An unanimated writer.

“Write, write, write!”, he told himself first thing in the morning. It had been almost a month now since he had written anything, but there was never a day where he hadn’t thought about writing. At times when he sat in his hostel room in front of the computer, thoughts come flowing towards him, “Hey, the silence of this room is so brilliant that I simply have to write about it”. By the time he logs into his wordpress account, the silence is no more, and so is his motivation.

Being depressed and wounded at not being able to do the one thing that he claims to love doing, he takes a stroll along the streets. He keeps his eyes open for he knows that motivation was out there somewhere in something.

He sees the beggars on the streets and thinks. “Oh my, what a lucky life I have. I seriously should write about the blessings that I have”. However, for some reason that has been eluding him, his thoughts go no further than that one sentence.

He sees a group of girls standing on the road side, all dressed up and beautified, ready to be picked up by someone. He thinks, “What miserable circumstances have brought these poor creatures to this! Or maybe they do enjoy what they do? I should go talk to one of them.” A certain shiver up his spine and sudden drying up of his tongue pulls his mind back from the idea. He is at a loss for words again.

He stops taking the bus to his office. Instead he walks half an hour each day hoping to find motivation waiting for him somewhere out there. He sees the traffic police, practicing some sort of dance moves with both his hands. He sees the man on the bike, ear on his ring, tattoo on his face and arms, sports shoe, torn jeans, a few necklaces, a few rings, shiny teeth, jeans jacket, a cigarette in his mouth, having an expression of his freedom to run down anybody on the street being denied of him.

He sees the people selling fruits and vegetables on the grocery carts. He sees their children running and playing around them. He wonders how happiness is relative and broods on what it was like when he was their age. He sees couples walking hand in hand and thinks whether it was luck or dismay that he witnessed. He sees the different cars being driven by different people roaring past him in an endless manner.

He fails to find what he looks for in all this and it hurts him more than ever to not know what it is that is holding him back. Why having so much exposure could not find him anything to write about. This was not the case when he was at college where he could find interesting things to think about and write almost every day. What has changed? Oh, what has changed!

He reaches his office and sits down to work. He wants to write. He is burning inside. Alas, all that he finds himself writing are mails. Just mails. He tries to find joy in them but try as he might, he could not. He tells to himself, “Write.” Nothing happens. He again orders, “I said write!”. Still nothing. “Write, damn you!”.

He composes himself. He knows time waits for no one. He realized he can’t wait for motivation. He logs into his wordpress account. He finishes writing a piece. A gentle smile comes over his face. He realizes that all is not lost. He has time. He will try. He has to succeed.

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The night sky.

When darkness wraps the infant world in its hands, the humans fear of the chaos outside. They fear the dark for it does not let them see, and what the humans don’t see, they fear. Little do they realize the beauty that exists, within the realm of dark. They do not linger to behold the jewel of Earth, that shines with a light so pleasant, that it soothes one’s heart, like the music of a nightingale.

The moon, he shines like a pearl that reflects the golden rays. He shows the ray of hope amidst all the darkness. Not alone, he is! For his companions soon join him and decorate the heavenly skies, the stars! They are far away, away from the corrupt hands of men, blazing with a fire so strong, that we see a twinkle of what they are.

A silence prevails, and men fear that too. For it makes them feel they are alone, alone in a world so big, which makes them realize, how insignificant they are. But are we alone? Not at all! We forget that we too are a part of the universe, as much as everything else is. If not for them, we wouldn’t be here. So why do you feel lonely, when you are standing among the innocent ones that support your existence?

Men, busy they are! Time, they do not have to think of where they live. They are busy slandering against their fellow beings, without realizing that the pearls and jewels of the universe exists for them too.

Oh bearers of brain, make yourself worthy of the gift of thought. And spare sometime to witness the world around. Look at the skies and behold the shining moon, who smiles at you and shines light upon you, when all around is dark. Be the moon, and the stars shall accompany you. Be the moon and help the ones lost in the dark.

Pachelbel’s Canon.

There are times when your heart fills with an unexplainable joy upon something that happens around you. It may happen when one of your dreams turn into reality, or maybe when you see the happiness of your loved ones, or maybe..

Maybe when you are sitting there, alone, thinking about how lovely the world is, enjoying the pitter patter of the rain, pampering yourself with the green around you, hoping, wishing and praying for the world to be good, for it to become better with each passing breath…