World Of Words

The saying, “A writer is working, when he’s staring out of the window”, holds true for me, and I am sure for most writers too! Many a times, I have been caught staring into the space by my exasperated family. I am known to be lost in my own world, and they know better than to needle me then.

To be a writer, one needs to read a lot and write a lot; and also, to observe a lot, if I may add. I think a writer’s secret weapon is to sit back, observe and absorb the everyday happenings unfolding before him. You never know when the creative lightning will strike and a story emerge.

Writing for me happened luck by chance. Forced to put family first, I had to reluctantly wave a corporate career goodbye. Slaving over a hot stove had never been my forte. As long as the family was heartily fed with nutritious meals and the kids inching taller every year, I considered it a job well done.

Mall crawling and window shopping was fun during college days no doubt, but now shopping was just a means to an end. Afterall, how many clothes does one need if one is home most of the time? Ladies who ‘lunch’ was not my cup of tea either. Don’t get me wrong, I have a tremendous respect for anyone who has the energy and the will to dress up, spend money at a fancy restaurant and while away the time in meaningless gossip and return home feeling fulfilled; but then as they say, whatever floats your boat!

The family dispatched off in the mornings, lunch and sundry work done, the day stared at me accusingly thereafter! The TV watching was never my forte — I am talking of the days before OTT platform shook the very foundation of in-house entertainment business— the ‘K’ serials bored the life out of me! I could never understand and still don’t how a bunch of over-dressed, heavily made-up females loaded with ‘jewellery’ could hold the nation enthralled with their bizarre machinations and absurd stories! And anyway, our TV came to life only in the evenings when the “Lord-of-the-house’ was home, tired and hungry after a long day at work. It’s different story that after a quick refreshing bath, dinner done, the dissipated energy miraculously used to make a come-back and the remaining wakeful hours were spent on watching cricket and news, in that order.

Dusting listlessly around the house one day, the innocuous looking writing table in the corner of the study beckoned me as if daring me to open my long-ignored lap-top, and saying as if, ‘let’s see whether you still have it in you or have you forgotten to even type?’ Taking up the challenge I threw the mop on away and peered into the exasperating thing. Sitting myself, I tentatively typed out a few sentences. Before I knew it, as if by magic, my fingers flew on the keyboard and all my thoughts, pent up emotions and frustrations came tumbling out. It was cathartic to pour out my feelings and unburden myself on paper (so to speak). To my surprise, the day flew and I felt as light headed as a drunk on a binge night out. And just like that, I was hooked.

Every day, mundane chores done, I would find myself gravitating towards my writing desk. The blessed quiet of the mornings, the thrill of having the whole house to myself, acted as a spur to my writing and words tumbled out in their hurry to be penned down.

All families have this certain breed of ‘Know All’s’ in their fold, who think it’s their birth right to dole out unwanted advice and pass judgments, as if they are to the manor born. Ours was no exception. Staring in the space, I have spent many a pleasant day formulating ideas and contriving rewarding family scenes. Imagining my rebuffs to pesky relatives, and standing up to them on paper, which I can’t do in real life, gave me unadulterated pleasure. My happiness knew no bounds when I discovered that my pen could just swipe that smug expressions off their faces, with a few sharp rejoinders; albeit for my eyes only.

 A writer, as an actor, lives many roles in his lifetime. Like a kaleidoscope, with every turn a different story emerges, through words and imagination. The joy of seeing the written word, makes all the drafts, the rewrites and the endless editing worthwhile and rewarding. It’s truly said, ‘that there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you’. The story has to come out; there is no peace till it spills out of you. I have been at the receiving end of my family’s non-plussed looks many a time, especially when the creative bug bit me at odd hours, even at nights.

Slowly but surely, I was drawn in the magical world of writing. Writing opened up a world for me to explore, to be myself in a world created by me, for me and of me. I started sending my short stories to many publications. Being successful in the corporate world, doesn’t necessarily mean success in other fields also. I discovered that painful truth when rejections came in swift and fast. A writer’s journey is incomplete without many rejection letters carefully tucked away from prying eyes. The trick is to keep writing, to keep polishing the craft, as the germ of a story is always there bubbling in the mind, waiting to be put on paper. The persistence does pay off and the day is not far when finally, your story is accepted by a publisher. The thrill of seeing your name in print is something to be experienced to believe it. It vindicates your belief in yourself and you join the hallowed ranks of a published author.

Remember, ‘the first draft is just you telling yourself the story’. Persevere and endure; keep writing. That as I see it, is the key to become a good writer, and to leave your footprints in the sands of time.