The disheartening phenomenon has rendered me defenseless once again. Only, this time it has not paralyzed my eloquence. I am writing these lines because I am allowed to, because words have not forsaken me. Not yet, at least. Therefore I am taking the liberty of describing the sudden invasion.
Nonetheless, I am quite unsure about what final shape this monograph will take. Would it, once finished, qualify to be called a treatise on my suffering? Or would it simply turn out to be an insipid essay, which will demonstrate the depth of my helplessness? I am, as yet, unsure.
I do greatly value the time and intelligence of my readers. I am morally obligated not to waste the former, nor to tax the latter beyond reasonable limits. And yet, at times such as now - fallen prey to a disease that numbs the mind - I fear that I have committed the crime and driven my readers away. It is precisely this strange feeling, which usually consumes me enough to keep me from picking up a pen or pecking at the keyboard.
A peculiar sensation – as if everything worth writing about has already been written about, and as if writing any more would make no sense – creeps in from somewhere and overwhelms the mind. It usually attacks without forewarning, and there is no telling as to how long it rules.
It invades such powers of the mind as perception, thought, scrutiny, and reasoning. All of a sudden, nothing seems to matter. Creativity seems to have gone out the back door. Ideas do not appeal; analysis evaporates into thin air. A cruel void, an eerie silence - very different from the pregnant silence that results from meditation - remains.
Sometimes I come to hope that a short walk in the midst of nature would help. But then I recall that some of us have made every effort to corrupt nature with the concrete jungle, the exhaust fumes, the plastic roses, the contamination, and the incessant din. We have replaced the beauty of nature with all our filth. A short walk amidst those could only make matters worse; it might even be fatal!
If I ever bring myself to publish this article on my blog, it would be to record this disgusting affliction, for which I have not yet found an effective therapy, short of endurance. It would also be to record evidence to the fact that I did not go down without a fight.
And at this point, words do fail me. But I tried.
I tried.
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9 comments:
**I do greatly value the time and intelligence of my readers. I am morally obligated not to waste the former, nor to tax the latter beyond reasonable limits.
so wut r u trying to say Pradeep? That u wrote for us?
Keshi.
???? whats up?
Ash
Dearest Keshi
You might agree that the value of art is always in proportion to its expressiveness. Art means nothing if it cannot communicate the mind of the artist.
Wonder if dramatists or poets always compose for themself, and never mean to communicate with their audience.
I do write for my pleasure, as well. But think about it: If I wrote ONLY for my private pleasure, why should I post my articles and poems up here?
Those who have followed my work from the very beginning (which is a long period of time even before I started this blog) will agree that I don't write to exhibit my literary or other talents, which are not too great to speak about anyway. They will bear witness to the fact that I write with an intention to share my learnings with an audience. I write in order to share knowledge, to discuss, to agree/disagree, and to obtain critiques on my work.
For me, writing for a thoughtful audience and soliciting their objectivity is a much greater learning process than reading is.
And then of course, the very pleasure of writing is always there.
Cheers! :)
Dear Ash,
Heyyyy whare have you been? Long time no see! How are you?
**whats up?
Strange as it may sound, I have been wondering, myself.
Cheers!
Dear pradeep
The situation that you're in is a very complex one. Dealing with these group of bigots may carry alot of unwanted consequences. Hence, it's best if you learn to accept the fact that realities, at times are hard upon us. I know.I've been through it. Even teachers, who are supposed to guide us through the "right" trajectory back in those days in school often embark a very satiral remark which goes "His exuberant enthuasism often borders on exhibitionism".
Have a nice day, mate
ok I agree...but r u implying ur dissatisfied with some readers?
Keshi.
I haven't time to read this thoughtful post (late for work!), so I will read it later tonight. I saw on Keshi's blog that you had a birthday this week! Happy Belated Birthday!!!
How r u?
U seem "not-satisfied" with certain things... U okay?? i know its a silly question
Take care!!!
:)
Hey Pradeep,
Ya post leave me speechless. Love ya expression. The way you express and brings out the post with the formation of words oh so somewhat arousing to the soul..hahaha..I hope that does not sound weird..:P
i am not sure if i am feeling right about ya post. but i guess there are down seasons and up season in the bloggin world. sometimes people just come right up to ya blog in flocks and sometimes people just go missing. the true key maybe is writing from the outflow of the heart. and seeing postiveness instead of negativeness. Negativeness steals ya potential to write and draw hearts. and the thing about ya is pradeep. you are an outstanding writer with the bombastic words and wonderful expressions.
U can write!! and thats an awesome thing tat u should smile about. and u still have people greeting ya by dropping by. that should be a wonderful encouragment when they speak their hearts.
HOpe i am feeling ya right.
and pradeep,
*hugs*
You will blossom in time to come. Don't be too hard on yaself and don't let the number of visitors or commentators speak the value of ya write ups. i know its tempting. cause i have some how walked on paths. but we all learn from picking ourselves up.
CHEERS!
Good weekend!
Dear Navin,
One who does not inspire you to learn cannot be called a teacher.
Thank you. :)
Dear Keshi,
I am more disappointed with myself.
Dear Ashley,
Thank you. Best wishes to you, too. :)
Dear Eclipsed,
I guess an artist is never satisfied until he/she gets her message across to the audience.
Amyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! :)
Hugggggggzzzz...
No, it does not sound weird. In fact, I'm glad if my post aroused something in you. ;)
**"U can write!! and thats an awesome thing tat u should smile about."
That is hardly a reason to smile, my dear! Being an "outstanding writer with bombastic words" is of little or no use unless the work is able to clearly communicate the author's mind to the readers and critics.
I write not to show off my literary talents, but because I want to convey some message. While I am glad that some readers appreciate my posts for the language and the expressiveness, I would be truly happy only when they actually carried home the message that my posts try to convey.
I would not make the mistake of considering myself a successful writer unless I have communicated effectively; and I shall be disappointed with myself until that happens.
Cheers!
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