Much ado about writing
by Ambareesh Sr Ja
The best things about penning an article and in this respect an original one; is the feeling of starting at one point and not knowing where one would end up. Unless you are somehow blessed with Carol-ised writing genes or a bad-grammar-tolerant-Shakespearean audience, being creative is not an easy task.
There. The first paragraph of this wannabe essay is as generic as it could be. I’ve heard that writing only comes from life experiences, bad decisions and eventually better judgments. After analyzing my brief 19 year old existence in this world, I’ve come to the conclusion that my life, despite my best efforts hasn’t been a biographer’s dream. So for lack of anything mind blowing, why not write about -….writing about?
Just like any kid born in the early nineteen nintees,the author’s stint with writing started with his English examinations, where questions always started with “In about xxx words write a brief essay on xxx…”.Neither was the first xxx brief, nor the second xxx in anyway interesting. I mean come on; there is a limit to the ink wasting that you can do on honesty being the best policy! And just in case you get in the zone and end up writing something satisfying (never within the word limit of course), then you stand the risk of being judged. Teachers, I’ve observed, are big-time fans of thinking way within the box. Numerous underlined sentences, pop culture references cruelly crossed out, few remarks about the precise difference between ‘who ‘and ‘whom’ ; in short, the answer sheet would never be a pretty sight. High school was in some way better- they gave us extended world limits, and a license to be cool; at least to try to be. But the results again, weren’t encouraging.
Diary entries. Now this one was a biggie. The liberty of not being marked on, and of not having an audience, richly helped its authenticity. Well, there were instances when I would put in fancy expressions and eight syllable words to impress the imaginary reader- after all I should be prepared – the odds of humanity being wiped out in a day, and my diary being the only script that survives, is quite high. But genuinely speaking, these were thoughts and feelings fused with the need to be heard. On a serious note, reading one’s old entries is quite a different experience. Barring the silliness of it all, it is like seeing yourself grow up. That time in your life, where your worries were limited to not having a fancy pen, talking to that cute girl with dimples, scoring a goal or worst case – getting a 90+! ; is worthy of being remembered.
So what have I learnt from all this? Our own words are influential. Yes.
Maybe not in an ‘its-gonna-change-your-life-today’ kinda way, but they leave you with a pleasant feeling. And that should be or could be the impetus to write. No fear of rejection slips, no fear of being graded or laughed upon. Just be you, be me.