A friend, who witnessed the brawl, turned to me. Clenching her teeth, she breathed hard. She heaved one deep sigh, and the words finally escaped her mouth — “You are a fucking writer. Why are you torturing yourself? Why are you killing your talent by slipping through the crack often? You should not be doing anything else but writing.”
And, the impact washed over me.
I couldn’t remember the last book I read. I couldn’t think of the last blog I wrote. I felt blank and pointless as though somebody had snipped off reading and writing from my life.
However, when my therapist asked me to write about the storm inside my head, words embraced me as never before. I wrote about the man, who used to slay the monsters in my nightmares, and how the very man has become the very monster now. Before the therapist could read my thoughts, I tried proofreading. I tried ensuring that the commas, and semi-colons were in place. Despite making efforts to write a clean story, I told the therapist I couldn’t write cohesively. My friend, who bullheadedly believes that there is a writer in me, wore her signature I-told-you-so smile, as I frantically re-read my writing. She said, “Even now? Like really? You are worried about your commas?”
I reminded myself then: I must resume writing.
Since then, I kept trying to gather thoughts, and weave words. I kept trying harder, but thoughts, and words became more elusive. And, it dawned on me that if I couldn’t create something, I can still climb out of the dark well, and escape into better worlds by… reading. Or, at least, by re-reading some of my favourite passages from the books that I love.
Life seemed a lot tolerable after I began basking in many of my favourite passages.
While I struggled, for I was unable to choose the mot justes to write about the dark tunnel that I was going through, I knew I could always find solace in the words of some of my favourite authors. For I couldn’t write, I spammed my own Facebook timeline with these quotes every now and then, to let the world know that there is a beautiful passage to explain every dark, unbearable situation.
Having said that, there is certainly going to be a light at the end of this scary tunnel. And, I shall write better blogs when I see that light. I shall write better blogs with… my words. Till then, I am going to continue borrowing words.