I have to write something, I don't
exactly know what. I have been trying for so long to pen some
thoughts down, ranging from a few lines of a poem, to a short story
to hold your breath starting a new novel to a trip down memory lane
or just a good ole' he-she blog. But all I am drawing is a blank. I
just can't seem to find anything to write about. If it were the good
ole' days, I am sure I'd have a litter of papers all crumpled up
around me. Instead I find myself staring at the OpenOffice Writer which has seen many a lines written and backspaced
or closed without saving and all I am left with is an empty window!
Maybe I should have just let them be.
Even if they were a couple of lines, not even complete sentences
maybe I should have pressed the save button. Who knows what I could
have done with them? Instead I have yet another empty window with no
idea of what I had begun to write a few days ago before giving up. I
am not sure where this dilly-dallying is coming from. Usually, once I
begin to write, I continue with ease. I don't need to stop and think
where the next sentence is going to come from. My hands keep on
typing the signals I get from my brain and before I know it, there is
a blog worthy content for me to work with. Usually with the smallest
changes, I finish it off. While it might not quite be the masterpiece
I might have been aiming for, it is good enough for me to feel good
about myself for a few days as far as writing is concerned.
I had hoped that the vacation in India
would give me the much needed time to write more prolifically and
meaningfully. Alas! It was not to be. It is nearing the end of my
2-month vacation and I have yet to write even one piece, leave alone
working on a masterpiece. Every time I sit down to write, either the
ideas shy away or there is someone or something calling out to me and
I hastily hit the x and a No to the confirm window. My thoughts lost
forever, my ideas just evaporating into the air and all I am left
with is you guessed it – an empty window.
I wonder if this is an ingrained facet
of my personality? To give up when I think that things are not going
as I had hoped them to be. To give up pretty easily without
persisting or not putting enough effort into achieving what I want to
for myself. To blame a host of things around for the same while very
well knowing that if I put my heart into it, I could do something
about it. Taking the easier way out. I do seem to be setting goals,
its just the meeting the goals part that seems to be sorely lacking
in effort and execution.
I love what writing does to me. The
whole process where the words I conjure up come together to express
what I want to say or have imagined. The flow of the paragraphs as
one idea gives way to another in a rhythm-isque dance that reaches a
crescendo as I near the climax of the piece. Sometimes even
surprising myself with how I veer towards the end. The process of
going over it a couple of times, trying to determine if everything
went according to how I wanted it to, many a time shaking my head in
disbelief that I could be so insipid but sometimes feeling a wave of
satisfaction that I did write beautifully. With a silly grin pasted
across my face I take a final bow before putting it before the world,
reading, re-reading and re-reading yet again. Enjoying the whole
process like nothing else.Yet, I don't seem to find 'time' to do the
activity that is - forgive my shameless use of the expression – the
wind beneath my wings.
Hey look! No more 'Empty Window'. Hope
it is a start of more saved documents instead of empty windows. Amen
to that, for my sake.
