And suddenly I have nothing to write about. A long night at work – I wanted to write about it – how tiring and hopeless situations you grow into at around 2.30 am in the morning typing in some code that you are no longer sure of. I wanted to write about that. I wanted to take a shot at poetry – dead of a night – smoky chilled air – rains – thunderstorms – trees wavering like tresses of the love I deserved – I might have jotted down the perfect poem for the moment. I wanted to write about my struggles. I would have liked to finish my debut novel in a one night’s shot. I wanted to write a tale – a disarming one or maybe even a spooky one that would leave me in despair by the end of it – perfect setting of a night and an under-construction would-be corporate building – cranes, dump-trucks, excavators all lying dead like there never was any life in them. I wanted to make new metaphors and similes- like a bulldozer’s night sleep or lie like a windowpane! Continue reading “Nothing to write about!”
I was put in charge of hospitality committee and while preparing, since filtered water was available only in the teacher’s common room, had to drink untreated water many a times. This had distorted the texture and pitch of my voice temporarily. I love my voice, both literally and idiomatically. So it was a major setback. The croaky voice was intelligible only to me. Two days after the event was over, I was going to my classroom via the library corridor. She was walking towards the library and I was walking towards her. She waved her hand and helloed. I mumbled something that I don’t remember now. She asked me if I had drunk raw water from the supply taps. I had a silly smile on my face while nodding affirmatively. She smiled. That was magic, a surreal encounter of charm and power of beauty.