"Start by doing what is necessary, then what is possible,
and suddenly you are doing the impossible"
- Fancis of Assisi
The small ray of light penetrated through the hazy window glass. It wasn't dawn. Dawn / breaking light happened a long time ago. I wasn't aware of the advances of nature as of how fast it was moving, or may be I was too slow to notice, or umm, lets stick to the latter one anyway. I haven't written in almost a month. The last thing I wrote was a poem which I started a long time ago. So, technically, I haven't written anything this month. Anyway, I will just skim. No, you don't have to go through the whole ordeal. It is just for reassuring myself that I am still capable of writing. So, writing, you say?
Once in a while I doubt myself trying to think about me from other's perspective and finding in awe with myself. Awe, I say not in reference to the awesomeness in the writing, rather with a question of doubt asking myself, "Is this really I, who wrote this?". After looking at it for a good long time, I snap out of it reassuring myself that I am not that bad as I think. Wait, are you laughing ? Now, please don't point the obvious. I know! I am just trying to umm.. exaggerate the nothingness. Well, that's what writers do!
The reason I haven't been able to write as much as I wanted to was that my laptop had gone haywire. It always has been that way. I just beat the shit out of it. And well, it gave up. And yes, that is the excuse that I am coming up with. Moreover, by the time I could get a new one , courtesy of my father and the company he is working in, I managed to get a brand new laptop. Else I would have to battle my way through months by saving and saving and saving. And if anyone knows me, I am not at all good with that. Believe me. At the end of the month when I a little balance left in my account, I end up buying something or the other. So, you see I think I don't like saving money. And I suppose even if I won a million dollars, I wont leave a penny behind.
Now that I got a laptop, I should have been writing every second I sat in front of my laptop. But that didn't happen. First of all, I lost the momentum of writing. I have to get back to it and that I have to adorn the thinking hat. *Looks here and there sheepishly and whispers* That's why I am buying hats hoping that one of it could be the thinking hat I so wish to adorn. And then there is this laptop with ultra sleek keyboard keys. So, I don't want to lay my fingers on it at all. Yes, seriously! Now, don't you give me that look. I am supposed to key a set of keyboard and mouse along with this laptop, which could only happen if my dad posts the required documents to the authorized company. But lucky for him, he is on a tour to Europe. Now get this, they went on a training of some sort. The training is for one day maximum but the tour plan is for over a week. You see, I could very well attend that one day training of whatever it might be and spend the rest of the days roaming different cities. If only, I could. So, what I am trying to say is that I have failed to write even a single word. And while I am writing this, I still feel like I am not writing perfectly.
The Road of Mud
[Please close your ears or um.. close your eyes; for some of the words that follow might not be appropriate]
It has been raining a lot these days. I guess this is the retreating monsoons, if I still remember geography well. And seriously don't bother correcting me, I won't change it up anyway. So due to this "rain", the roads have been muddier than ever. The problem is not only that. In order to cover that wet mud which spoils the major part below the knees, they started covering that wet bed of mud with more mud and sand and waste and whatnot. Now the result was that they made a fucking quicksand. Imagine my plight when I am am trying to cross that enormous lump of quicksand that covered the whole of road. And as you might have perfectly guessed, I stepped on it. Not once , not twice, but many time more and then I look down and stand there in the middle of the road thinking whether I should get back to my room, wash up, come back and again become the victim or just get on with it and go to office and wash up there. I choose the latter one as I have been for the past (more than a) few weeks. And believe me, it is not a pretty sight. Seriously, no kidding. I hate to look below my knees and when others look at me as if... umm, that's kinda humiliating. What this has taught me is that I could go on a treasure hunt and try stepping on the stones which are supposed to be not throwing arrows or whatever, but I end up taking a million arrows all through me. So, now you can imagine that the Indiana Jones feat that I try to pull out everything I try to cross that road always fails. The second thing I learnt was the use of the word Fuck. Every wrong step automatically generates the word. I could control it. But come with to that situation and tell to control it when my feet is a feet inside the mud. I sometimes call it the 'Fucking road of mud' because it has more fuck words than the mud. Oh, it is not only me. Every single person has shared my feelings in the same exact way as I did unless you are travelling in a car. You fucking rich person. Opps, sorry, I was in the moment. And the third weird thing to happen in spite of all this melodrama is I finding out a small hole in my shoe. I would have known about it if it wasn't for this enormous mud bed. Ever since I found out about it, I have tried my life's best to avoid filling my shoe with that huge chunk of mud. But that just helps it more to get inside. If they don't make a cement road or a perfect road, they sure as hell are gonna die in my hands very soon.
The Absence
So, a few handful of people has asked me about I not writing these days. To a few, I gave the same exact excuses that I mentioned above. And not only that. I have stopped reading other's blog as well. That's not like me. But yeah, I had to confess about that. I sincerely apologize for my inability to read all your blog posts. I am trying to catch up with as many as possible.
The Awkwardness
Believe me when I say, I just love to write my blog name where ever possible trying to attract as many as people as possible. The fact that nearly 99.999999999999999999999999999999% of the people don't care. And the remaining 0.000000000000000000000000000001% are the people whom I forcefully make them read my blog posts. So, the other day when I was on my mission-to-spread-my-blog a few people responded to it. They asked me to show my blog on my phone. Believe me, I was excited at that moment. So, the read the last poem which I wrote and scrolled down to read the comments. After reading the comments, they all said its just the girls commenting on your posts. I thought for a second, or two may be or half a minute I guess to remember a few comments by any of the guys. I did not respond to their question but I did give them a nod. Another person asked me what the conclusion of the poem was. To which I had to reply if only I knew. Its more like I can't explain. You just have to figure it out yourself. That was me speaking in my mind. And then he continued by suggesting me to read some Shakespearean work on literature and concluded that the poem also has a format like a relevance, some significance, some meaning.
P.S. Did you stab yourself to death already? Phew ! Great! Added to my body count! Thanks for contributing to my body count without I doing anything. Oh, wait I did. I wrote this blog post. If you haven't, wait for the next post. I am stopping this here because I don't too much blood on my hands on the first day itself. And yeah, don't forget to take a knife with you before you open my next post.
