Skip to main content

Writer’s Block*

It is not because I have nothing to write that I pick my pen up so sparingly. It is because I have so much to write. Not events. My life remains as devoid of them as ever. But thoughts. And there is an unlimited amount of these for an idle mind like mine...
Its funny how right upto opening the diary and writing the few opening lines, I will have incredible ideas and remarkable remarks. But now there is nothing. Its like that incredible pulp of amassed thoughts is trying to makes its way through an orifice as big as this pen's nib has.

* from my journal, dated 2nd January 2007. The situation is not very different a year on.

Comments

  1. my dear friend, what you summarize here is what i like to call the "philosophers" paradox (I am sure there is something else in this world which is called the same) . Its like there is some much to say but you mouth (or the pen in your case) does not have enough energy to sustain such thoughts. fight it man fight it... :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Feedback

Popular posts from this blog

What NOT to do this Valentine's Day

An expert is a person who has made all the mistakes that can be made in a very narrow field. - Niels Bohr I consider myself an expert in matters of the heart. I have given loads of people advice in all kinds of different situations. It’s another matter that most of them never actually used my advice, so there is no way of knowing how effective it is. But, I have surely made all the mistakes that can be made (and some more) in this not-so-narrow field. I will not bore you with the common amateur mistakes. Here is an example of me going overboard with the ‘being different’ mantra. I bet you never thought of this way to court a girl’s attentions. A few Valentine’s days back, I sent a mail to a friend I had a crush on and wanted to impress after an evening walk with her. Hi, As we were talking the other evening, you mentioned how guys are essentially the ‘same’; in the sense that ALL of them view girls as sex objects. When I heard it, I had trouble accepting it. So, I decided ...

The Sutra to the Perfect Gift

Glenn had his birthday coming up. I called up everyone to seek ideas for an appropriate gift. In vain. "He has everything!" was one exasperated opinion. Some thought out of the box and came up with really practical gifts like skate-boards. I gave up and went straight to the mall with Arjun , hoping to spot something. At the mall, we hacked around for the 'right' gift. Although books were ruled out initially, we gravitated to the book store as a last resort. After sifting through countless books, we were still clueless. I had quite a reputation to maintain in office. After buying many 'right' gifts, I could not afford to lose the plot now. While selecting a gift, there are three things I look for: - Would s/he like it? - Would it be a talking point? - Would it cost within 800 bucks (our usual budget)? So I sat down and went back to the basics. What would Glenn like? What would all men like? Well, that wasn't a possible gift. So, what else? While I was thi...

From the mind to the heart

 Dear heart, Why do you have to be so tempestuous? At one instance, jumping with pleasure at the sight of a text, and then plunging to the depths of the dark oceanic abyss when you realize its not from who you wanted it to be. Why do you make up highly detailed IMAX 3-D like dreams based on a few sweet words uttered, a stolen glance or two or a half-smile? And then again create horror movies with sudden jump-scares at the slightest rejection, cold look or request for need of "space"? These palpitations of yours make me oscillate between extremes. I cannot focus or concentrate on anything except how you are feeling and why. I am only a mere adventurer on a raft - going where the waves of your emotions take me. On the crests, I feel like I am on top of the world. But the troughs soon follow where the world seems bottomless. The painless are the steady days - with mild sinus rhythms as the waves gently lap around me. But you come back with a riposte - who wants to live steady? W...