Baba closed his diary and asked me, “Have you stopped writing? Like, don’t you update your blog anymore?”. The question was quite a surprise for me, as he never really reads what I write. “Why? and how do YOU know?”, I replied with a question. He shrugged his shoulders in a bruh-I’ve-got-some-experience way. “No, you just don’t speak that much now, like the way you used to. I haven’t seen you typing for long hours in a long while as well.”, was his answer.
24 hours passed by.
Bhai came home and I immediately gave him a glass full of water. A conversation began. After a while he put his glass back on a nearby table and asked me a similar question, “Have you stopped writing blogs?”. I wasn’t surprised, for I knew that he had been reading my stuff for quite some time. “Yes.”, I didn’t bother to give him an explanation at first. “Why?”, he was still curious. “Time constraints, I suppose.”, I tried to get rid of the topic. “Well, no, that’s not the matter. You have time for Instagram and not for WordPress? How is that possible?”, he initiated a discussion-like-debate. I thought for a moment and said, “Probably? I think I lost all of my inspiration to write. There are loads of ideas, but words just don’t come together. So yeah.” Noticing the seriousness in my voice, he sarcastically replied, “Or maybe you’re done erupting all your poison into your writings.” and laughed the topic away.
But I am still thinking about the same thing. And I feel extremely sorry for Coleridge. For those of you who don’t know the reference, google him maybe?
Its not that I have actually lost all inspiration, its just the lack of binding words. I don’t think that I can convey my ideas the way I used to. I used to express things nicely, (Look at the word “things”. Sigh.) but I can’t do that stuff again (read at the moment). The lack of ideas isn’t there, neither is the lack of motivation; its the lack of medium and words. Its like, you are thinking, but the procedure stays incomplete because the stuff that you are thinking stays in your mind and can not come out in the form of words. Its like a blank bubble of thought. I don’t even know how to explain what I am trying to say, this photo might help.
Or maybe its just the mere shift of focus. I have been focusing more on my art skills and photography lately. They are working as amazing mediums of expression, and sometimes I write long captions too so that this writing thing doesn’t fade away. But the question remains – how long will it take to come back to me? The spark that always pushed me to write? The eruption through layers of repression – when will it take place? Maybe the only way out is to wait (and to read). I just miss that frictional ignition. That combustion. That diffusion of emotion into words. I hope that I get it back soon.
Till then, enjoy my photography and artworks. Also, stay tuned all you new followers. I am not always like this. And thank you for the follow(s), means a lot.