It’s a different day. It feels different. Though the sun’s still piercing through the window, and crows are beginning to caw. But as I mentioned twice in three sentences, it feels different.
There’s a piece of thread or maybe a strand of hair hanging from the grill outside the window, and with it a piece of paper, interwoven as though a mini-kite.
Day 3 of writing for reason:
I don’t feel the urge to write this. But muscle memory won’t memorise itself. I understand how inaccurate that last sentence was and frankly I like the way it sounds. So it stays. When I say I don’t feel the urge to write this, it’s not out of anger or boredom. It’s not out of nihilism either. Thankfully.
Well, I’m back. I’ve convinced myself that writing these ramblings work like therapy. I have a table fan whirring in my ear and the sunlight seeping through the window. Sunlight, when you haven’t slept, appears to be piercing.
Between the guards who are trying to salvage minute after minute of their night’s forbidden sleep
And the early risers looking to get some exercise in the form of brisk walks
And the daily bread earners failing to hide sleep in their eyes as they open shop
I am a different creature altogether,
An excerpt from a book that I’ll probably never get myself to finish writing.
I first met Avinaash Mantra in an uber. That was one of the many times I would see him, I just didn’t know him. I probably would’ve been less intrigued. That was also one of the many professions that he had. His uber driver gig, not having me seeing him multiple times with altering levels of intrigue. I’m pretty sure that’s his hobby though.
You know it’s love at first sight when an uber driver finds you at your specified location without reaching the favourites section of your call log. Continue reading
We all have the natural instinct, an innate ability to blow up things out of proportion. It takes a special kind of strength to stop yourself from doing that.
We all face situations that break us, either brick-by-brick or altogether. To get out of that broken relationship, get out of that soul-sucking job, get out of any situation that makes you doubt your self-worth, it takes courage. But how do we get that courage flowing through our veins?
I’ve been scribbling for a while now. Not leading to much substance.
But that doesn’t mean one should stop trying. You keep writing anyway till it all starts making sense. You write to improve, for there are better writers than there are worse.
You write to prove, it’s good to remind yourself what you’re capable of. You write because it feels good anyway, well, at least eventually. Continue reading
An unpacked suitcase from a month-ago trip. A work-desk that hasn’t been used for work for the better part of a decade is now a storage space that has run out of space.
The packets of milk on the table spend the customary hour-long daily layover between the door and the fridge. Continue reading