Should I comment or should I reciprocate?


Are you a blogger? Then, you may have asked yourself this question a few times:

Which do you prefer?

A) Responses to your comments on another’s blog

B) Reciprocation from the blogger via a visit/ comments on your own posts


I asked this question on my Facebook page about a week ago and although only a few people answered it, what was interesting was the response that I received.

poll results



As a rule, I try and reply to comments left on my blog, but there are days when it just becomes too overwhelming and I satisfy myself with saying a general ‘Thank You’ in response.

If you notice, 75 % of respondents in the poll preferred it when the blogger returned the courtesy of their visit. That just makes sense, obviously.

What it essentially tells me is that many of us think alike. We are very happy to read another’s blog and leave meaningful comments on their posts. Trust me, this goes beyond the perfunctory comments that people generally leave on posts, such as ‘Nice post’, ‘Brilliant!’ or (my personal favourite) ‘Awesome!’ ūüėČ

I must confess, though, that I have left similar comments myself, especially when I was rushed for time and blog hopping my way across a grid that contained over 40 entries! But, by and large, I try and leave a comment that says something which the writer will appreciate.

Then, I am faced with a bigger challenge. What if I do not understand what the writer has written?! Yes, that happens. A lot! Sometimes, I stare at a post, every which way and cannot for the life of me figure out what it means. It was either too abstract in expression or was on a subject that I could not relate to at all. So, I do the worst thing possible. I quietly slink away, without leaving a comment. I know that I should be punished severely for that, since it violates basic blogging etiquette. But, honestly, what do I say if I did not understand the post at all in the first place?

Here’s the thing about me: I am honest to a fault. In the past, as a teacher, I have been known to be brutally frank with my students when it came to critiquing their work. For the most part, it went down well, however, I am sure I’ve earned a few choice curses in my day. Most people cannot take criticism, if it was served to them on a silver platter with bells on, for good measure. It took me a long while to get used to it myself.

So, as a rule of thumb now, I do the following, if I find an error/ something wrong in a post:

I message the blogger privately, on Twitter or Facebook, and let them know of it, constructively. So far, it hasn’t backfired.

Oh, and I welcome you to do the same for my posts. Find something you don’t like, feel free to let me know. I just ask that you do it nicely ūüėČ

For the posts I do not comprehend, the battle  rages on. Yes, I am still beating the retreat.


What about you?

Do you prefer responses to your comments or visits from the bloggers in return?

{That poll is still open for votes, by the way, so hop over and tell me what you feel here.}


Linking this to Day 2- Answer a Question over at Write Tribe

We are Rediscovering our Blogging Groove this week!

Head there to read more Questions and Answers¬†ūüôā

5 Things to check before you Publish a Blog Post

We write. We publish. We wait for comments. Sounds familiar? It should.

Ah, but if there’s one thing I have learnt in the last few years of blogging, it’s that there are some cardinal rules to follow before your keyboard-happy finger taps that ‘Publish’ button. So, here are ¬†(at least) 5 things you must check before you let the world read your post.

5 Things to check Continue reading “5 Things to check before you Publish a Blog Post”

The Greatest loss- Part 2

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

– Maya Angelou

{This is Part 2 of my 3-part Serial story- The Greatest Loss. Read Part 1 here}

‘I don’t know who you are anymore,’ he said, looking at her helplessly. You need to take it easy, darling. This is not doing you any good.

And who will manage the bills? You, I suppose? she spat back, anger in her face and dark circles of irritability around her eyes. Don’t you know we need two incomes to survive? How are we ever going to pay off the mortgage on this house, if I don’t work?

I never said that. All I suggest is that you ask your boss to cut you some slack. I am sure there are others who can help share the responsibility. 

Ah, so you’re the expert now? On who can do my job well? Sylvia replied, sarcasm searing a hole in the air between them.

Shaking his head, Mark turned away, sending up a silent prayer and shrugging into his overcoat, before leaving for work. At the door, he turned and looked fondly at her, trying to see the woman that he had married, less than six months ago. He sought that sparkling smile, the black curl escaping from behind her ear or that impish dimple that lit up her face. Yet, all he could see was a careworn figure, seething and fuming, hair dishevelled, smoke rising out of her ears.

Another day wasted in arguing, she muttered to herself, watching the clock’s hands move. Darn it all! She was late for work! Hurriedly, she grabbed half a glass of orange juice and eyed the toast on the table. Her eyes switched to the clock on the counter and the toast was forgotten. Half running, half stumbling, her feet carried her out the door and into the icy winter.

winter road

Once at work, she stood in the foyer, shaking the snow off her lapels. Suddenly, her eyes glazed over in confusion. Where was she? Her eyes darted about and lit upon a middle-aged woman walking down the corridor towards her. Hello, Sylvia. Bit nippy out there, eh?

Swallowing hard, she managed a smile and replied, ‘Oh yes, it is.’ Before the conversation could go further, she scurried into the warm office, lined with cubicles. Linda looked up from her desk and waved Sylvia over. Hiya! How was last night?

Last night? Sylvia asked in confusion.

Yeah, weren’t you and Mark planning to go out for your six-month anniversary?

Oh, that, she laughed nervously, twisting her handbag’s strap. It was lovely. We , er..cut a cake. Chocolate frosting, my favourite. Sylvia was shocked that she was making this up as she went along. Last night was a total blur. Why couldn’t she remember what had happened?

Sigh, I hope I find my Mr.Right soon, gushed Linda, eyes staring into the distance.

Leaving Linda to her daydream, Sylvia walked mechanically to her booth and sat down. Her head hurt, all of a sudden and she didn’t know why. She had just experienced a mental blackout and she wasn’t aware why. After sitting and staring at the blank laptop screen for 30 minutes, she punched a button on the intercom and asked to speak to her supervisor. When he answered, she said that she would like the day off, if he could spare her. He acknowledged with a ‘Sure’ and cut the call brusquely.

Picking up her hat and gloves, she walked out into the chilly winds outside and looked up and down the street. Tears stung her eyes as she realised that things were getting worse. She had kept it to herself all these days, but this was the seventh time she’d experienced the blackout.

Before she knew it, her steps had carried her to the bridge overlooking the icy-cold river near her home. The crushing weight of despair sat on her shoulders as she watched her individuality disappear. A whispered voice told her that there was an easy way out. All it took was one step forward. The sheet of ice on the surface wasn’t fully formed. She wouldn’t even feel it hit her face if she dove straight down.

Perhaps then this pain would stop and with it, the anxiety, the uncertainty and the constant stress.

Putting one foot on the railing before her, she climbed up and stood looking over the bridge at the tempting chasm of death below.

{To be concluded…}

©Shailaja V

Read the Concluding Part here.