Inspiration – I’m not sure whether it comes to me or I just fail to recognize that I have sought it too but consciously, I never went looking for inspiration.
I was there at market, buying vegetables to cook my best dish for my dad, so I can ask him to increase my pocket money or just another ordinary situation like that and suddenly, someone or something makes me want to write. I might not have spoken to anyone there; nothing extraordinary might have happened but I still want to weave a story around no one or nothing in particular.
I don’t write just for the heck of it; if that was the case then I might have written a flimsy novel by now – stealing little from television soaps, little from Hollywood and little from foreign authored books – and had a best seller in my name. Most of the Indian authors are doing something similar, aren’t they? I’m not even sure whether it is right to address them as authors. Anyway, let’s get back to ‘inspiration’ that we were talking about, shall we?
I remember someone telling me or it could be that I read it somewhere that it is important to travel and meet people in order to be a good writer. I know not how true it is but what I know for sure is that I could do travelling – plenty, to be precise.
I want to sleep under the sun and surrender myself to those meaningless dreams that give me nothing else but assurance that I’m still the master of my imagination; while, my body soaks in the energy that the mighty sun bestows upon us, earthlings.
I want to stroll from a street to another, while I listen to birds chirp and take pictures of people, all in a foreign land. People of unknown (at least, unknown to me) lands always intrigue me. Everyone got numerous stories to tell, don’t they? A carpenter’s labor to a painter’s art – everything tells a story. I want to take pictures of them and write stories that those pictures tell me. I want to just pick up a camera and travel around the world, until my shoes tear off, until I’m ready to hold a pen.
When I hold a pen, words will flow and bloom into a beautiful flower or so I hope. I will hear bells ring in the distant to whose sound my soul will, euphorically, dance. Then, my heart won’t crave for comfort from others as it shall find solace in the characters that I create. In summer, it will rain and in winter, the sun will shine, filling me with hope and energy enough to conquer the world. It will accord me to walk the world like a queen.
A queen I shall become and rule the world of my imagination.