Some Corny Diary Piece

I am STUBBORN. There have been a 100 times in my life when I’ve started writing wanting the best story to turn out of it. I keep hearing it being read in another’s voice; the glamour, the fluidity and the lucid body of that voice. It feels succulent in my palms, because in that voice I feel and hear the path I shall lead. As a writer I have been born here as a slave – the freest slave the world has ever created. In my stubborn existence, all I have ever wanted is a struggle; a struggle different from my parents. I travel on these buses – yellow, blue, and green. I think till my brain, those convolutions Shantanu always referred to, burns. No wonder every love of my life finds out one interesting thing in me – You think too much! But somehow in this much thought-out existence, I have constantly missed two things. Those two things that just held in their tiny hands a massive key that has opened the door to the most beautiful black hole one could have ever heard of. One, I am struggling now. All this while I have fooled myself to believe is that I have been waiting for my struggle. “I am in a waiting phase.” No Sam, snap out of it, now! It’s a struggling phase. Your struggle is not to run away from your parents, but to turn around and learn to live with them. That is your only way to be yourself. These are the loins, hearts, and sweat you sprang from. Whatever you create, they have the credit too. Give it to them. It is not straining oneself to be different that works, but it is the point of brewing and realizing that we are essentially different. You are their lucid and succulent voice. And what you may create might be for such a voice. But, two, understand it is yet again your voice that has to speak it first. It is fun to release your stagnation and understand that the river will flow, but will stay in a place when you dam it.

Written on 24.09.2008