Writing alone I seldom stay lonely for long
People keep on joining caravan keeps on moving
Whenever I have to write
I know I have to get alone
maneuvering my boat I reach
a place where I’ll be on my own
Once sure there’s no one
To attract or distract me
It’s time to get naked
And take a dive
As I have to explore myself
Very deep and very wide
reaching the depths
the ambiance feels alien
Silence deafening
A perfect recipe for loneliness
But I know I won’t remain lonely for long
For its just a matter of time
When they will come
I just have to maintain my nakedness
Immersed in the stillness of time
Have to keep my eyes open
Not to see but to know
My ears open
Not to hear but listen
My tongue flickering
Not to taste but savor
My nostrils flaring
Not for breath but inspiration
My skin receptive
Not to superficial touch
But deeper sensation
Fingers intertwined in anxiety
Wavering eyes long for familiarity
Soon my gaze gets fixated
On something distant
Closing on me – for me
And here they come
Riding a musical procession
Here comes my memories
Playing trumpet of my successes
Along with the violin of failures
Drums are beating on my bad deeds
As my goodies play a soothing background score
From far very far
I hear a bagpiper play
Telling me something
Which I never knew but was always there
Now comes my imagination
Which looks hazy veiled
I know it has no face
As it has to happen in real
Before I call it a curse or grace
Memories play tunes the way I had originally played
But imagination is my orchestra to be played the way I want I to play
And have to be very watchful
For if I lose the baton
My orchestra of imagination
Will get into a disarray
And play tunes to scare
I take notes from each tune
And make a melody of my own
I sit down with them
And take from them
Whatever they offer
Thorns and roses
Everyone is hugged
Because I know only if I hug my memories they will come back with a gay
And if I resist them
They will never let me make my hay
My companions wait to see me goodbye
And off I spiral back to my boat
Feeling lighter in body
But full in words
Back to the boat
I sit soaked in the sun
To vaporize any memories
I may have left unturned
now I plan to dive again
And use intellect in the game
Carefully I’ll dissect
My beliefs and whatever the world has said
Because I have learned
Fact and truth are not the same
And even my truth and yours may not be the same
If one feels lonely while writing that means he is in bad company. And this is one companion who is here to stay. You can avoid it, suppress it under intoxicants and entertainment, denigrate it but it will never leave.
And it is also the one who will definitely be with you in the end.
So at least during writing take out your mask and play. Make love, fight, engage in any way you think it’s possible. You have seen some creation through the outward eyes. Time to turn your vision inward and see through the source of creation. Once with creativity, you are never alone.
Did I give you any answers to not feel lonely while writing? probably none. But maybe I made you notice your inseparable friend.
Anything leading us to truth should be embraced. Writing using our intellect enriched in emotions is one way.
Do I want the world to notice my writing? why not? In a world concealed under layers of delusion, nakedness stands out.
Do I want me to notice myself, listen to it, brawl with it? definitely yes.
And what better than to do it on a piece of paper.
