Defining a writer

Do you consider yourself a writer? Do you think blogging is “real writing?” What does it take to be a “real writer”?


Those who know me think of me as a teacher. Thats what I have been doing for the past 17 years. Along with teaching, I sometimes double up as a counsellor too. I suppose that is part and parcel of the teaching profession.

As I said before, I came to writing fairly late. That does not bother me. I am loving every moment of my creativity. However, only a few in my family know that I write. Friends, no! My poetic efforts go unnoticed by them. Does that mean I am not a writer? No, I don't think it that way. I think of myself as a poet first and then anything else. Ok, I have not yet published my work. I write and post mostly online. And I do consider it real writing. Feedback/critiques from blogger friends helps me in striving for better. Blogging world has produced and still producing many good writers. It gives us instant feedback and we save on time. We don't have to run around asking for it.

Next, a writer mostly looks at things in different ways. Thats what I do. My imagination takes me into many different directions. A real writer should be able to observe and imbibe and reproduce it in an entirely different way. That is what I try to do. I might not earn millions out of my writing. But so what? I am writing. That is important for me. In a way, it has opened up a whole new avenue for me. The entire world is open for me now. After 1000+ blog posts on both my blogs, I do consider myself a real writer. I write poetry, essays, short stories, book reviews and working on a novel. Next step is to publish my work.

Time slowly passes by
unnoticed I go on
wishing millions would flock

What are your thoughts on being a "real writer"? Do you agree or disagree?

yellowed piece of paper

This I wrote for my mom. A very rough draft.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
yellowed and tattered
that piece of paper holds her heart
not a single days passes
without her taking it out
almost devouring it
her name, only a few words in the middle
and his signed name at the end
she knows the words
yet can't resist taking it out every morning
dull purple behind her eyes
can't take away the love only she can see
her first and last love letter from him
he never wrote another
in the forty five years they spent together
they never even said they loved each other

transcending time and space,
love can be never be a folly
he is gone but lives forever for her

Liberate yourself

Photo Credits: Rick Mobbs


To be free. What does it mean to you? How do you look at it? What is true freedom? I know I am asking the same question in different ways. And I am not here to preach either. Many a times, I simply talk to myself and this is one of those times. You can safely skip this.

For me, to be free means to think about the world. To think and do beyond oneself. To reflect and ponder over things and approach or tackle anything in the best way possible. It is about being unselfish. In today's context, it seems impossible. Majority of us are indeed wrapped up in our own world to look beyond it. True freedom for me means to break that shackle and come out of it. For me, God is not important, religion is not important. However, spirituality is. Humanity is. I do not even believe that you must love your neighbours. I truly believe that first you must love yourself. That too, unselfishly. Only then you are truly be free of everything. Self-love does not mean self-obssessed. It means to respect our own mind, body and soul. Many feel that it is our body, it is our life, we can do what we want. Is it? Should we? If we think this way, are we loving ourselves? I suppose, we all need to answer that question. We, only we, can truly answer that. We can hide away from the world but can we escape ourselves? At the end of the day, we have to face ourselves in the mirror.

Do I have to follow a faith or believe in God to perceive it this way? Answering for myself, I say no. As I see it, religion does more harm than good. Nothing can get worse than blind faith. Follow the goodness in your heart. Let your soul show you the path. You won't be needing anyone other than yourself to guide you. That is true freedom, ultimate liberation.

Creativity

How do you cultivate creativity in your life? Have you found the things that make you come alive? Are you doing them? Shouldn’t you be?

Many a times we just get on with our lives seeing a lot of things but not observing. We go on doing the routine stuff unmindful of the beauty surrounding us. What is creativity? I think it is looking at life differently from what is the norm. Discerning it in our own ways. A person can do the most mundane of things and still be creative about it. How do I perceive it, is what matters. I think of myself as a poet. And I try to get about that in a different way. For me, every day experiences help me. Cultivating it comes in from the simplest of things. I might hold a cup of tea and see much beyond the tea or the cup or the handle. That is true creativity for me. I do occasionally end up with temporary writer's block, which is more to do with emotions than words drying up. Somehow, when I do come back out of it, I get more creative.

We only need open our ears and eyes to feel the world come alive for us. Or it might make us come alive. Watching children playing is one good example. Or just watching people is another one. I like to sit on the sidewalks and observe the world pass by me. I conjure up stories about those who interest me. Many a times, I write those down in my mind. I am yet to take to write those down in reality. I have considered that. But my mind is faster than my fingers. So I drift from one thought to other while fingers still discern what is going on!

Yes, my outpourings are in the form of poetry. That is the best way I can deal with my creative thoughts, as of now. It is better for me if personal feelings are omitted out of it. So I keep it that way. One of these days, I might gamble it all for writing a novel, or maybe short stories, for a beginning. I am seriously considering it.

What is your take on it? How do you see it?

deeply in love with dracula’s daughter

I know it is not a ballad but it does have a story!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

strolling in the graveyard
with roses in my hand,
along with the fog rolling in
for her tryst with sin;
a banshee screams,
in my nightmarish dream.

deeply in love with dracula’s daughter

creatures of darkness
what music they make.
life in the night, most don't know;
lives in the shadows, which light throws.
terror runs deep where murkiness falls,
thirst never quenched from hunger’s call.

deeply in love with dracula's daughter

never could fathom
in my wildest dreams.
life has its own course, it now seems
it follows only its own whims.
I cannot but help whom I love;
I cannot help that she thrives on blood.

deeply in love with dracula’s daughter

unmindful of what others think,
I trudge along towards my queen,
our nuptials to be held on halloween.
I look forward to good times ahead
but vampires in love with her, are sad
as I would be calling dracula, dad.

deeply in love with dracula's daughter

the very thought of her
love-bites after twilight;
her scratching nails all through the night
her bloody kisses just before dawn,
her writhing body against my own,
just stop short of driving me wild.

deeply in love with dracula's daughter

weed it out-----half a poem

Photo Credits: Rick Mobbs

in the skeletons of my memories
only dry bones are left
yet I remember the putrid flesh
smell of death sits there
face to face with me
I howl rather loudly
as if my innards pour out

"is it not what dogs do?"

numbness setting within
how do I differentiate
between real from the illusion
I have lived too long
in a world of my own
cosseted and loved only by me
where I brushed aside the weeds

"I still get on with my howling."



It feels good to get back into poetry mode, although a dark one. Hopefully my world should right itself in no time. I suppose I am still a long way from finding myself. Maybe never.

Entertain me, will you?!

How do I entertain myself? What is relaxation for me? Where do I find solace? If I had to answer it in one word, I would say books and add another two words, more books. Or just plain reading. In a way, that is true but not in its entirity.

I like to listen to music. In my college days, I use to go to rock concerts. I was and still am a rock music fanatic. Louder the music, it affected my blood. Thats the way I preferred it. Lately I like jazz but I have not given up on rock music. Music has no boundaries. It can uplift you from anything. You just have to give in to it. I completely give in to it. I let it take over my mind and body.

I am not much of a movie person. But I do like action movies. The blood and gore kind. Those feel good mushy movies bore me to tears. I an only watch the endings and thats about it. I prefer war movies and world movies too.

In my school days I liked going to circus. It was pure entertainment. Nowadays, those are rare. You don't get to see any circus. I think I have not visited any for 20 odd years. Anything that makes me stress free, gives me pure pleasure, makes me behave childish is entertainment for me. Be it writing poery, chatting on the phone, blogging or any other modern way of interpreting it. People watching, walking around doing nothing too relax me.

Lately I have taken to visiting museums, art exhibitions and book readings. Signs of senility? I suppose so!