Poems

It’s taken me all of my time spending time doing nothing to realise I miss writing. I miss writing. It is like taking away the life support of someone in coma. Where coma is me being in a state of limbo deciding what to do to take care of boredom, and the life support being my habit of writing.

So, I have started writing again. It gives me the power to be myself and keep my readers interested about the stories I tell. What stories do I tell? Actually, I might never know when writing can only be a door to the world of knowledge. We’ll know, but we’ll also be aware of the story happening in the moment.

Does this make sense?

I don’t care if it makes any sense. Why does everything have to mean something? My fingers dance on the keyboard and I let the music be my words. Woman, I just love writing. Writing gives me the relief I have potentially never come across in life. I put my thoughts down here for the world to wonder and myself to mull over.

What makes sense if not this?

I sometimes think I am not honest when I write to you, my readers. A bunch, actually. To think about it, my thoughts are far beyond the numbers I can count for a moment. But, the ones to read them are only a handful. I get decent amount of readers to all of my posts. We are a tiny family now with nearly two hundred followers and only a fifty reading actively.

Sometimes seventeen people make sense together.

To this, I am grateful. To you, I owe my all. I don’t know how to thank using my words to you who read me. Who try to understand me. Who take time to waste their time on my words. But, friend, words are all I have. So, please take these from my side.

Words are all it might take.

Asshrey ’21

Italy

I want to go there and live wondering about life for the rest of it. It’s not really a dream when you don’t just wish for but want it. And, I want to sink myself with the meanings to life given to our planet by mankind.

In Italy.

Why Italy? Why not stay faithful to your country right where you were born? And, why Italy? Because, I don’t know if the real sense of being an Indian is to stay here or even that of being a man of art is to be in Italy. But, I know it talks to live in harmony. Pity borders defined by the British lawyers who barely knew this country won’t stop a man from living his dreams. But, they do delay my journey as my fellow travelers have been delayed by their borders.

I don’t want to talk about what I want to do in Italy. Mostly, because I don’t know for myself. Knowing what happens in a dream is not what I sleep into. As the free world would want it, I’ll let the moment decide when my feet set on the magic-land.

It is a dream. And, why Italy?

No one can help your writing process

If anyone had a solution to this problem, they’d be telling you their own method. Be it zoning into your desk-space or walking freely in the park to get ideas. However, there are some problems which remain common enough to be dealt with as a creator.

Let me tell you that methods are not solutions. They are just the ways you choose to do your work. The last thing a creative space would want is glorifying a common method in the face of a solution. Please, as a friend I say to fellow writers struggling with their process, don’t fall for the Internet’s loud voices. Please don’t look for solutions in the way you need to deal with writing.

Trust me, after searching these methods for nearly four years I have learnt something valuable.

There is no solution that will solve everything.

Why? Because, your problems as a creator are bound to be unique to yourself. And, so should be your ways to dealing with it. I wouldn’t know if you had problems with getting up early while my solution keeps talking about the benefits of waking up at five. It just doesn’t work even if it sounds good to have a pizza ritual every paragraph written. Exception, eating somehow feeds every known tummy and the brain. So, this ritual might work and I don’t recommend doing it alone. By the way, you wouldn’t even know if I was talking about five in the morning or the evening.

Okay, let’s not get distracted by food. But, if you’d like to – nobody’s really stopping you from having your favourite dessert. Just let me know where I can find it. Deal?

Be whatever your problems are, I am sure the solutions you thought would help just haven’t been friendly enough. Sometimes, they do awesome contributions to the writing process and other times it feels like a truck ride to the moon. We just haven’t found a way to do it.

Does this mean we stick to the ride and keep believing in it? It’s not only highly hopeful to build a bridge to the moon, it is mostly impractical. Surely we could try doing it as an experiment for fun. And, that’s all writing is about to me. It’s about having fun. Why else would I even do it?

All I want to say is, don’t let the big words on your tiny screens decide your process. Find one for yourself because there is no right one out there for everyone. But, there is a right one just for you.

And, if you’re okay with it – you’d also probably be okay without it. That is the ultimate dream, I hope. Because, guess what? You are the creator of this method and there’s no way you can’t create another one. It’s unique and at the same time even a solution to defining your problems. Talk it out and let’s keep writing safe from the tragedies of productivity!

When will corona die?

Another walk on the road, and we are seven in number. Us three from home and the neighbors. It is lovely, like usual, the sky today.

“Amma, when will corona die?” asks my neighbor’s kid. Her mother dials a number on the phone which makes her even more impatient. She’s always trying to make her point on our evening-walk. When morning, she’s usually as quite as the lake we walk to. We maintain a distance of seven feet. One after another, like the train of angry ants. Yes, we call ourselves ants trying to be better humans.

To avoid being at her tantrum, I answer “A few more days. Why? You love going to school that much?”

“No! I don’t ever want to go to school. It’s better this way.”

She winks back to the point made. But, her dad couldn’t say the same about his office. ‘He cannot say this about his office’ is more precise. Without having options to choose from, he chooses to risk it all.

He works at the Government, and I barely know him. With him in the front, we barely talk. And, with me at the tail, it’s easier to have fun with this kid. Must say, it’s even comfortable back here without being fed with opinions and facts. At least we both agree that Tom was Jerry’s best friend.

We talk about the sky more than corona. More about the fun in not going to school than corona. More about our personal tricks to walk on the lake than corona. But, it’s challenging for even us to not talk about the killer walking freely on these streets.

“Tonight, it will die. I just spoke with corona! Tomorrow morning, it will have died!” her mother replies with the widest smile. She just got off the phone.


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