
When I look back and pen down my journey, I realise I have come a long way, but at the same time, I know I am not enough. I’ve written quite a few books and created content on Instagram around reading and writing books.
But the question arises: why did I sideline writing books (I have a manuscript sitting on my laptop, waiting for me to complete it) and start making video content?
Because it was the need of the hour. People loved consuming content in the form of videos. So, I decided to go with the flow and create videos for my audience.
And honestly, I never stopped liking writing until I couldn’t manage everything in parallel. The amount of work that goes into creating a video is tremendous and sucks a lot of energy out of you.
Initially, I was only making short videos (Reels), subtly promoting my books and the importance of writing. But gradually, I took a leap (which felt like a big leap to me) and started making long-form videos on YouTube. My writing automatically took a backseat.
One mistake I made was shifting completely to videos, which actually drifted me away from my core passion—writing blogs and books. I did write blogs here once in a while, but I don’t think anybody would have bothered to read them. And why would they? If I wasn’t consistent, why would my readers be?
One of my favourite authors is so disciplined that when she’s writing a book, she doesn’t create content on Instagram or anywhere else. Once her book is ready for print, she becomes active on Instagram and heavily promotes it, which I think is the right thing to do as a writer.
While I know all of this, I still find myself getting carried away. I know something is terribly wrong—so much so that I’m afraid I don’t know how to fix it.
And every once in three months, when this thought pops up, I find myself asking one question:
WHO AM I?
Sadly, it still remains unanswered.
