On The Verge of Becoming A Writer

 

That night she was reading Salman Rushdie, an author she always wanted to read, not because of his well-known work particularly but because of the headlines he made for his work. She got hold of Midnight’s Children and was reading about what gave birth to such a magnificent work. It is always fascinating to know what force is behind any splendid creation. As she was melting herself into the work of Mr. Rushdie, she felt an urge, an urge that never left her alone whenever she read, an urge to relate herself to the characters of the book. She had this strange habit of relating herself to every character of the book especially the antagonist. I guess everyone who reads can relate. They say that the work of the author is the sum total of his experiences in life. Even the fiction is the product of more of his experience than his imagination. This she could tell from the books she had read; the writer’s take a lot from their personal lives.

This was the time of realization, she thought that her life story is also worth telling; at least she thought it to be interesting. And if she thought so, she can make her audience think so too, if she comes out to be a good writer. She put Salman Rushdie aside for the time being so that she could think of what part of her life she would want to share. While she was thinking she thought of Virginia Woolf, a writer she loved. She thought more of Mrs. Dalloway, one of the famous characters from her work, and how Virginia Woolf portrayed her using her own personal life. For instance, Mrs. Dalloway’s character realizes that she is bisexual in nature, of which Virginia Woolf herself was guilty about.

Putting one’s life instances in fiction seems to me a kind of forgery. But that’s how fictions come to life. They say fictions are more real than reality itself, I suppose this fact makes that happen. She thought she got to take inspiration from the writer’s work to become a successful one herself. But that might influence her work. Getting influence is not bad, but she wanted to produce something pure, something unadulterated. But then no work of art is unadulterated whether it was Picasso or Shakespeare, they all had someone or something that influenced them.

To Be continued….

In Search of a Beautiful Lagoon

She never knew a usual Friday evening will turn her life upside down. She wished it never happened. Though she has always been a girl acting on her impulses but this time she thought she might regret it. She had a feeling of being trapped and she felt she shouldn't have done it in the first place. She should never have ventured those unknown territories, these territories are not meant for her, she thought! But now she is in the unknowns not quite sure where the path might lead. She feels lost, as she cannot see the way out, the dark jungle has gone wild on her. Her current state of mind is nothing short of doubts, as she tries to find the path to her freedom again…freedom of her thoughts, freedom of herself. A girl who wants to be a bird and wishes to fly, has now flown to her own doom, she feels. She flew in search of a beautiful lagoon but landed in the middle of nothing. She wants to get out of it maybe, but little she knows that there is no way out now. But one thing stands sure she either will come out victorious or a sore loser. Whatever is in store, she wishes to find it soon as prolonged journey might tire her to an extent that she doesn't fly again. Also she wishes instead of her finding the lagoon, the lagoon finds her. She has gone very far this time in search of the lagoon, putting a lot of things on stake…

The girl has always been an adventurous one; she always had a wild streak which made her venture into the unknown. The unknown territories are not quite known for their kindness. She feared now…fear that she might get lost in the dark jungle…fear that she might not want to come out of the jungle. The darkness how much ever cruel it is…it tends to take the guest in its lap forever like a lover. She feared she might fall in love with the darkness and the lagoon search might not matter to her…

She might get engulfed by the dark jungle she has entered into, she thought…But as of now she just wants to put all her energies to find the lagoon.

Time will tell what is in store for her…

What if I fail?

“What if I fail Daddy?” Nancy who was preparing for her exams asked her father. Her father gave her a stern look, a look that could freeze water back into ice. She felt she had entered into an enemy camp by asking that question and she wanted to escape from there as soon as possible before she gets bombarded with words. Words that would have the capacity to rip her off her confidence, if there was left any. But to her surprise her father did not say anything, maybe he thought that his famous freezing look will suffice for now.  Nancy though relieved from the long question answer round, wanted an answer to that question. The question was ringing in her ears in a loop.

She did not want to fail because she knew the answer to the question. The possibilities scared her to death. Nancy knew that how much ever people around her support her but in the end life is an individual game. People around are just there as fillers, like an advertisement commercial between a test match. Everybody is responsible for their own performances, one either has to ball well or bat well.

Her reverie was broken when she heard her father politely say,”You would get another chance to try, my little doll!”Her father was noticing her ever since she asked that question. She had never thought of that answer. The answer sounded quite hopeful to her, but now she had another question in her mind. “What would my friends and relatives say?” Her father listened to the question and very thoughtfully answered, “that is there problem not yours, my girl!”  The girl said, “But daddy, I don’t want them to consider me a failure!” Her father patted her back and said “Nancy, you are not what people consider you; you are what you consider yourself!” Nancy felt as if a ton of load has been put off her chest. Her father’s words came as a breath of fresh air. Her father was speaking from the life’s experience. She was overwhelmed by the conversation she had with her father.  

Like Nancy we all at some point in time are confronted by these questions. I am sure we all have had our share of self doubt. But life is what we make out of it. Though like Nancy I have learned my lesson but still I think this question will haunt me forever, “What if I fail?”