A word essay about the letter S wouldn’t even be close to complete if I didn’t mention the word that starts with S and refers to activities that the censor board thinks is rather un-Indian.
My censorship is not inspired by misguided ideas on what constitutes culture as khaki enthusiasts see it, rather it’s because… Well, no patriarch, guileful aunt, or heckling grandmother can be expected to stay technologically illiterate these days, can they? My fears are not misguided, just last week Facebook’s’ terrifying ability to learn everything about you became all to apparent when an old, grey haired progenitor seemed to appear on the people you may know category. If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m counting on a shaky hold over the English language to cover my tracks.
To virgin eyes that fail to understand or care about the endless carnival of light humor that populates the internet, stalking is all too easy a hobby to take up. Now, while I have been informed my tendency to write poetry on eyes movements, dreams, and other topics that catch the interest of my over obsessive mind may not be very easy to understand, I don’t want to take any risks. But I won’t bother taking anything down either. Flight might be the better option but there isn’t any reason to hide. There isn’t much here that would interest the un-literary kind I’d warrant.
So this series where I journal every reaction certain letters evoke marches on, without one very simple word that would be too obvious a clue for snoopy kin.