Friday, June 5, 2009

A Quest.

I want to be able to write. Beautifully. I want my words to move you, inspire you and make you want to lift up a pen too. But I'm no good at it. Thoughts rush into my mind every time I sit at this page, a whirlwind after the other, and I can never grasp them and fit them into my chubby fists, just like I could never quite catch the colourful bubbles at the entrance of New Market, then with chubbier fists. I do not cherish a dream of being published. Yet I feel like an author every time I hit the publish button. I want to mould my words into perfectly ordered paragraphs but again I fail.

I fail repeatedly and yet I persist. Even at the cost of scorn and laughter I carry on. Because, someday I'll want to be able to produce words effortlessly. I'll want like what I've written. Now I don't. I think that whatever I write is either too mushy, or too drab. Sometimes I feel, they are too contrived and sometimes , too spontaneous.I'll want to read that something in perfect balance, perfect harmony, written by me.

But for all my quest of perfection, I think my half-baked efforts are worth chronicling. And worth displaying. Because failure is beautiful. Its beautiful in its inherent humanity. Its beautiful in its ordinariness that shows me as an unremarkable human. It is the last, ultimate proof of my mediocrity. And that is why, much as I want to, I do not take off so many of my trashy posts, mostly written in my earlier days of blogging. And I continue to write more of it.It is, for me, a harsh lesson in reality.

And that is why so many unfinished drafts still lie, littering my dashboard. I deem them too ugly to show them light.

This blog was always meant to be personal, never private. But now I find lines blurring. And I realise that I need to pull in my reins once again. Perhaps I'm afraid that the more I enter into the private,the more deplorable its content shall be. Putting something into black and white makes it a final, irreversible reality. And then I wouldn't be able to shut my eyes and ignore things, believing that if I ignore them for long enough they shall go away.

Would it be possible for me to write about the deformed and ugly that is me without cringing while re-reading it?

Till the day I can't, I must continue heeding the lines I drew a long time back and watch my life chronicled through detached eyes.

(words did find their way through my fingertips, and I re-wrote this post on 7.06.09 ; 11.55 pm)

9 chronicles more.:

hi boss.. liked your article... do follow my blog too and thanks for commenting on my blog

Somehow if I don't finish one post in one go, I just discard it. I can never continue on it from the middle.


The quest is what drives us to higher planes...towards perfections....towards execellence:-).

Again how do we benchmark it, when it comes to writing? Is it literally value or readability or simply by the number of readers !!!!

Btw, you DO write really well:-)!

thanks for commenting on my blog.

By the way, the theme is cool!

welcum. :)

To each his own.

we benchmark it by what it means to us.
nd thank ye, thank ye :D

i'll keep trying most of ur tricks ;)

You do write beautifully.."Failure is beautiful, it is beautiful because of it's inherent humanity..." Wow, you're just 18...that is remarkable...

im 19 now.
this post was composed way back :)

Sayem, for a young man, you have definitely come places. I really enjoy your style of writing, and believe me, you do have a way with words. Keep the creative juices flowing and its always some bit of us that becomes a part of our writing, and that is what adds charater to the writing. Let the blogsphere be the judge of what is apt or ugly. And ofcourse i agree with Viji.... its the quest that drives us to higher planes.

All the best and cant wait to read more.

thank you, ashwadhy :)