A pity?! Since I basically write for a living.
Initially when I began toying with the idea… of having enough (in mind?) to fill out a paper… I wasn’t quite sure as where to start…
Much before getting initiated, while still a little boy, I used to wonder, though mostly not extending my thoughts beyond what the elders preached and the books prescribed, how could someone 'write', just like that, as they (the elders) say…
‘You don’t have to put an effort and think about writing… it’ll come to you when it has to’, they’d say. They probably meant to wait for the right moment to begin… Or may be, they didn’t… but I’d never know… I never quite understood them well enough…
Quite a few kindly ones told me not to think too hard. And some others said thoughts came to us on its own…and on their (the thoughts) arrival, writing them down wouldn't take much effort… And that was what writing’s all about…
But then ...
Are there supposed to be thoughts of any kind at all in the first place (I mean… initially, I never had any to begin with)?? Then how could anyone write without having thoughts of any kind in mind? And if so, where did these so-called thoughts come from?? Did they originate on their own (from God knows where)?? And when it happened, how do you make out if these were good enough to be written down??
To be shamelessly (?!) honest, I even had some utterly stupid doubts like if they (thoughts) had any connection with the pen or pencil or whatever… writing instruments and if they depended on the quality of paper used??
Today looking back, I feel I haven’t changed much. I still am (very much) doubtful and tensed before beginning to write (Or, conceive) anything at all. Since at most times, these aren’t (unlike the kind they mentioned) unforced ones, but results of a much-screwed-up-mental-obligation. Which is why, perhaps, I have always been in awe of all of them who can write better. For that matter, do anything better than me. Anything at all...
These days, I do not wait for the thoughts to come to me. More than that, I really can’t afford to. Force writing thoughts, ideas and solutions, to meet the deadlines, have become a way of life. So much so, that mind has started to switch off completely when not faced with pressure of any form.
And as for thoughts that dare (to break the rules), I find them arriving at the most unseemly hours, quite disappointing (and irritating) me, for being not in a position to actually pen them down, at times when I am driving, or watching a movie in a dark cinema hall, or while I’m in bed, too lazy to give up the comfort, even for a second, and actually loosing (my blog entries, mostly, are the ones I managed to recover) them from memory forever.
So...why, ask me, am I into this now? Writing, that is?!
The reason is simple. Out of a compulsive realization. That forced me into believing there’s nothing else I could do better for a living. The realization of the fact that, good or bad, nothing else would get me the recognition I deserve.
And that realization remains my only strength!
