I’ve been sitting here at
this computer since a long hour. My eyes are focused at my PC; albeit more
eloquently, focusing nothing in particular. The truth is that I want to write
something here, for my blog. But my mind goes all blank - exactly like the blank
page right in front of me.
Yet, I sit. I wait more.
And I wait for words to come. I want to fill the page, dress them with words
and create my own story. I already have a few stories in my mind that I want to
write here. One of them is about the arrival of spring in Bhutan and the joy it
brings to me, which is to say, to my heart.
So, I scribble a few
sentences. But all I get are wrong words, wrong story angles. I scratch my
head, grumbling, I don’t mean to say it that way. I’m looking for another way
to put it. And, I erase them immediately.
Like this, every time, I
struggle to find the words, to write stories. Writing is incredibly hard. Real
hard, I admit. It’s a long, for me, arduous process. But you know what? I never
fail to keep on believing that it’s possible – that if I’ve a little faith, my
writings might one day be good. At least, for my fellow bloggers and friends.
I’m, it’s telling, addicted
to the healthy act of writing. I’m being pulled by words, I can’t stop them.
Story ideas burst open anywhere I go, anytime. And I’ve to just start writing
even my ideas are boring, cliché, predictable.
Like me, I know, all other fellow
bloggers find meaning and majesty in just writing words. We are lovers of words,
aren’t we? You don’t have to tell me all about this. Because that I spend hours
going through your blogs; one blog after another, one post after another.
And what intrigues me the
most is the way you care passionately about writing, your insatiable curiosity
and astute critical mind, your commitment to storytelling. Your stories make me
laugh, cry, wince or even stand back in awe.
When you talk of particular
thing, I feel goose bumps of familiarity and it feeds me similar sensation like
you experience. I wonder, thrilled, you have pulled out all the contents of my
own heart and put them on your blog, in words. But thank goodness, you make me
feel that I am not alone. We share the same preoccupation with life and death,
love and loss, happiness and heartache, and hope and apathy. After all, we all
are walking this bumpy ride of life.
I’m telling you this – one
thing more. Your comments make me giddy with pride and pleasure. And I hope it
gives you the similar feelings. But more beautifully, it gives you a little
nudge of encouragement to write down, more seriously. In the end, that’s what we
need in our journey of writing.
I’m going to say this
though. Ahem…I envy those good bloggers, seriously, the way you maintain your
blogs. I, quite strange, envy when you pick the freshest ideas and dress them
with gorgeous words. I envy the way you effortlessly pour your heart out on
your blog, so beautiful. But oddly, wonderfully, how I wish hanging out with you
(over a cup of tea or walk) and feeling smarter than I was or ever will be.
Today, it has been two
years and half that I’ve been blogging. And I can’t tell you what immense and
ineffable joy it brings me to have written all these stories on my blog. Sometimes,
I wonder: Did I really write all these
stories?