rashmi-vasudeva.com

I had long stopped doing this. Pouring scalding hot thoughts, illusions, falsities and some truths-in-between into the sour-smelling vat of last year’s diary to which I gave childish names. And into papyrus-fresh organizers and smooth ‘Vidya’ notebooks and bits and scraps of ‘computer paper’ that Appa would collect and keep in stacks and five-year-old horrendous tomes with their own smug locks and once, even on an Indian Express ad that boasted of white-spaced creativity.
Why am I doing it again? There is something about putting what you think, and what you don’t think in black and white. It no longer is an ‘ehsaas’ it is set in concrete and perhaps loses its soul. And perhaps gains life. This is, if you think about it, not such a bad thing. After all, despite locks and admonishing to everybody at home not to go near your vats, it will burn a loved one’s fingers sometime. And it will sear your poor soul when it does that. You are there, and you are not there amidst those pages. Did I really think those thoughts, you think many moons later. You shrink from yourself; you disrobe inch by inch of your very innards and rub it dry until you are all sore and bleeding. And you know some of those flamed charcoal wisps that are rising from that vat are not you. They are those that were left inside you by wicked Mephistopheles.
Well I know I should stop here as I am no longer making any sense, even to Meph darling. Ah. Why have I started doing this again? Because online, unlike in the darkness of that vat, there is sunshine. There is no loneliness, there is no Beethoven to listen to in the background while the Reynold weeps, slanted leftwise (brooding the mind sniggers; introvertedness according to handwriting experts) ; there is only the happy-not-so-lucky me, there are ants that crawl over a pristine white space at the rate of 45 per minute (my typing speed) and there is the whole spidery world that has its fingers spread out, there are no locks and no admonishing  to stay away. Here the fingers are spread far and wide – unwary of getting fire-licked.

Leave a Reply