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Warning: I’m Irritated!
(Dedicated to the friend who once tried to teach me the real pronunciation of the word ‘routine’. I thought of him when I titled this post. The moment he pronounced it, I knew he was wrong because he was just assimilating himself to the band of people who have been pronouncing it wrong since the origin of the word. A week ago, I happened to figure out that he had been blindly copying the way his master prnounces English words. What are dictionaries (online and hardbound, both) for? Have they become non-existant? Academics will never achieve greater levels in this country as long as individuals like this dwell in the depths of divine knowledge. They simply become another generation of ‘scholars’ who picks the nose of those who sits next to them!)
Writing is very difficult. I do not mean writing for non-serious posts to be blogged. I mean the kind of writing that you need to do for a living. In my case, it is proving to be even tougher. Especially when the rest of the world behaves like a party-crasher all the time. There are things that you cannot say no to and there are times when you are too bewildered to say anything at all. It is just like sitting in a gallery and urging a player to play; they’ll just cheer you but do nothing to help you because there’s simply nothing that they can do. If at all they stopped cheering, we could just have scored that goal or simply make the scoreboards to move!
In my case, I still haven’t figured out all the interruptions I face a day. There are a lot of things that I can’t escape from and there are a lot of things that I can put a stop to. I wake up early, around 6.00 AM. I get ready in half an hour (That’s all I need!) and present myself at my table to do the writing/reading part. Even if it is something stupid, I push myself to write for around an hour. After that I prepare myself for breakfast and an elaborate newspaper reading with coffee. I was also planning to include a walk in the morning with some music plugged-in but the mornings are becoming a little too cold for me to venture out and grab some fresh positive air in. Also, my knee-issues have been making it difficult as well. Around 10 – 12 is when I do the background reading – checking my facts – trashing out shit – clearing my brain – pasting post-its all over the fuckin’ wall…. And all the other crazy stuff that I gotta do to keep me hooked to the mainframe of what I write. 12.20 PM, I venture out to have lunch and I make sure to be back in the room by 1.00 PM. Then, I generally pick up a book and try and catch some sleep for an hour and a half or two.
I wake up around 3.00 PM and make myself a tea which triggers off the alarm in my head and make me put myself back to work. I do the same crazy reading… walking around in the room or just simply staring at the wall at all the creepy stuff that I have posted earlier, trying to make a connection or trying to remember why I put them there. I do this till it is 6.00 PM or something and then resort to some online reading – blogs, news, YouTube, Facebook, Gmail, or anything of that sort….
7.15, I head to dinner. Then, the walk after the dinner (which, I like to believe, is helping me to shed some weight!) to have coffee/tea and some hearty laughs with best friends on matters relating to various subjects or nothing particular at all. I try and bring myself back to my abode by 9.00 pm… a little chat with my Mom (or whoever picks up the call!) and then I fall to the rest of the reading materials. Most of the days, I open a bottle to ease my pressure off a bit and drink a couple or more shots of something but I make sure it never crosses a line. I guess, that came from reading a lot of Khushwant Singh but what to say, he has influenced me quite a bit.
The problem I face is that, a slight change in this tight schedule interrupts my whole thinking. Sometimes, I do impulsive stuff like going for a music-walk just to get my thoughts clear and all but that is very rare. There are time when I feel like a Liam Neeson character; do something soon-the clock’s ticking-your identity is gone-you don’t know who you are-figure out where the bomb is-your wife’s taken…. Blah blah blah!
I guess that’s something I gotta deal with….
- Are Mommy Bloggers Real Writers? (blogher.com)
- Nanowrimo Survival Guide (Or, How to Get That @!$@ing Writing Project Done) (fantasycollective.wordpress.com)
- A sorry mess… (thoseblastedcells.wordpress.com)
- The Four Horsemen of Productivity (lifeartiste.wordpress.com)
- Harrumph! I have NEVER! (summermerosh.wordpress.com)
- Crazy Color Lavender & Candy Floss Hair Dye Review (betsybgood.wordpress.com)
- Bhin’riil d’ Ever’horreur (sumiilikesfashion.wordpress.com)
- Return of the Jedi (acquiescentadolescence.wordpress.com)
- Etude House Fresh Cherry Tint (blushfantasy.wordpress.com)
Leaving the Old cities
the dust and the shades
and the noises,
I travel alone
to the red blot
where I have a place
to sit and relax…
If I ever will
want to live again.
I think not.
Words Unfurling You.
Meanings hiding temptation.
I hunt the Unknown.
This here, my friends, is my 300th post. When I let my mind’s seismograph to take control over this space here, I never thought I would reach this far. I have tried all sorts of things here; poems, short stories, political rants, funny experiences, photographs, reviews, travelogues, mental illnesses… Here I am, writing this after taking a short nap, woken up by a sudden midnight rock music from another window… I am left with two options; either I can knock on that person’s door and hit his solar plexus (or break his collar bone!) or I can force my mind to ignore the ugly music and concentrate on this. I choose the latter!
Being here has also given me so many good friends. Every one of them equally brilliant in posting amazing stuff. I have seen opinions forming, equal minds coming together, sharing happiness, pain and sometimes holding each other up so that we all feel better. It is a great family here. There are brothers, sisters, friends, mothers, father figures etc. We write from different corners of the world; Indians, Chinese, Africans, Americans, British, Australians… Some of us should actually be enemies, given the fact that our governments are either invading each other or almost at the throats of each other! That is what makes a government a government! They make policies, they change policies, they attack, they defend, they buy ships, they make planes, they elect someone, they kill someone but our lives remain unchanged! Our lives go on… and we remain friends!
Anyway, let’s not venture out too far from my point. We’re all here and we like it. I’m happy I reached this far and I’m happy I met all of you, read things written by all of you and I was appreciated by all of you. Therefore, I think I should continue posting stuff here even though I thought I’d take a break after my 300th post.
Thanks for the support, people. You guys make me feel special. I love you all…
Here comes another winter
bringing you along
Love, making me a painter,
of yours, lifelong.
I have not forgotten the old
paths were we met
the vibrant city, cold
and the morning leaves, wet.
The same winter, you kissed
me, your hands touching
my neck, your mind obsessed
with my mind, churning.
I remember the days, rainy.
When the clouds made
us stay inside, the symphony
of your heartbeat, a cascade.
Here comes another Winter
and I wait for you, impatient
looking at the sunlight, fainter
in the horizon, I, sentient.