600 weeks. That’s over 11 years—and not a single break. I gave myself a pat on the back—frankly, I deserved it. When I started, I never expected to last this long, certainly not with this kind of consistency. But here we are—600 uninterrupted weeks of blogging and writing, over 1080 articles. And if that wasn’t enough, I curated seven anthologies, ran a story-writing contest for five years, and authored a guide to life rules, a poetry book, and two novels. As I write this, I marvel at my Mac and the keyboard I have relentlessly punched. I think my keyboard deserves a holiday.
According to Grammarly, I’ve churned over 16 million words in the last seven years—more than 44,000 a week. Most of them ended up in articles and books. The rest probably went into furious emails, whimsical drafts, and rants that never saw the light of day. And the four books that are in various stages of completion.
It’s been a journey of stubbornness disguised as discipline. Writing, at its core, is not always about inspiration—it’s about sitting down, week after week, and hammering out thoughts, no matter how elusive they may be. Not every piece was a hit. Some were panned. Some provoked sharp responses. A few even made people think. And yes, writer’s block has visited me—sometimes with no ideas, sometimes with too many untrained wild thoughts refusing to line up in a coherent parade.
Still, I never lost the urge to write. Even when tempted to quit—not because of a lack of passion, but because life kept throwing new juggling acts my way—I stuck to the page. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing justice to all that I’ve taken on. But then, I remember what a friend once said: “The fight isn’t with the world. It’s with yourself.”
So, as long as today’s Sanjeev Kotnala is a marginally improved (and hopefully wiser) version of yesterday’s, I consider it a win. We evolve, we reprioritise, we pick things up and drop them. But the core remains. And that core lends credibility and authenticity to everything we do.
When I first started, writing was an experiment. Over time, it became a habit. Then, it became an obsession. Eventually, it turned into second nature. I learned quickly that discipline trumps fleeting inspiration. The romantic idea of waiting for a muse is lovely but mostly useless. Writers write. Rain or shine, ideas or not, mood or madness, they write.
Looking back at my older pieces, I laugh—and sometimes cringe. But I also see growth. The writing evolved. The thoughts became more structured. Today, the voice is a little bit more defined and confident. I went from shooting from the hip to (occasionally) using a tripod.
Staying relevant is the tricky bit. The world changes, readers move on, and algorithms misbehave. What worked in 2015 doesn’t always land in 2025. But adaptability, not trend-chasing, is the key. While the themes of self-reflection, authenticity, and social commentary remain, the tone, formats, and platforms have shifted with time. Relevance isn’t about becoming someone else—it’s about being yourself in a language others can still relate to.
What lies ahead? Do I keep going at the same pace? Take a creative detour? Try new formats? Maybe finally finish that half-written play or the screenplay? I don’t have the answer. But I do know that writing isn’t about reaching a destination. It’s about the joy (and occasional agony) of the journey.
I owe a lot to the people who nudged me along the way. Readers who reacted, responded, and even disagreed—they’ve helped me evolve. A heartfelt thank you to Sumit Da for the early encouragement. And to my late ex-boss, Samir Verma, who back in 1996, dared me to write a few pages after I flung Painted House by John Grisham across the room in disdain. Who knew a tantrum would lead to a writing streak?
So here’s to the stories told and the ones yet to be imagined. To the blinking cursor, the midnight drafts, the tea spills, the backspaces, and the occasional epiphany. 600 weeks down—and the keyboard craves for more.
ADDON
Here is what I felt when I completed 500 weeks of writing for MxmIndia.
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