If you consider the process of writing, it may feel pointless, lethargic, and indescribably excruciating. A story never starts with the idea of convincing anyone; not even the writer. The genesis of a plot, be it poetry, fiction, and non-fiction, can surprisingly spring from a forgotten moment.
Time slows down, no doubt; there is an overwhelming moment when so many ideas rush towards the seemingly idle moment. Unfortunately, this is probably a paradoxical moment when idleness feels overwhelming. An unseen power compels you to lean towards the blank pages. This is not some supernatural occurrence, but a reality which enters a conflict zone; the obsolete ideas create this inspiringly discordant environment.
You are in your home, but feels you have stepped out without the consent of the body, towards an unperceived reality. You step-out; suddenly, stripped of all the inhibitions, you dare to meet them far away from your notion of truth. It is like being stuck with a heavy window around your neck; prodding you to look further, beyond this comfortable existence.
It is like connecting yourself with this chaos, unfamiliarity, and troublesome seeking, intending to press on a new journey. You find yourself alone- no family and friends; it feels as if you have been forgotten by the world that hides somewhere in a shrunken corner of your consciousness.
One who seldom steps out of the house to curiously listen to sundry stories, it is an intense feeling to roam around new faces. Initially, their lips seem synchronised (feels as if they are narrating the same story), but as you go deeper into this reality, you learn to read their lips, after which the voices become distinct. You wish you were not alone here, as all the voices crowd, testing your resilience, integrity and purpose.
Covered with an unfamiliar identity (even you surprise yourself), the occasional mirrors reflect the subconscious desires. Is this what you were seeking all along? Your resolve is now possessed by some otherworldly force. There is no fear of rejection, humiliation, and sense of defeat in this constant struggle to absorb all the stories. The world becomes feebler and your mind stronger!
A pliable environment frees you from its selfish shackles, and you breathe real freedom for the first time. Corresponding with a parallel reality is not only liberating but also gives you the power to explore more feelings. Even if you are judged by an askew reality, it still does not force you to align with it. The burden of being anchored with heavy prejudices turn bitter.
Those who are dismayed reading your narrations and busy dangling worthless criticisms around your creations carry the dead albatross. No! Those metaphors are here to mentor the wayward and unlighted minds. Never bother about the extraneous botherations, as writing will take its own course.
~Amitav
It makes you wonder which reality is more real, doesn’t it’?
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Thats the persistent reality; let us weave the stories.
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Let’s…
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Writing really is a strange process, isn’t it? The earlier part of last year, I thought I’d never write again, but things have picked up in a big way for me recently. It took acknowledging how much I needed to outlet for this to be the case, though.
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It is… it takes us where we’ve never been, and its quite a journey. Keep writing and exploring.
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