Paper and pen- they are my most precious possessions.
There is that moment of perception- that moment when the mind brims with this perception, unable to contain it. There is excitement and there is restlessness. There is the urgency to deliver the perception…
That moment when a thought is first conceived in the mind.
As the mind carries it, there is a certain anxiety. Will the thought deliver itself? What form will it take? Will it be beautiful?
There are times when it aborts. I put pen to paper, struggle for words, strike off lines in discontentment, and eventually give up.
And then there are times when there is the joy of effortless writing. There is no groping for words, there are no pauses. It is a river flowing- effortlessly. On such occasions, the pen struggles for it has to keep pace with the flow of thoughts.
The paper that I write on is like a temple to me. As I put pen to paper, it is like lighting a lamp, with a prayer in my heart. Sometimes, the Goddess condescends and takes abode in my mind transiently, and I experience the joy of creation. At other times, she chooses to remain distant, and I end up writing something that fails to give me any joy at all.
After all, creation can never be a ‘consciously devised arrangement’.
The journey of a thought, from the time we have conceived it, is very much like a pregnancy. There is excitement, restlessness, happiness, turbulence, anxiety, impatience and every emotion that characterizes pregnancy. There are also desperate moments wherein one is unable to cope with the state it evokes, longing to break free from this state.
Art is like one’s baby; we give birth to it. While we contain it within ourselves, there is the profound awareness of something beautiful within, but we are unaware of what physical form it shall take. Until the time we deliver it, we do not know what we contain.
The writer’s journey is also one of slow maturity. A writer matures as writing illuminates for him dark pockets of his unconscious that he knew not existed within him. Through these revelations, a writer is able to access the Universal knowledge. His journey of writing takes him through those moments wherein the thin veil that separates him from the universe lifts momentarily, revealing facets of life that are not evident in the routine course of his life. He learns to bring to visibility the invisible interconnections that bind him to the universe, making him part of a greater whole. And thus, the horizons of his writing expand as he learns to see life and the world from this pedestal. A writer thus transcends his own barriers. He liberates himself from the entrapment of conditioning and imbibes the wisdom that the universe instills in him.
Quoting writer Kamala Das :
One’s real world is not what is outside him. It is the immeasurable world inside him that is real. Only the one who has decided to travel inwards, will realize that his route has no end. Our ends, our real destinations, are our beginnings.