My mamma says that as I kid, I was hyperactive and mischievous. Throwing keys out of the window to running water on cushions, I would make my mamma’s day a rollercoaster ride which she, on many days, hoped she didn’t have to hop onto! But she loved me and knew she had to keep her tiny monster at bay. After a number of failed attempts, she and Baba, finally found the key to their problem – a pen and a paper! That’s it. All it took to calm me down was a pen and a paper – I would lie on my little tummy and scrawl over suns and moons and mountains and oceans and a hurricane of illegible words around them and be at it for hours together. I would slip into a world that I was fascinated with.
I suppose the written word never left me.
So, I write whenever I feel like it; I write whenever I don’t feel like it. Akin to breath, it does its job and keeps running even when I consciously don’t go over its nuances. May be that’s why, I dared to think I can write a story. May be that’s why, I dared to imagine my words to be worth someone’s time. May be that’s why, I dared to bare my heart on issues that matter to me. May that’s why, I dared to begin working on my first novel.
Like a first-time mom, I am very apprehensive of the process and hence, keep the journey guarded. But every now and then, I pen down my thoughts – consider them on the lines of milestones, research findings, dilemmas, pauses, and things in between. Find them here if they kindle your interest.
And when the novel is done one day (which I hope it does!), I shall share it with you, for you to write your piece over it.