To Read Is to Write

to read

I met a girl who’d subjected herself to an impressive schedule. A fiction and a non-fiction every week, no matter what.

It seemed a vigorous routine. Like school homework. Do it, finish it, and move on to the next. Reading is learning yes, but to me it seemed like she forced herself to read, read, and read even more.

Which is not a wrong thing. Except it felt so wrong that someone who’d read so much wouldn’t want as much to do with writing. She had an aversion to writing, and I couldn’t understand that.

When I first got bored with my school routine, I took to reading. I wasn’t as aggressive as I’d like to claim, but I read a lot.

And I realised I loved reading. From Enid Blyton, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, and Sherlock Holmes to Harry Potter, and Narnia, it was a crescendo of curiosity. And I believe that was a good thing.

I used to sit under a not-so-bright lamp, all night, peering at the fine print. It was fascination beyond anything I had felt. I loved the way reading made me feel. I longed for the lure of the sentences, the way a story moved from one word to another, how every letter and every comma only enriched the narrative, and how every single dash or stroke on paper added so much value.

I loved absorbing more than the story — the size of the print, the blackness of it, and the tiny strokes that sharpened every curve. I began to see the beauty in a full stop, the potential in ellipsis, the continuity in a comma, and the definite uncertainty in a question mark.

And that’s when I understood I want to write like that.

I had, for years, admired the way writers played with words, the way Shakespeare shattered grammar rules and yet made it sound so right. And I wanted to do the same, in such a way so as to make another young reader stare swell in love with words — just as I had.

And that’s why I never comprehend when someone says they love reading, but can’t write. What do they see while reading, I wonder?

Flying Menace

I feel “holey.”

Bloody mosquitoes.

The Best Advice

Here’s the thing about advice: it’s best recieved from an inanimate object. I meant a book. Because the worst you can do to a book is rip it to pieces, and what it says isn’t going to change. It’s much better than taking advice from friends or family where at the end of the day, the relationship might be hanging on a noose.

Anyway, books — they have the best advice. A few quotes always help me so much on a bad day. Here are a few of my favourite quotes.

“First sign of madness, talking to your own head,”

~Harry Potter

I talk to myself a lot. Random ramblings to conversation replays — it all happens in my head. And I smile each time I think about that line. Sheer madness!

“Keep in mind that many people have died for their beliefs; it’s actually quite common. The real courage is in living and suffering for what you believe.”

~ Christopher Paolini, Eragon

Dare to believe in what is worth believing and worth dying for — a great advice. This book surprised me, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Pity the others in the series weren’t as interesting.

“We’re fighting.”

~Harry Potter

If an imaginary character can fight for something he believes in, why can’t I? Motivation in its purest form. Someone says something like that to me when I’m distressed, I’d probably punch them — but it’s just a quote, so it’s fine.

“Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives, but none about his or her own.”

~Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

This is where I fell for Paulo Coelho’s writing. Raw truth, not to mention bitter. I know this feeling only too well — when I wish people would stop telling me what to do and leave me alone. Been there?

“I am not worried…I am with you.”

~Harry Potter

An incredible teacher — student conversation in a life threatening situation! How would it be if teachers trust students with their lives? What would students do? Endless possibilities; endless entertainment.

“Truth doesn’t have to be liked. It only has to be spoken. Speak it out. The truth may hurt you, but it will set you free.”

~ Amish Tripathi, The Secret of the Nagas

Well, Amish has said it all, and I have nothing better to add.

Any thoughts? You know what they say, “Spit it out!”

National Blog Posting Month – #Day8

Oh, Fandoms!

I love Pinterest. Because it fuels my multiple fandom needs. Facebook – well, not so much. Because that takes it all a little too far.

What is with fandoms that makes the hair in my neck stand erect, in utmost attention? And what is that feeling that leaves my spine tingling? Even I know it’s not that cold where I live. It’s the feeling of being satisfied by an image, a quote, a photo or a simple not-so-exact reference to a popular fandom.

I love BBC’s Sherlock. And the Backstreet Boys, Westlife, Harry Potter, Friends, The Big Bang Theory – the list goes on.

When I see a photo of Benedict Cumberbatch on a Facebook page I’ve liked, it makes me smile. It reminds me of Sherlock’s wit and Benedict’s acting. But I’d like to leave it that way. Simple.

Nowadays though, all I see are posts of Benedict’s photos with captions of how handsome he is, describing him as a cutie-pie, or a cherry blossom – or whatever crap.

And that’s annoying.

Admins of these pages use my interest in the show to manipulate me into ‘liking’ posts and even believing stuff my sane-self knows to be bull shit.

Something similar happened with the BSB – troll posts and all other fake people posting from their name – social networks became painful. It’s like they have to do whatever it takes to entertain their fans – even if it means stripping themselves naked. It all feels wrong and immature – perhaps it’s just me – but I don’t want to spend my day staring at old photos of the BSB, following them to recordings, sharing a vehicle, selfies or meals. That doesn’t mean I don’t like the BSB but I’d rather sit home enjoying some of their greatest music.

Using the natural affection for someone, or something seems to me like a cheap way of earning bucks. It’s like porn – the more you see this stuff, the more addicted you get and the higher the chances you participate in that fandom. Isn’t that the lowest level of insult possible?

I respect my fandoms enough to know where to draw the line.

National Blog Posting Month – #Day4

The Partition, and What it Means to an Unconcerned Indian

It’s time to grieve.

Because it looks like the Great Britain I’ve known since forever and have adored, will stop being.

I know nothing of English politics. Or the politics of Scotland. Hell, I don’t even know the politics of the country I call home. (That, I don’t care for much)

It won’t affect me in any way, but I will grieve if Great Britain breaks.

Ever since I remember, Great Britain has been a huge part of India. Whatever India is today, is partly everything the British gave us. From food, to railroads, to pants and shirts — everything that the modern Indian society takes for granted, is borrowed from the British. Oh and the Literature!

It’s so deeply etched in Indian history that it pains to think that the name that made us, will be no more. Over the years, I’ve come to look at Great Britain as the forerunner of what we are today.

Yes, we hate the British for insulting Mother India, for using our men for cheap labor, and all other crap Indians say on Independence day. But, the image of Great Britain is still something I look up to.

Jokes of the partition, saying who’d get Hogwarts after the partition, are far from funny – even for a HP fan. Come to think of it, I’ve always imagined the Big Ben as the icon of Britain, and I’m guilty of overlooking the 2 other countries that completed the name.

The Scots want their country identified, to step away from the shadow they’ve been in for 300 years. They have every right to vote for — I’m even a little surprised it didn’t happen sooner. They’ll face a lot of challenges as a separate country, and that’s only natural. But in time, Scotland will be a stable country, and I wish them well.

But that doesn’t mean I am not disappointed. The British name has affected more than Scotland. Soon a lot of Wikipedia articles will be altered, and starting there, we’ll see less and less of Great Britain and Britishness.

It’s no easy partition. Psychologically.

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