Mayritual

“Mr X, You are so lucky. You had that miserable childhood, so you got something to write about. What are we going to write about?” I tend to recall this exchange between a Pulitzer-winning author and his student that figured in a recent issue of Readers’ Digest.

All good writings are probably a result of great disturbances at personal level or beyond. May be that’s why new age authors fail to attract like their old counterparts. Chetan Bhagat takes the help of so many slangs to convey the meaning which can otherwise be written in plain English and can also cater to a larger landscape. Celebrity writers a la Sobha De, baring a few, seem to be a bunch of jokers. I sometimes doubt how many people really perceive the Midnight’s Sallu bhai (read Salman Rushdie)!!

Having said this, I too respect the clan for being able to create a literary hellscape amidst all the luxury. I love to write when something haunts me deeply. I sit back and reflect upon. The objective is to get some solace at a personal level. They never give an impression of attracting a publisher!!

See, I have done hardly anything of this nature in the last couple of months. Don’t know how the last six months passed. Soil, salt, water, ship, wheeler and tear... all an after-effect of a knotty affair on 21st May 2010.

Earlier, I used to poke fun when I would meet any of my close buddies after a long gap. I used to tell them to “write a letter to some friend explaining how was the experience…ten marks,” drawing a symbolic reference to the most common assignment in school days after summer break.

And now I would like to keep them all close to my heart. Posting pictures does not cheer me anymore.