Strokes of experiences carve out sentiments… Dreams and fascinations look for molds to take shape… with little knowledge of words I weave expressions, which till now wandered orphaned and abandoned…
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
LEARNING EN ROUTE THE SANDS OF TIME
Monday, February 6, 2012
Go for it.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Congrats! A complete aberration is fertile again. Rejoice!
Wonder if it happens often with writers... that after a point in time, one feels famished on new thoughts, ideas and even words too. You might understand the relevance and intent behind what needs to be expressed and to whom, but as you begin to craft it out on a sheet of paper, words betray you, emotions-escape, the tone is lost and thoughts lay crippled. And you feel no less than a complete aberration!
Soon, to free yourself from this uncanny situation of derailed senses, you try n-number of activities to revive the momentary loss of focus and creativity. And then begins the search for some inspiration, and much like the saying “nothing succeeds like success”; I believe “nothing creates (inspires creativity) like creativity”. But, while you jostle for those satiating pieces of great art, you hop from one writing, to another video, and to the next song, further to a great collection of photography and so on.
Though jumping around with little or no attention to what you are absorbing from each one of them, your impatient-craving for that completeness, makes you a crazy rover. Hovering around in search of an adhesive that will make-whole, your fallen pieces, to complete and make-believe yourself; you begin to scribble yet again and to your amazement you have the problem in front of you, trapped in words and solved, for you blabbed it out, and finally it sits pretty as a blog-post, glaring back at you in awe.
Congrats! Discomfort and disruption has given birth to innovation yet again and made you fertile...Rejoice!
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Dangling Desires
Wandering without focus in the dessert of desires, I often fall upon the ground to taste the sands of time. With liquid dreams of a world so plush, I clutch the grainy-gold, bringing it close to my chipped lips; I close my flooded eyes and blow it gently like my wishful eyelash…

