Five months. It’s been five months since I’ve last written anything. I’d thought to take a break for a few weeks, unknowingly those weeks multiplied and eventually become months. Five months, did I mention that? Time has flown this year and in the intervening time between, I am relieved (or sadly, or happily? I know not) to say nothing of great import has happened. As I’m typing this, two things are happening simultaneously, one, that this blank screen in front of me is waiting to be filled. And the latter, so many thoughts are trying to fight their way to the forefront of my brain that it’s all bottlenecked, leaving me with nothing to say in the end. Like so much paper soaked in water, I find that that is the state of my mind right now.
At times I envy those whose words and prose flow from their fingers, onto the keyboard (or through inked tips, if you’re the archaic type) and arrange themselves into intricately woven tapestries depicting epic battles and equally stunning ballads.
I take a deep breath at this juncture and remind myself to cut back on the melodramatic descriptions.
How does one come about writing an introduction, or an opener to a story? Plunge in straight into an action scene? Slowly describe a scene and/or introduce a backstory? I am suddenly struck with the thought of clouds. Yes, clouds. (No points for realizing by now that this monologue of mine is not a build-up to anything in particular.) I’m sure growing up, you’ve read about clouds and their different formations but how many different kinds are there exactly? A quick google search reveals quite a bit. I want you to picture clouds in your mind right now, chances are (and I am a self-professed mind reader) you’re imagining large, fluffy balls that look not too unlike balls of cotton. Yes? Those are Cumulus clouds, I learnt that online just. The big brother version is called a Cumulonimbus cloud and it can extend upwards for miles, closely resembling a giant pile of candyfloss. Given the right conditions, these clouds can form ‘supercells’, a precursor to tornados.
Now I start wondering about the different categories of tornadoes. Which is deadlier, that or a cyclone, or a hurricane? Anyway I realize by now that I have gone off tangent to the issue at hand.
But I am pleasantly surprised to see words, like a colony of little ants, filling up the page. Is it at this point that the reader has immersed him/herself in this small bubble of fiction? Have I made sufficient small-talk to draw the reader into my world, seeing through my eyes and thinking with my mind? Which I must admit, is a tad bit taken with flights of occasional fancies, such as ants. A hard-working bunch, never one to complain at their daily, mundane, break-breaking chores. Actually, I wonder, do ants have free-will? Do they think and react to obstacles or is that just pre-programmed actions honed and perfected over the centuries. In fact, do we humans even have free-will? What exactly is ‘free-will’? Surely reacting in a fit of rage to the fact that our favourite ice-cream has been sold out is an involuntary action derived from our behaviour. Have you ever had moments of ‘I didn’t mean to say/do that, it was an accident’? (Of course you’ve had, who are we kidding here?) Is that free-will or remnants of our hereditary instincts rearing its head in a show of ‘hi, I’m still here’. I realize the more I go down this none-too-clear slope, the less I’m starting to make sense.
I shall stop here.
