THE WRITER WHO LIVED

What do you say to taking chances…well here I am taking a chance again…because all man can do is HOPE …

When I wrote my first letter…it was addressed to a guy..hmph! it wasn’t a love letter..well no way near it..it was more on the lines of letting my thoughts out to the world..i didn’t know how to express..i didn’t know how to be vocal about the mind that I carried every where…and that s how my frend my dear frend MAX was born…

I knew more than enough women (coz at that time that was the only kind around me) who wrote.”secretly…” but in the run..the secrets were meant to only emphasize the fact that…they could be only shared with the dearest..of friends.I never really understood the concept…but I shant crib coz..i had the pleasure of getting my hands on the juiciest and the darkest of the so called secrets. I was and have never been a cynic in life, but when it came to trusting women…hell! That’s where I drew the line forever. This distinction that I consciously made gave me a lot to think about. It was jus a choice that I took..a decision which was not really hard to make for a person like myself who was constantly lured by the other side of life. At first I couldn’t do much about it..simply cause..i wasn’t sure how’d guys of my age (mind you) read my desperation for association…but that again was the stepping stone to what I am today..No not a WOMAN hater..feminist..?? no way…but yeah… someone…who prefers to talk to herself rather than to the world when it comes to her own secrets.

I dunno where all that josh and the mantra of life went but its been over 10 years that I ve been writing and like all good things in the world despite of the fact that I enjoyed every minute of it…the earnestness with which I usually wrote, began disappearing…Sad!

I wont go back and think about why I stopped writing..coz it is one among the million good things that I did…without an effort.

When I write, I write my will, I write about my life..i never edit what I write..not the spell errors..nor the commas ..that I usually would had it been a eng lit paper..I write coz that is the only time I get to be myself…I take that chance and plunge into the depth of my unfathomable thoughts and swim at 100 miles an hour. Do reach the destination I want to reach…everytime? Perhaps ...perhaps not! Am never really sure about that because…by the time I stop to think…I’m panting so hard its difficult to delineate reality from fantasy. Its like the asana(s) all these gurus keep talking about on the tube. Its like the rush of the first smoke for a smoker. It’s like the shot of vodka…its like the whiff of your favourite curry being made… For it never really was the about what I wrote BUT the fact that I wrote..no holds barred!

Surprisingly I could never lie when I wrote. its not like if I tried I wouldn’t succeed..but I Jus chose not to do it..coz life for me is all about the pretenses that you can keep. Pretending while I write..is perhaps not part of that forte of mine.

Today I would like to be a lot of things that I am not…but I know I’d prefer writing down my thoughts on paper..much more than anything. At times i call it a BLOCK..at times I insist its jus another phase in life..at times I wonder was that jus another short lived story of my life…???

Sitting here seeing the world pass by, the evening walkers jog down the road, the laughter, the screeching of the breaks, the rubber on the road, the holler of the crowd, gunning of the bike, the twang of the nearest construction site….and the plethora of sounds that I hear every passing day I wonder…What I have become?

From a simple undulated, unadulterated writer to an ambiguous lone confused Actor?!

Right now it is like the cigarette smoke which fills the room without you noticing it, but when you butt it out, it leaves a distinct smell for you to remind you that you smoked that cigarette. Perhaps its time again to light the next one…and taking another chance at life…