To write what is in my mind is difficult but to write what is in my heart is nearly impossible! When it’s my mind I am expressing, my mind itself tells me what to say and what not to…what will make sense and what will “sound bad”. But hearts usually don’t believe in censorship.
Ever since I realized that words are radioactive and so must be handled with care, I decided to shelve it all together. Why bother to toy with radioactive substances when I can safely stay in the no danger zone?
Well, just like if you start running from everything you find that you have no place to run, the same happened to me. It was as if I was running away from a mirror thinking I am actually running away from me. Obviously each time I stumbled onto a reflecting surface, I found that I was there, just as I had left me, only looking a little cross because I had abandoned me.
I tried to stop many times, but it was more of just slowing down the than really stopping. You can never really be too harsh on yourself unless of course you are on some masochistic spree! But then something happened.
I was on my usual routine run, when I felt a sudden jerk. Thankfully in my world of figurative running, inertia of motion doesn’t exist or else I would have surely stumbled onto the ground. I turned to my side to see what had caused the sudden stop. I saw a hand firmly held mine.
While I was running away from me, someone very quietly had decided to run along with me. Only difference was, he wasn’t really running away from anything. He was running so that he could catch up with me. At this juncture he had realized that we were running in the same speed and in complete sync with each other. So he stopped, held my hand firmly and made me to stop.
He looked intently into my eyes though two layers of spectacles and said, ‘write.’
It was a thousand words packed in one. Words are truly radioactive!
So here I am, finally not running away but sitting down and penning down…sorry …typing my thoughts. I am not going to think whether the whole piece is meaningless or not, whether or not it makes any contribution to the world of literature, whether this is just a showcase displaying my stupidity and idiocracy decoratively. I am just going write, with or without reason, with or without plot and even when I know my style is the most cliché one in the world. Maybe I have nothing new to say, but I will say it nevertheless because it will be ME saying it…and that itself is something new…at least for me and people who care deeply about me.
I have often heard myself think, some pieces are best never written because they are so ‘bad.’ But I don’t feel that way anymore. If I write badly I need to keep writing badly so that writings get tired of being written badly and decide to have a mind of its own! Believe me they do have a mind of its own. When I abandon it, it pouts and sulk like nobody’s business. It throws wild tantrums if I go near it. I almost hear it say, ‘either you stay with me through thick and thin or else I don’t want to have anything to do with you!’
So I have decided to reconcile. I am going to hold its hand just the way he held mine. And the rest will just fall in place just the way it always does!