Deciding to take the Major Step towards Writing

For many, writing will almost seem as something which is entirely impossible. With each day rushing such unsteadily and the winds parting such defiantly, there is nothing more one could ask of life, but to be marveled by words. And this I believe, is the greatest defeat of our lives, being unable to express our thoughts inside those thick, colored sheets edged with infinite glamour.

Well, how can we eventually decide on going on with that piece, that fascinating idea, the mesmerizing plot that has been ringing inside you mind for so long, and for so long, procrastination seems to have been glued to the same spectrum as well? For many, the starting point seems to be the indefinite ending, however, to avoid such internal infatuations from pleasuring us, we need to be ever ready to accept the fact that life is such short, and in this life and the next and the one after that, if anything shall be immortal-it would incontestably be words that have been able to escape the tyranny of one’s mind.

The mind is and always be the complex thing, making us incapable of rationalizing at times, unable to being at the center of everything and playing such untimely games with us each time it seems. The great writer Ernest Hemingway, and his story of survival from life and death and eventually being able to baffle the arena with all that a mind was capable of doing. Have we ever wondered how one could just do it out of the blue and after a starry, dense and red night?

The concept of free-thinking, allowing ones imaginations to travel to infinity and beyond the rays. Let’s say, now at this moment that you are reading this post, and reading such plainly, trying to overwhelm your mind with all that is- or what is. A hundred new stars may have been formed or the next Einstein may have been born or Jupiter may have started getting closer to earth. In the world of certainty, everything and nothing is true, and all that is-a mind which forms such tender ideas.

There is a pen and a paper lying inside your bedroom, and your mind, awestruck with such deceiving, three days pleasures’-how could it ever define this short span of life?

My journey to writing, I would say, begun with thoughts. And these thoughts seemed to be beyond my control, one that always tried to protect me, now is tearing me apart. Somehow, as the days continued to progress, with toxicity reaching its peak and each minor trying to intoxicate me with their furnishing idea-“Gas lighting’-the Psychological term, and I, there is nothing I could do but to conform and not to conform at the same time.

So there is a diary in front of me, one that always has been, but blind was I, unable to extract the splendor off the spine, I would now think that I was a fool for not doing so. And as the sheets turn grey, the eyes spark judgment and the thin rays are speaking meticulously behind ones back, what could one ever do besides weeping out a thousand gallons of tear?

Thoughts, and not a single word left to narrate this life-sounds tragic after all, and I, if I were ever to feel myself again, let me write today and tomorrow and see if there is any beauty inside the sheets which have never left. So starting with a little piece, trying to formulate it into a plot and getting on with the next chapter, it did seem quite dazzling and petrifying at the same time, allowing me to explore the dynamics of my own mind. And what could even be a better way to explore one’s own mind if not for writing?

So words are beginning to form, but I realized that I have, it seems, only written a sentence all this while which looks like a literary failure. But let’s pause, and think for a second-a line that is to change everything about art and writing. “To be or not to be, that is the question,”-Shakespeare’s most famous line in Literature. One would begin to wonder if he ever though that such a little sentence would be of no good, and would have been compelled to remove the texts from the play. What would be the fate of literature, if it weren’t for the words that survived such lethargic and defining moments?

So you already have a piece of paper in front of you, and that pencil-I know it holds so many memories-one that took your loved ones away or your lover to the next lover. As you hold the pencil is such tiny seclude, there are words which want to pour out of your mind, as if Mars was at the next step but one was such blind to even take the next big step. A world of possibilities are beginning to form-as if nothing all this while, could have ever been true and the only truth is in the next unwritten line, which patiently waits for us, ticking each second like it is meant to be.

There is a line inside the sheet-“A red piece of cotton-John wears to the forests each day”. And inside this simple line, if one were to instantaneously get discouraged-try formulating the bigger picture into a sketch book, one that you will use to make your short notes for a very long time. So what is it that is so special about the red piece of cotton-how could we even define it? And John, why have you introduced such a mysterious character, and that-in the first sentence of your road towards writing. So who is this John exactly, and why would he want to go to the forests at such an unusual hour each day, which you will reflect in the later chapters.

At home, what is everyone doing, and what has John been doing particularly- is he at contempt with life and what of the paintings inside his room, one that is incomplete-what could we say about that? The lines are beginning to get detached, and John- he too seems to be overwhelmed by such inaccurate rhythms that are trying to get hold of him. And the next line, what is it that you could write about. Well, it is your book, and you are the story-teller here, so think, and explore and never stop. Take John on an adventure that will not be an easy one, and one that will require perseverance and calmness, but the entirety of the concept, allowing John to explore himself and everyone around him inside the sheets which you, as a writer own.

I hope this little piece of writing will be useful to you in trying to let go, of thoughts which are trying to hinder you from exploring your own mind, and do start with a simple line-one that need not necessarily define life to everyone, but will surely defines yours’.

-Yogesh Chandra

Image Courtesy: http://www.theoslotimes.com/upload/144102501662.png