Soliloquy

'Come back’ oh how much I would love to come back to my first love.. Did I feel the familiar symptoms..  heart beat increasing.. hurrying for no apparent reason.. panicking or even hurried short breaths.. no not at all… all I feel is curiosity, anticipation and even despair.. when at this moment I decide to come back to my first love.. to write.. again..

But will I be remembered after all these many days.. I have been gone an awfully long time when things changed around me.. why would I be etched in your memory? What sort of credit do I have compared to others that makes me stay there?

What is the use in seeking others esteem… people create, to quench their own thirst don’t they? Then why anticipate?

An artist.. a writer.. a performer.. they live survive in the understanding and admiration that flicks on the audience eyes.. without that the thirst will always remain…

How much of truth is there in those words..?

But even if I find the truth what would I write about..

There are hundreds of things to write about but still one topic is hard to find?

Let me write about the current social conditions.. but what is the use in performing autopsy on something long dead and ever decaying? Am I not one of those little birds that sit around the corner and feed on the ashes deluding myself that it is a fruit.. or slumping down without even the strength or ability to think and know that ashes are not meant to be eaten..

Or I could write about my day to day life.. but that would not take more than a page.. the tiring life can be put in an endless loop with my life time as exit scenario and keep it rolling copying from each page and into each page the same old words.. the same old life and the same old actions..

Despair and self-loathing suits well with poetry.. than short story.. I think

I could blend in the truth and fiction plating them up together into long braids until the point of what is reality and what is fiction just vanishes.. and I could sit there and watch my own life in my own words..

Is it possible?

Why not? I could write like this..

“Today as I came home from office yet another tiring day.. I looked unintentionally but as I do every day to the right side of the big highway.. where the Swampland of the state lay neglected with only a dilapidated board saying that the property is taken care of by the government.. just like the way our life’s are taken care of.. hanging helplessly with the iron plates corroded and eaten by the fat ass rust, waiting happily for a big wind to come in the way to fall off with no care to the marsh and blend-in with the earth and soil.

And there at the corner of the Swampland, behind the tree hidden from the normal view but visible to those who seek..  stood a girl just like the day before and the day before. She wore bright saree that glittered in the street light and had I smelled I would have got the wimps of the jasmine flowers in her head. Men if they want her would slow down the vehicle and she would get in.. within a second like she was with them even before they stopped the vehicle. I had seen this for few days now and today involuntarily I looked again… but was met with her gaze.. I averted my eyes in too short a jiffy and kept them to the road.. and at the very second when i crossed her again.. I looked.. and saw in her eyes the look of..”

It is easy once started.. just have to keep going and writing that is all.. 

No its not that easy.. also i may not be politically correct If i go on wiring...also that would be too serious one to come back to writing with.. I could write something hilarious.. a poetry per say? Like the Muddlehead..

What a muddle head was he,

That man who lived in Petushkee!

He walked upto a tram one day

And climbed in very sprightly;

Conductor thought that he would pay,

Instead he said politely:

"Parding your beggon,

Kister Monductor,

I'm off for a week's vacation;

I stop you to beg your cramway tar

As soon as we reach the station."

Conductor got a fright

And didn't sleep that nite.

What a muddle head was he,

That man who lived in Petushkee!

I could write it to suit current times..

The man I met today looked very serious

And told me a story of a divorce that was precarious

When he finished I felt it was hilarious

Coz his wife ran-away with his attorney whom he thought was a genius

Is that hilarious? Is that not? Well that is what is happening now a days..

“Forget reality fiction suits life better” says a friend..

Hmm then I can sit around and write about two lovers who never propose and brood “if only”? A lady sipping her “monsoon coffee” forgetting her real life? Or about “The Dusty cupboards"! Like the way you write..???

 “Shut up.. If u wanna write.. write! stop criticizing my works..” 

So saying I started to walk away cursing my decision to sit through this discussion with a friend who wanted to start writing again.

“Hey I am sorry.. I was just kidding you.. come here” he called me back..

I forgave him at that instant, for he was a good writer.. and after few deep breaths to calm myself I said..

“You talked about many things now.. pull any one of those and start writing…”

He looked at me with a puzzled gaze and asked..

“About what..!!!”

{Fiction}

Phew that was an irritating encounter.. what did you think?

Any way.. I am back too! 

How are you guys.. I missed you all…! :)