Writing In The Time Of Demongate

23rd November 2016

Where Am I?

Birthdays are tough. This time no less so.

Rewind to 8th November. I have been lost and found to myself, several times over in a loop since that evening.

I’d been out in quest of Jagaddhatri (it being her Puja) and returned disappointed; frustrated, jostled, hungry and dirty, carrying a handful of sad jaded notes that I coaxed with the help of a friendly security guard, out of a gloomy, unfamiliar ATM along the way. I needed money for a major “chemical fix” of a most menacing plumbing appurtenance threatening to fall through my ceiling, and I was low on energy. Within minutes of getting home, another unprecedented demon struck. The Money Demon - an altogether unfamiliar one. Hell, most of the people around me couldn’t even comprehend that it was a demon!

Two weeks thereon, I have to pause and reflect on the most unceremonious conclusion to a highly energetic and fulfilling festive season – replete with epiphanies and miracles as never before and rich with innovative celebrations. The greatest miracle of all had been the way I wrote, the way I delved into increasingly deeper and sometimes murkier waters in my quest for those elusive pearls of insight. I was being rewarded – with clarity, happiness and balance within and without. And then wham! One demon and swiftly on its heels another bigger demon, The Dumpster Demon of USA! 

There hasn’t been a word from me in these two weeks here on Pages. I seem to have spent all my resources – my eye and mind power and my precious hours – either staying ahead of potentially menacing situations or building back my equanimity to pass through the exit gate of fifty nine. I have however kept writing down my thoughts often and spontaneously on every possible wall I pass by. My own personal spaces have served me well. And perhaps talking to myself has saved sanity that is compromised by fractious engagement with sundry rifraf aka the defence counsel for Demons Inc. Related to my book I have continued the non-stop imaginary conversations in my head. They keep me connected with the goal which is increasingly becoming like one more of those ephemeral Imrammas. 

Elusive and Illusory? Not.
Putting something, anything - even if it isn’t a line in the book - in writing, reaffirms me as a writer. Every idea/opinion I express fearlessly – and I am starting to get better at that after decades of fearing fear itself – is my affirmation as an author – someone with authority over my written creation. Commit to paper as they say! Even as I let go of it more and more willingly to the universe I becoming more aware of letting go what is mine to let go of! Something I’m starting to discover is that I write better than I speak but I now speak almost as well as I write! And in a bit – god take my stage fright away- I might actually deliver an impromptu speech that could be worth listening to.

God give me the confidence! As of now I am still that person with fear of an audience. A real physical audience out there, all appearing to fix me with their one collective eye of scrutiny! In fairness I need folks to read and to critique. And the folks are not forthcoming. Heck criticize, flay if you must! Or I will continue to address, whether in speech or writing, an imaginary audience I know pretty little about. . 

Maybe good old fashioned “eenie-meenie” would do the trick. Put out the Pages Menu – that delightful spread of notes, neatly arranged in an appealing two by two, with a few tantalizing opening lines and a picture attached to each title – a glance, and pick one up without overthinking. While the whole spread is interconnected in some ways and has followed a kind of evolutionary progression, they still stand alone as meaningful musings. 

Sometimes random, sometime in quest, sometimes on a leg of a journey or a mission. They are my stories. At some point as a collective they could certainly be My Story! Read while I hurl myself in earnest – one arm and leg embracing Pages and the other gathering up the 33 essays and firmly weaving them into A Night’s Tale! Maybe the hands will pause – to change hands with each other - and continue and ideas from one will fire up the kiln the other bakes in.

Footnote: A note of encouragement from Kim
"It always surprises me that you feel apprehensive about your audiences, since so many audiences in many parts of the world have found your writing so meaningful. I hope you will allow yourself to be convinced of their supportive reactions. And I "double dog dare you," as we used to say when we were kids, to make the shift to writing your book, which you have actually already begun, and for which your Pages have already laid the foundation. I've heard you express your regrets that your mom never really made this shift, and I want to say, you as her heir can help realize her potential!"

PS - I am posting this as I prepare to pass through the exit gate of 61