A Mind Of Their Own...
A person with a new idea is a crank until the idea succeeds.
Mark Twain
My last post ‘Stagnancy’ turned out to be quite literal. Or rather succeeded in contradicting me for a long time. It’s been so long while I wrote anything at all, and it is very irritating. The feeling of my words having a mind of their own, it makes me very prematurely feel like a mom whose kids are not-so-very-obedient to say the least. I was discussing with a lot of people individually how writing is something that just happens in my case. I seem to be completely at a loss when I want to write or am asked to write. While, it is days like these, like today, when Microsoft word 2007 opens of its own volition and I start penning down, rather typing out more torture for you. I kind of like the fact that my essay/post eventually chooses a name for itself rather than inheriting the name’s purpose.
Of course, it does worry me that in future if I have to write essays, articles as a requirement it might turn out to be worse than what they are now. My English teacher in school used to tell me, “Priyanka, you have to learn not to write the way you speak. You have to learn to write keeping the reader in mind.” She meant well I know. I love her. But I have a few reasons to contradict her, even though the contradiction is entirely unintentional and uncontrollable. First, writing is something personal to me, even a school essay, these are my words, I cannot be diplomatic or not be me. Second, how can I be presumptuous enough to claim I know what my reader wants? When I speak, when I write, when I draw even when I think I can’t help being me, I don’t want to be anything but me. Of course, I am not being an idealist here; I am not claiming that I have always been so honest. But I do claim that I try to filter and colour my views as much as possible, we do live as a society but I cannot give up my individuality. I have views and I respect them.
I don’t know yet what I am trying to write, probably I am just typing the conversation going on inside my head between me and me, in the middle of a terrible head-ache though. I have been waiting for something to affect me so much so as to make me write something, it hasn’t happened yet, but maybe this writer’s block is what I had to write about. Probably the fact that be it music, painting, writing anything which we create is something which is larger than us. Maybe, just maybe, it is the creation which makes us make it possible. A random thought, but it is something which inspires awe and humility in me. Our work defines us and not vice versa. Now, I still don’t know when I might be able to write again, but I just hope, that my words keep wanting to be heard. I just hope that my dreams keep wanting to be achieved, and I forever remain an instrument to make them a reality.
