What’s The Character..
What’s The Character..
It was 5 pm. As I kept the pen down on the table, I felt relaxed as I had completed the first chapter of my book.
I got the urge to have a hot cup of coffee. With the coffee urge, I got up from the balcony of my forest view room. I was staying closer to the nature just to get disturbed by the insects and the birds to increase my creative flow.
Being away from the normal mundane life has its own other complexities. A nearby coffee shop was around 2 km from my place. Undeterred by this, I started on my walk. On the way I was greeted by the children of the security guard. Beaming with a smile and great peace of mind I continued the walk down the hill.
The way down was very steep and my nostrils gasped for breath. With the wetness of the green cover, I could sense myself in this wonderful creation of God. I walked, but my senses were around the character Subbu. I had written a short introduction of the character describing his frame of build. The second chapter must start with a character description of Subbu and how he sees the world.
Most of my characters exude positivity. They always see life from a perspective of how can they contribute. They aren't problem solvers but nor do they run from problems. They try their best in their struggles of life.
As the sketchiness of my Subbu drew over my mind, I reached the small tea stall. I knew this tea stall owner as I am a regular to this place thrice in a year. Whenever I need to write I come to this beautiful serene hill station. With the regularity, tea stall owner Mahesh also became one of my friends.
After the regular interchanges, Mahesh asked me the status of my writing. I raised my finger and said one. With my sign language being a usual one, he understood.
I sipped the hot coffee and was trying to look at the tea stall. A sheet of metal as the roof and brick wall adorned the tea shop. In the hindsight was the beautiful hill. The chillness of the place made many walkers have a sip of hot beverage either tea or coffee at this shop and thus Mahesh business was made.
I should write about this shop in one of my stories and use it as the centre of my writing I thought. With my thoughts coming back to Subbu, I wanted to sit and immerse myself in the thoughts with coffee in the hand.
Subbu.. the average person whom every one would have come across in their life has won a competition. By winning that he has got an amount of one lakh. With this money, how his life changed and how he actually sees every one is the crux of the story.
With some twists and turns, he also meets his life partner, gets entangled in situations where he shouldn't . This is the way I had a rough idea of the story.
But some where I felt I am missing some reality. Usually I write with a flow which just comes to me. But this time it wasn't the case.
It has been a week and I had written only one chapter. My dust bin was full of crushed papers as none of my thoughts were close enough to what I felt.
I struggled with these thoughts and I was also afraid of not completing the book. Writing is easy I would always say. It just has to connect with the writer. If a writer gets connected with the flow, any writing will come just like that.
But this time it wasn't the same. What happened to me? Has my creativity exhausted? Questions raised my anger and my anger made me restless. I ordered Mahesh another coffee.
Murugan came with the coffee and he had some biscuits too. Mahesh smiled and signaled me to take biscuits. " I had baked these sir. Only today I got the ingredients. Taste it and tell me sir" Mahesh shouted from the shop. I smiled and took a bite. " Mahesh.. it's very good. But a little bit salty. "
"Muruga, come here. Get me two more biscuits". I said. "How are your studies going Muruga?" I asked. Muruga, the son of Mahesh studies in the school down the hill, in the valley. I am sponsoring his education from his fifth standard as Mahesh doesn't have a good income. I still remember when Muruga started telling some English stories taught in their school with his innocent smile and mistakes.
Seeing his interest and thinking of his future, I told Mahesh that I will get his education covered when he said he was planning to a top Muruga from going to school.
"I am studying well sir. This week I got first prize in the English story section ", state's Muruga as he ran inside to his house. With the paper in his one hand and he trophy in his other, he looked like an Olympian brimming with a smile. He showed me the story. It was very well written. With my expertise, I read it in less than 5 minutes. I understood the story base line and who had inspired for this story. Muruga is a smart kid I thought.
"Mahesh, your son has written this story very well. He has written about your life in this hill station." I said to Mahesh. I went close to his tea stall and gave him the fee for this year.
Usually, I just give the fee for the entire year. As Mahesh took and the money and went inside the house, I saw there was a discussion between the two. Mahesh was shouting. Some usual family fight I thought and just went little far with the story in hand.
Muruga came out running. As I stopped him, he was crying as tears rolled. I checked with Mahesh. " sir there is a coaching class for story writing it seems. As he won the first prize, there is a workshop organised at their school. The teachers want him to attend that workshop. It's being set in some hill station near the Himalayas. They want us to pay some rs. 5000 for the trip. With my situation, how can I spend so much and send him sir." Mahesh said in full breath. "Which workshop?" I asked. "I don't know sir. Muruga.. come here sir is asking which workshop. Tell him. Sir, this time you don't give the money, I will somehow try to see if I can arrange some money. His mother also said she has some chain. We will keep it for the mortgage and give him. " Mahesh said now with a changed mindset.
Muruga came with a white cover. That must be the brochure I thought. As he was coming, Mahesh started.. " Sir you are also a writer. You tell me, sir. Why do people need to go to such a far off place for writing? Why can't they stay wherever they are and write? My mother used to tell, a child will study if it has a will. The environment doesn't matter. I don't know why he needs to go so far to get creativity learnt"
I just smiled as it hit me hard in my mind. Why always a writer has to travel, has to be alone, has to be in a nature reckoning backdrop?
Why it had to be this way? Can't I write in my house? What we need is an isolated mind. That's all. It actually shouldn't matter.
A great learning indeed. When Muruga opened his envelope I was taken aback. It was reading "Workshop with Karthikeyan.. a simple writer of our times., " .
My pen name was Karthikeyan. It was my workshop. I had announced it at a discounted price for the winners of a national level school competitions from various zones.
Now Subbu flashed my mind all of a sudden. He was an average minded person with simple living. When he obtained the one lakh prize amount, he neither felt very happy nor wanted to spend all the money himself. His brought up was from a normal background. Being simple was not the way of life but his life itself. He calculated a portion for his desires, his parents, spouse wishes and one portion he kept for educating a child who doesn't have an opportunity to learn.
Subbu will always be Subbu even if he gets a lakh prize or he is getting 5000 as his salary. Only the portion he allocated differ. This is my Subbu. My character.. thinking that I called up my workshop organiser and said " Ramesh, please cancel the enrolment fee for all school students. Also please inform all schools that I will come to their place for the workshop. "
"Mahesh, I am leaving today. Take this amount as well. " I gave 5000 to him..
I started walking back upwards....#NEWYOU