Addicted!!!!!

"You should again write something", he said to me enjoying his Death by chocolate. This is a regular stuff. We spur each other to perform , in my case just to get inspired back to write something. That’s true, I crave for inspiration. That’s the problem it doesn’t generate spontaneously. I have to search it. But its harsh for I am such a lackadaisical fellow. If given a choice I will just lay down on a sand beach, doing nothing. But the added responsibility of being successful in the WORLD wakes me up, force me up to dress up and do the basic. Who added this responsibility? Its not a external factor, but Something inside me. We are bundles of Personalities, tied together along with heels and fitted as spokes in this cliched "wheel of life". So, one of that spoke lay me down and another spurs to perform the hallowed duty of being successful. These two surely must be fitted at extremities.

But don't have the notion that I am some sort of recluse. In fact I have the same burning desire of success and fame as you all, or may be a quantum more.But just I couldn't’t decide what success is?

Darn! This is the same phase during most of my writings when I completely loose the plot. So, how I started? Yeah! I was on the advise to write.It was very noble of him to say so, even after reading what I write.I have no work so I thought for my past that how and why I started writing the shitty bits. And why I like writing..Every thing has a cause. I am a great believer in causality. But just have not understood it completely.

I realized writing has been like an addiction, after every few days the dose is required even when you know the drug is not performing but hampering you.. But looking back,one thing I found quite interesting. I never wanted to become a writer, not once. May be few months back when I ventured into short stories I thought( mostly due to encouragement of my brother and sister in law) for once to give a try but then few instances after that dragged me back to my burrow. To the point I felt writing as meaningless. It was serving no purpose and my other routes of success(my professional life) was severely affected. And then I realized I never wanted to become a writer, all I want to become was a storyteller, a Raconteur.

I started writing poems in my economics class in eleventh at the age 16, in Hindi. I even remember the month. It was august. When I started I took it as a joke, like the one I wrote in sixth class, some sort of parody of a rap song of bollywood which were quite famous those days. That was childhood but the poem in that economics class gave me a sense that I have things to tell. At that time I discovered classic Hindi poetry of Maithli, Dinkar, Jayshankar Prasad and many more and along with them were bollywood lyrics, old ones…Gulzar, Sahir, Kaifi…and may whose lyricists I don’t know.. I was wooed into poetry.And then I went crazy, writing everywhere and anytime I can, not parodies but proper Hindi poems .On the back of my physics notes on English reader book, everywhere. Some I wrote were good. One of the poems, was quite well received and truly it was fascinating. But then I went through a plateau and Board examinations arrived. The poetry seemed futile for truly then also I never wanted to be a poet. I wanted to tell stories. All the times they were running on my mind. I wanted to live so many lives. And the realization that I had only one life to do that forced me into making these plots and then thought to make them into motion pictures. Writing stories dont occur for i realized some chunks in my armour. But I had some wonderful plots......of what I want to do at different moments at that time........

To be a doctor fighting his own fears and helping his patient to recuperate. A fighter pilot fallen into a desert and finding his way back.A stylish detective untangling the webs around him. An audacious coast guard helping his friends to fight mysterious prehistoric reptiles. A person who stood along his professional values as an assassin as his only friend leaves him to save his Love's father(a curropt politician) being killed by the friend. A cop fighting his past fears of accidentally killing a child and then coming out of the trauma to help a woman save her child from the Mobsters. And the dream project that I thought/dream would set benchmarks, "REVOLUTIONARY" about a person who changed the world, about how he got transformed from being a frightened kid to revolutionary changing the face of the world,understanding what went through his mind during the change….how the values were built for which he fought and lived.

There were many plots, everything I heard, everything I saw , I just converted into something that I fancied. And I rejoiced, truly. And then I decide I want to tell these stories to the world. The only problem was I was pathetic in grammar and my word power was equivalent to Bhutan's military power. There was no scope for me to proceed. But then I thought, direction doesn’t need words. What important is how I see, so I decided I should be a Director.A new prob surfaced after sometime I had seen dreams a lot, now it was time to execute and I don’t know anything how to? The plot was okay but plot is only 1%; actually its nothing. With the rest part I just get stuck, anything I thought felt mediocre. But I have lived so long with those feelings of feeling a direction shot in every scene I saw that I have fallen in love with the idea of being a Director.I started by having a lot of plots to tell and that’s why decided to be a director and ended up with a hankering for being a director with paucity of stories. Everything concieved now is felt naive and mediocre. I wanted to run....without learning how to run.

But I continued writing poetry. They were simple, any nice word that I learnt, I used and anything I felt beautiful I described. And for once I thought I should write what others like.... but its not my way..... sorry I can't. So again I write in my way, as I have always did.......I never participated in any contest...for I thought these poems are only for me.... but this blog thing was good....atleast to make a collection.

That's one of the reason I started this blog.

Secondly, I just wanted to express. I always have loved it...to say what I feel. People have always loved me initially and then discarded me as only a dreamer and it hurt sometimes to be unable to make the people understand what you mean....in reality. That's why this blog.... just a medium to hoot out whatever I churn.

So, I will write because I dont have control. I won't say I enjoy it too much but it gives me a kick. You are right Mister, I should write and I will. You just enjoy your Death by chocolate.

Cheers.