It is fine to want to write . Its great to be told you can write. wht is not very fine is having to write.. for often have i felt that writing is more like stripping off in front of strangers gawking at you. How much of the dirt deep within should be shown , what should be hidden, what's appropriate, wht's not , wht could land u in to a divorce, derangement, cannot be said. What can be said is that it could make you a little lighter in your head.. know matter what? A learned man , a contemporary poet in regional language, a thinker , rated high on his advisability said ominously rolling his wonderful eyes : unless u know what is contemporary literature, what's being written about and how , you should not write. Probably implying the need to be well-read. Well, came as a shock to me.. i had thought one writes what one wants to write, not what others write or wht others wanted to read. I had asked somebody years ago the same question, the reply was, write for yourself , as if there's no one to read. He even gifted me a book about an author's experience in total isolation. Frankly, my attempts to write have not been many. Though a vocal expression of the same is my constant , now ,almost a little cliched confession to any0ne who lends me his ears for a longer time than common pleasantries permit.What keeps from blurting out what comes to my head? Perhaps the fear of being labeled indecent. Imagine being a character assasination by for example ur mil coz u wrote .. something.. u know what. Perhaps its that taste of failure when kamla das promptly returned all my creative exploits with a polite regret of being unable to include in her magazine. Perhaps its just cowardice, plain laziness, pure diffidence, or the extraordinary insight into wht could be the outcome.
Well! after some serious discussion on the matter , and many pieces of advice later, i am here opening a slight wedge into my own dirty mind. Wht unfolds..time will tell.
urs lekha
