Every time I see my barren blog, my heart cries. It has been four months that I wrote nothing in my blog. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t writing anything. I was writing some other things and studying my textbooks. To make my excuse more genuine, there was no internet facility in our hostel.
During these four months, I learnt many things about writing and writers.
I came to know writing isn’t a cup of tea. It requires immense inspiration to make the right choice of words. I forced myself to come up with a blog post and landed up writing some rubbish. I also knew I can write bags of rubbish but I can’t write precise, exact and economical sentences.
I developed this fear – writers lived cursed lives. May be I read too many biographies of writers. Some died trying to complete their last masterpiece; some wrote what we call masterpieces in great agony, physical pain and poverty. Some died thinking they can never convince the world as their books were banned for obscenity and some of their books were rejected by the publishers. Many years after their death, their books became international bestseller and critically acclaimed literary piece. Does that mean their generation never understood what writers wrote?
To be a good writer, you need to experience many things. I am scared what if I lose my identity in the process of experiencing versatile things. Heart-broken – shattered. Drink and drive – fall off the bike. Drink and play – fall. Enjoy – what it means to cry? Shout on top of your voice – get arrested by security guards. Does kaleidoscope of experiences make a good writer?
Am I going insane?
Because I wake up at midnight, put on the light and jot down new ideas that strike my head. Sometimes, I laugh out loud, thinking about the hilarious character I created. Sometimes, my heart beat so loud and fast, when I create rowdy character. Sometimes, I smile and lip sings the romantic song that my character sings. It runs so clear and vivid in my mind that I fall in love with the heroine I created in my novel. The craziest thing is I feel like she is waiting somewhere for me. Sometimes, she comes in my dream, smile and wave bye.
I don’t know when I would write next as I have examination in September. Folks, wish me loads of good luck. Till then, keep visiting my blog.