White, The Color of Peace

The silence of white tells so many stories. This is the first one.

White, we call it the color of peace.
See, It makes the background look simple and beautiful,
but mixing it with others

it becomes them, submerge with them
With death, it becomes death
With life, it becomes life

With blood, it becomes blood
loses its identity, like it was never there.  

I Write Because . . .

Life is unpredictable, everything is not in our control. We try to control it in our dreams. Sometimes dreams are not enough. So we imagine, and we write, and we imagine, and we write.

I, myself, hated writing as a kid. Writing means exams, papers, homework. For me, the need for writing was limited to the exam papers, making class notes. Then one day, one of my favorite teachers forced me to take part in an essay writing competition. The topic for the competition was “ Global Warming and The impact of climate change ” and eight graders were eligible. As a fifth-grader, we do care about the environment a lot. I wrote 20 simple sentences on a single page, whatever came into my mind. I was surprised when I won that competition. It felt good. But there was no appreciation for any kind of art in the small town. It all faded away with time. During my childhood, it was all about getting good grades. It was a serious competition to get top ranks in the class. There was not much focus on art.

Writers were reserved for playing a side role in films. They were only to be seen in movies, very rarely, as father or brother of a Bollywood hero. So that they can be murdered by the villain or used in a hostage situation, but yeah, eventually get killed in the crossfire. There was never a case when the writer was a hero, not that I know of. The writing was not an option for a job or even a fun education major.

Although, Closest to a writer, there was a journalist in my town. He used to look like a typical Indian writer with his old khaki kurta, always keeping a dirty shoulder bag. He used to drive in Bajaj M80 Scooter. People used to call him when we wanted to publish some news or event in the local news section. Now he might have loved his work, but nobody would want to live like that. That is so not an attractive lifestyle. So It never came into a youngsters’ mind, to become a writer or even a journalist.

Now, 14 years later, As the internet came in, the world got bigger and bigger. In all those years, I have motivated myself to become good from bad, great from the good. All the wins and failures(mostly) have become part of me, part of who I am.

All this self-motivation (the words I say to myself) got accumulated in my mind. I got to know what I want to write about. I want to write about people, what they do, why they do, and how they change. Because they have to change. They exist on this planet to change. In all of the fiction, we see characters change. But I feel that the process of change is prolonged in real life. The novel is usually about one thing, but a lot goes on in our lives, in our heads. I got most affected by the stories I watched, heard, read, and witnessed.

Writing is a great way to find what is inside of you, to get to know you to be, to be better, better than you are now. To find whatever inside you, you have to take it out, writing on a piece of paper so that you can see, you can read. It gets me feeling of knowing myself better and better every day.
Remember when last time you had a bad stomach, you had eaten lots of spicy food. And the next day, it all just came out. That’s what happens to me. My mind gets overflown with the information consumed from the outside world. It is a great feeling to be on the other side of content.

I do want to inspire others to do unexpected things. It’s a cliche. More than that, I want to inspire myself, which shows my selfishness. I take pleasure in writing. I write because this is the only way to contain the infinite power of my mind. I like looking back into the past, it makes me sad or happy, it makes me feel some emotion, which is better than present stillness.

I write because I am afraid, what if this turned out to be one of the abundant experiments like other experiments of my life. Or maybe someday, when I get outraged, I will start writing a book.