A nervous hi, takes a seat...
"My origins...from India, so I guess ..." jumps up in alarm as Robyn Engel from Life By Chocolate, present here on persistent pleading butts in.
"Rek, Rek...%&#$@" does a face-palm, accuses me " You hoodwinked us all this time!! Took you to be a smart, witty woman who knows her ifs and buts..."
I , as usual, burst into tears melting her kind heart. She pats my head (in a petting way) " Come now, here, have a chocolate."
Pouting "Hello, trying to lose weight here."
She mutters" More like losing steam and our audience."
"Alex! Tbone!" she hollers, literally yanking them off their chairs...giving them a 'don't mess with me' look
"Be my guest!" and thunders her way out.
I whimper, still licking a dark bit, "Robyn, Wait!"
Tbone clears his throat, "Look Lady, We don't have all day...220 odd others waiting, so cut the crap!"
In a stronger, cocoa dipped voice, "Written essays and poems in school and college and such...read books too. Summer vacations meant my cousins would hide away their books lest I spent less time with them."
Alex looks at Tbone, a telepathic exchange, 'Next time, our Blogfest is by invitation only!' and emphatic nods.
"My 8th grade(13yrs) English teacher liked my story, especially about a ranch horse...it reminded her of Black beauty...she loved my first line for another one, the one which went,"Under the star lit sky, with only the full moon for company, here I lie in a corner, a street dog."
Looks around for applause, none...stammers on, "But never aspired to be a writer, a published one at that."
Alex ""Finally!" Tbone "No grovelling for sympathy!"
"Ok." "Written on and off for two decades now, till I joined Twitter in 2009 after my ... hmm...still a very bad word here 'D'. Met two cool bloggers (now friends) T.S Hendrik and Aditya, followed their blogs for a year before taking the plunge."
'"Joined some creative blog groups for poets and flash fiction writers, their encouragement helped as did that of my first few followers...then gave into my ambitious, pestering brother's advice and took up writing full time in 2010.""Ok." "Written on and off for two decades now, till I joined Twitter in 2009 after my ... hmm...still a very bad word here 'D'. Met two cool bloggers (now friends) T.S Hendrik and Aditya, followed their blogs for a year before taking the plunge."
'"Joined some creative blog groups for poets and flash fiction writers, their encouragement helped as did that of my first few followers...then gave into my ambitious, pestering brother's advice and took up writing full time in 2010."
"Moving out of Mumbai meant I couldn't even get a part-time accountant's job since I never managed to crack my C.A (C.P.A equivalent) final exams. I lick my wounds with the hard fact that in the 90s only 3% of 15,000 students got that elusive title every year, maybe because of fewer job openings then... sigh...but on the flip side, I have a lot of time to read, write, research, submit and get rejected, photograph, fabric paint, mess around with different software applications and blog now."
Alex softly "Lets get back to writing."
"Did I mention I got a commerce degree just because Arts is not a cool career option for the great Indian Middle Class! To cut the long story short...finally found the courage to get around doing what I love and what I think is one of the few things I am good at. So, if my books get printed or not, sell or not....I am and will be an Artist/Writer!!"
Alternate version
There was a little girl who was a bit different, impulsive, hot tempered, rebellious dreaming false worlds when she should have been studying some more. The daydreams grew larger, more verbose and sometimes silly. As the space between the grey cells shrunk, she took to writing on pieces of paper... some saved, some frittered away carelessly...she never showed them to anyone lest she be mocked at by the uncaring. Then it happened, the stuff that her fears were made of. Unlike other kindred spirits, the more she read others, the less pieces of her own got written till a day when the dreams knew better and took flight to the nether regions of her mind, a self imposed exile.
Time flew, walked, crawled, the dreams peeked out now and then and verses took shape that were protected fiercely for years and yet the best ones cast one day into the fire of battered self esteem (especially the ones dedicated to her fiancé-husband who broke her spirit)....and then after years of grey bleakness, the tumultuous life led her back to the road she had long ago abandoned, the only one left she could travel through, to save her sanity. The journey was risky, shaky, encouraged by loved ones who had secretly read her amateur works...she trots along enjoying the passing scenery.
And lo behold,
The Twin, The Muse Ran Away....
leaving behind a sci fi that is just about a quarter complete, a fantasy barely written, a poetry collection due for e publishing in March with quite a few missing pages, short stories to be drafted and rewritten from scratch.
She filled a complaint with the "Missing Muses Retrieval" writers club in December but yet to hear from them.
Anyone who sees 'Reka Sang' slouching around in the upper decks of cyber space, do cajole her to come back please...as said she is moody and cantankerous, gets offended easily. Will this be enough praise to melt her heart??
This is how the Muse looked when they last met....maybe the lady should check Facebook, for sure she is whiling away time with those mindless games or the news rooms where she is flirting with the big boys.
The strain of these online searches and researching in her absence simply translates into nothing written in the last 3 months.
Wrtiten for a blogfest
"My origins...from India, so I guess ..." jumps up in alarm as Robyn Engel from Life By Chocolate, present here on persistent pleading butts in.
"Rek, Rek...%&#$@" does a face-palm, accuses me " You hoodwinked us all this time!! Took you to be a smart, witty woman who knows her ifs and buts..."
I , as usual, burst into tears melting her kind heart. She pats my head (in a petting way) " Come now, here, have a chocolate."
Pouting "Hello, trying to lose weight here."
She mutters" More like losing steam and our audience."
"Alex! Tbone!" she hollers, literally yanking them off their chairs...giving them a 'don't mess with me' look
"Be my guest!" and thunders her way out.
I whimper, still licking a dark bit, "Robyn, Wait!"
Tbone clears his throat, "Look Lady, We don't have all day...220 odd others waiting, so cut the crap!"
In a stronger, cocoa dipped voice, "Written essays and poems in school and college and such...read books too. Summer vacations meant my cousins would hide away their books lest I spent less time with them."
Alex looks at Tbone, a telepathic exchange, 'Next time, our Blogfest is by invitation only!' and emphatic nods.
"My 8th grade(13yrs) English teacher liked my story, especially about a ranch horse...it reminded her of Black beauty...she loved my first line for another one, the one which went,"Under the star lit sky, with only the full moon for company, here I lie in a corner, a street dog."
Looks around for applause, none...stammers on, "But never aspired to be a writer, a published one at that."
Alex ""Finally!" Tbone "No grovelling for sympathy!"
"Ok." "Written on and off for two decades now, till I joined Twitter in 2009 after my ... hmm...still a very bad word here 'D'. Met two cool bloggers (now friends) T.S Hendrik and Aditya, followed their blogs for a year before taking the plunge."
'"Joined some creative blog groups for poets and flash fiction writers, their encouragement helped as did that of my first few followers...then gave into my ambitious, pestering brother's advice and took up writing full time in 2010.""Ok." "Written on and off for two decades now, till I joined Twitter in 2009 after my ... hmm...still a very bad word here 'D'. Met two cool bloggers (now friends) T.S Hendrik and Aditya, followed their blogs for a year before taking the plunge."
'"Joined some creative blog groups for poets and flash fiction writers, their encouragement helped as did that of my first few followers...then gave into my ambitious, pestering brother's advice and took up writing full time in 2010."
"Moving out of Mumbai meant I couldn't even get a part-time accountant's job since I never managed to crack my C.A (C.P.A equivalent) final exams. I lick my wounds with the hard fact that in the 90s only 3% of 15,000 students got that elusive title every year, maybe because of fewer job openings then... sigh...but on the flip side, I have a lot of time to read, write, research, submit and get rejected, photograph, fabric paint, mess around with different software applications and blog now."
Alex softly "Lets get back to writing."
"Did I mention I got a commerce degree just because Arts is not a cool career option for the great Indian Middle Class! To cut the long story short...finally found the courage to get around doing what I love and what I think is one of the few things I am good at. So, if my books get printed or not, sell or not....I am and will be an Artist/Writer!!"
Alternate version
There was a little girl who was a bit different, impulsive, hot tempered, rebellious dreaming false worlds when she should have been studying some more. The daydreams grew larger, more verbose and sometimes silly. As the space between the grey cells shrunk, she took to writing on pieces of paper... some saved, some frittered away carelessly...she never showed them to anyone lest she be mocked at by the uncaring. Then it happened, the stuff that her fears were made of. Unlike other kindred spirits, the more she read others, the less pieces of her own got written till a day when the dreams knew better and took flight to the nether regions of her mind, a self imposed exile.
Time flew, walked, crawled, the dreams peeked out now and then and verses took shape that were protected fiercely for years and yet the best ones cast one day into the fire of battered self esteem (especially the ones dedicated to her fiancé-husband who broke her spirit)....and then after years of grey bleakness, the tumultuous life led her back to the road she had long ago abandoned, the only one left she could travel through, to save her sanity. The journey was risky, shaky, encouraged by loved ones who had secretly read her amateur works...she trots along enjoying the passing scenery.
And lo behold,
The Twin, The Muse Ran Away....
leaving behind a sci fi that is just about a quarter complete, a fantasy barely written, a poetry collection due for e publishing in March with quite a few missing pages, short stories to be drafted and rewritten from scratch.
She filled a complaint with the "Missing Muses Retrieval" writers club in December but yet to hear from them.
Anyone who sees 'Reka Sang' slouching around in the upper decks of cyber space, do cajole her to come back please...as said she is moody and cantankerous, gets offended easily. Will this be enough praise to melt her heart??
Penned bold thoughts /
Heart never speaks of /
Love this muse //
3-5-3
The strain of these online searches and researching in her absence simply translates into nothing written in the last 3 months.
Wrtiten for a blogfest
No comments:
Post a Comment
Glad you made it this far...would love to hear your take on the words scribbled. A comment every now and then keeps the blues away. :D
Since, crazy Mr. Blogspot won't let me reply to the comments here (is upset with the water ladies ever since they refused to verify visitors)...will do the next best thing, drop in to your blog to say my Vanakkam/Namaste/Salaam/Hello.