Tag Archives: creativity

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Writing 101

Why do we write? Or as in my case: want to write, seeing that I am quite unable to do so often. Is it to give our thoughts a tangible form? Is it because we want to present our thoughts to anyone who would care to pause and give a crap about it – even if only to shoot it down? Do we really need that publicity or are we just seeking an opinion? And how much do we really care about that opinion? I guess it’s a little bit of all of those.

There is an inherent sense of awe as the seemingly random chain of thoughts in our head link to form a cohesive structure. A piece, a prose, a design, an art. And like any other artist we would want appreciation. Yes, but something more. Ideas, comments even criticism. A discussion – to see this piece induce in others a similar chain of thoughts. Like a living entity giving birth to something in its form. It is this joy of creation – the genesis of something new and meaningful and the pride of having created it – that drives us most.

It doesn’t always come out right at first. You sit hopelessly waiting for another of those countless swirling thoughts to fuse with that still unfinished structure, to give it a shape, some vague purpose. Art is for inspiring and unless others do get a glimpse of this inspiration, your work is unfinished. There will be disappointments and ever so often your work out there fails to look as good as it does in your head. Your hopes of giving it a good, if not a great ending, will seldom bear fruit. Not all creations are beautiful. And certainly not perfect. That takes time, patience and a lot of sloppy outcomes. So don’t be too hard on yourself or spend your time out in wait of an epiphany that would be your Magnum Opus. That would come too just like others, in its own sweet time.

Bricks and mortar, laid one over other, unrecognizable at first but then it grows and it has a shape and you wonder what it may grow into. Slowly, piece by piece, the structure rises. Take a step back now and examine. Have the courage to bring it all down if you must. Start afresh. Don’t wait for that perfect ending, just hope to finish it. Add a touch here and there and hope it all makes sense the way you pictured it to be. Then let it go. Let it grow and fend for itself. And hope this piece goes on to create a thought, an idea someplace else.

Don’t stop there, don’t pause. Don’t admire the workmanship, nor fret over its unseemly appearance. That’s not your job. There’s a long way to go and countless other pieces ready to be penned down. Don’t give up until you strike gold – the elusive masterpiece, and maybe not even then. For there is no joy as great as the joy of creation. And at the end of all things they are all that’s left of you.

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The Lost Treasure

Innocence of a Child

Ah! The meandering river behold!
Twisting and writhing, it has
trickled o’er leagues manifold.

Somewhere, a child on its banks grows.
His heart joyous, clear; it rushes,
like a mountain stream sparkling cold.

Dreary grows now the path to the Sea,
Sluggish, restrained becomes its might.
Weary of life’s toils, this old heart
yearns for a child’s pristine delight.

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Never an absolution

Compared to any ordinary mortal, I have always found myself to be relatively free during such days as these – bearing threats of an approaching midsem or endsem. Unlike the afore mentioned lesser humans, scuttling around in a state of hysteria, I can be found in my room doing… ummm… nothing! This apparent disposition of calmness which people may mistakenly attribute to my superior preparations, is more of a stupor, owing to the lack of the same. It is the hopelessness of the whole predicament and the acceptance of the inevitable doom that renders me worthless.

Interestingly, this uselessness gives rise to an ardent desire within me to immerse myself into all sorts of new ventures, just as long as they aren’t even remotely linked to my acads. First, it was the Rubik’s cube that caught my fancy, and hence ensued an unsuccessful attempt of learning to solve it; next followed an addictive spell of DoTA. Unfortunately, these whims of mine, rise and ebb with the tides of time – that are the examination season. Conforming with the traditions, this time around, it is gonna be my blog and my neighbor, The Sage’s guitar (which, incidentally, has been taken on lease from a particular inmate of SB; and conveniently forgotten by both the lender and the borrower – to my delight, I may add!).

Sporadically scattered across such suspended states of my existence are moments of panic which find me with a textbook – in a feeble attempt to justify my presence in the insti. More often than not, such a delusioned state soon culminates into another one with me daydreaming or better still, dozing off – the whole nine yards! Consistent through all of this is a thought gnawing at my mind – slowly, persistently – consuming, within me, any desire to savor that moment. It is the acceptance of my need to study combined with the realization that everyone else is doing it; and my innate disability to follow suit.

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Piercing through the lulling melody of  the LOTR soundtrack, comes hurtling a string of curses and expletives of most ingenious kinds! Left in its wake, are the shattered remnants of a deathly silence that only moments ago haunted the narrow corridors. Someone just failed to make or break a new ‘Minesweeper’ record!  People stir – rudely awoken from their reverie. And a smug grin spreads across my face as I get back to finishing off this post. The world is so much more marvelous, if only you aren’t alone! The future lies safe still, with those of us who will defy all odds (and commmonsense!) and follow their hearts. Not everything is lost… yet!