Now it would be posh for a writer to have it, but why inflict that curse on me? I am just your average bored person scribbling nonsense, reading and re-reading it and feeling smug about those literary accomplishments. Not so long ago, I had gotten into the habit of writing at least one page of ‘something’ everyday, every single day, it seems amazing now, how I could manage to do that. Writing a page a day, people, is not easy. It takes dedication and discipline, I don’t think even Shakespeare would have found it easy to write a page a day, regularly and with consistent quality. And talking of dedication and discipline and yours truly… hrrummpph… ah well, let’s move on to the real world.
In the last two years, I haven’t written anything. Well, save for the occasional jottings. I miss writing. And I am losing it. The thought that I am deliberately and stupidly letting go of that skill brings forth an eerie sense of making the same mistake twice. I have let go of too many things just around the time I began to grasp the essence of it, or shall we say, grasp the essence of how one goes about grasping the essence of it, if that makes any sense.
I am older now. My point of view has changed. I have grown, I have become more accepting, forgiving and emotionless. I have become more tolerant and jaded. Trivialities do not excite me any more, even human beings have ceased to be exciting. Now that’s growing too old too fast, but what the heck.
My life will change again, of that I am sure. May not be for the better and I am not really prepared for that. I hope I will have the courage and that I would have acquired enough survival skills to fight it out all by myself, when it is called for. And till that time, I suppose I shall carry on with my old pastime, walk with this friend, pick up where we left off. And we shall fight this WB monster together.
In the last two years, I haven’t written anything. Well, save for the occasional jottings. I miss writing. And I am losing it. The thought that I am deliberately and stupidly letting go of that skill brings forth an eerie sense of making the same mistake twice. I have let go of too many things just around the time I began to grasp the essence of it, or shall we say, grasp the essence of how one goes about grasping the essence of it, if that makes any sense.
I am older now. My point of view has changed. I have grown, I have become more accepting, forgiving and emotionless. I have become more tolerant and jaded. Trivialities do not excite me any more, even human beings have ceased to be exciting. Now that’s growing too old too fast, but what the heck.
My life will change again, of that I am sure. May not be for the better and I am not really prepared for that. I hope I will have the courage and that I would have acquired enough survival skills to fight it out all by myself, when it is called for. And till that time, I suppose I shall carry on with my old pastime, walk with this friend, pick up where we left off. And we shall fight this WB monster together.
1 comment:
Pehle aati thi haal-e-dil pe hansi
Ab kisi baat pe nahi aati
--Ghalib
Nice way to define writer's block. No ?
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