….And so I unrolled the fresh and raw parchment of paper ( Beethoven playing in the background… ) and dipped my quill in a glass of ink and began….
No. Not really. I just picked the iPad up and started running my fingers over the “touch” alphabets which don’t even let you feel the press since they’re a “one-touch” system thing ( and the background music would be – my kids screaming their lungs out in sheer joy – another one of my breakable/needful things has successfully been destroyed by them !! Yayyyyyy! ha..well…) But why should that stop me?? Or make this any less of a writing ? And why should a tedious and painful procedure of distinguished finger movements holding a pen on a paper make it any more of the same?
Writing – or to be able to put your thoughts across exactly as it explodes inside your head – sometimes sugar coated with a delicious gooey chocolate smothered use of words so as to not sound offensive ( I refer to myself and myself only ! ) – and sometimes un-coated and rough, with sharp unsmoothened , non-baby proofed edges that could slap harder than a SLAP and injure more brutally than a stab of a knife ( again- this is all me ! ) – is perhaps, a brilliant gift to many of us in the form of venting out or simply being able to spread joy with the same ( or sometimes spreading just plain depression and anger – just being realistic here ! )
It is a powerful tool indeed and it has taken me about …..over a decade ( sheesh !!) to acknowledge that certain parts of this tool might ( just might !!) be within the reach of my fingertips. The drive to explode with bombs ( sometimes bazookas even! ) of words has often given me aches and urges that sometimes even I cannot comprehend ( however weird that sounded.. ! ).
It all goes back to getting a high ( yeah. You heard me) …getting extremely high on reading ( of course ! No, wait. What were you thinking?) Reading could sometimes get you on a different kind of high that you could trip on eternally….sometimes even beyond . And so, after efficiently indulging myself in this can’t – ever – quit drug, I swiftly moved onto writing poems parallel to taking a few shots of my new high every now and then (that would be back in the days – somewhere between the ages of 8 – 9 approximately).
This led to more reading and further more writing – a beautifully designed vicious, addictive , non-being-able-to-escape circle for distinct species of junkies like myself ! Never on a public platform though. Guess it wasn’t time yet ( the good ole’ excuse of procrastination ! )
To the English teachers at school, to those very beautiful souls that ignited these thoughts and lead me into a mystical world of never ending possibilities just by rearranging alphabets to form words and then rearranging the same to sometimes see , and other times strike magic – I am ever so thankful and indebted for life !
That would include my then boyfriend, now husband, for the lovely lines I flaunted all over the letters, cards and e-mails written to him for 7 years before wedlock and the 4 years that has followed, to this very day !!! – not to mention his official mails and projects ( * coughs * ).
School being done and dusted – I moved to college and took up Applied Psychology as a major which called for reading and writing 24/7 ( WOWZA !!! ) I was living the dream ( dont smirk … MY dream! ) .
Being away from home – family & friends – I registered onto Facebook and pretty much got hooked onto that. Each time I logged in, it asked me – WHATS ON YOUR MIND ? ( my favorite question, apparently.) And so, delightfully I responded most of the days. Being in University,
I’d have my hands full every once a while and was busy busting my “posterior region” ( oh how I love this language ! ) and so there would be times when I couldn’t answer to ” what’s on my mind” ‘cuz all my mind did was beep blood red signals with the most alarming background score that read – DEADLINE APPROACHING !! DEADLINE APPROACHING!!!
To my pleasant surprise , when I returned back to the social network after my dues and submissions, I’d always find heart warming inbox msgs from friends and even acquaintances – ” Hey, haven’t seen a status from you in a while…. It makes my day sometimes… Write something ” …. ” hey !!! Ur statuses bring a smile to my face…what’s up ? No updates since long !” … ” it’s new year !!!! Where is your status ?????” And many more on similar lines. I found myself being able to reach those corners of my mind and convert the same into words in a manner that I never could before.
My inhibitions, my deepest fears , my unspoken thoughts, my failures, my triumphs, my loves’ , my hates’, my happiness , my frustrations, my country, the people, the politics, the justice, the injustice, the world, the universe !!!! – Everything could be written about with not having to care about the after effects – as even that could be further written about and explained if situations called for it. I had both – the questions and the answers at my fingertips – it was liberating !!! ( like having an ice cold bottle of Limca on a hot, sweaty & exhausting day where it all goes wrong yet sealing your lips to that icy bottle just turns your entire day back around !!! https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NsxcXhBGEZk – watch it !! You’ll get the point if you haven’t already. )
Being head – over – heels and hopelessly in love, I wrote more of love at that point in time.It moved on to wedding bells and further to my overwhelming experiences of becoming a mother for the very first time.
From then on most of what I wrote always captured the quick yet bewildering process of my son’s transformation from an infant to a toddler.
Toddler”hood” had just began taking its toll when we were blessed with yet another beautiful little princess.
It goes without saying that with a 2 year old in my left arm and a new born In my right – the space that my fingertips required to liberate me, got smaller and gradually diminished leaving a million words hysterically jumping up and down my head screaming for attention and banging at the walls of my brain to be let out.
When the words found no alternative to seek my attention , they began to make their way through my mouth and in conversations and sometimes even on Internet chats. It had become so obvious and desperate rather , that conversations with new people ended like this –
” so ..do you write ? ” ..
Me : not really….
” don’t you think you should? ” or …
” ok you really need to start writing !!! ” or it’d be my husband who would plainly say ” WRITE ! ” as a solution to any situation I discussed with him –
Me : I’m fed up of what I see on the news …. I’ve had it upto here with these people !!!
Him : WRITE !!!
Me : it’s adorable how Ayaan ( our son ) realizes that he is older to Duaa ( our daughter ) and is so cautious about her.
Him : yeah… WRITE about it.
Me : hey… Have I told you how much I love you off late ?
Him : WRITE it to me.
A very wise person once said ” Writing is a socially acceptable form of Schizophrenia ” ( E.L. Doctorow I believe … Not sure though !) . I hope the schizophrenic in me is well received as I take my first step into the world of blogging.
Looking forward to be graced with more days such as this where the kids decide to take a long nap or are happily breaking things and messing the house ( research says that it promotes healthy growth ! ) while I unleash the impatient , won’t – take – no – for – an – answer characters in my head.
I BE BLOGGING.
With love , sincerity and a tad bit of insanity.