It has been exactly a month since I started this venture. I will be a writer too I thought. One month and I still haven’t typed a single word. I get flashes of ideas and then it just slips away. I know I have to write but I don’t know if I want to write. My friend suggested I keep a journal to jot down my thoughts as I get them. I don’t know how useful that is going to be. What’s the harm in trying though?
Same thing as yesterday…. Still no inspiration.
Same. Even the days are starting to look the same. Guess I’ve fallen into a very mundane routine and I like it.
Funny thing. I got the morning newspaper dated 6th March. Maybe I got the newspaper from the future. Haha, that would be hilarious. But sadly, it is just the newspaper that made a typo I guess. No one reads newspapers these days and that is showing in their quality.
Okay, now this is getting weird. The date on the newspaper is dated the 8th of March. I really got pissed off and went to a newspaper stand to get a different newspaper and I found they were all dated March 8. I asked around and people swear it is the eighth. Am I losing my mind here? I need to investigate it.
I am in constant fear that I will lose days if I sleep. I lay awake all night and waited impatiently for the morning newspaper and finally when I got it, the first thing I did was check the date. It is the 9th alright……… APRIL 9th!!!!! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME???? How in god’s name did I lose an entire month? Where did it all go? What did I do? Should I get help? What if people think I’m crazy? What if I am?
I don’t even know what the date is today. I’ve stopped checking the newspaper or venturing out. Anyone who did see me in one of those missing days say I did the same thing I do everyday. They called me a man with the routine. Then how come I don’t remember them? Am I stuck in a vicious cycle of doing the same things over and over everyday that I don’t even remember doing it?
April 14 (The newspaper said so)
I think it is high time I did something drastic. I am going to break this routine. I am going backpacking. I don’t know where I want to go and definitely no idea when I’ll return. I’ll be writing this journal though.
April 15 (Checked the newspaper)
I am writing this outside a small tea shop in the early morning on top of Ooty. Saravanan, the teas shop owner, had a compelling story to share with over this wonderful cup of tea I am having right now. Saravanan, is a film-buff. His knowledge on cinema and film-makers from all over the world is almost encyclopedic. He owns a library of DVDs, pirated ones of course, but Saravanan claims he could get only pirated copies and even they eat away a large chunk of his earnings every month so he had to limit himself to a few movies every month. Ask him about Akira Kurosawa and he loses himself in explaining every frame of his films, Kurosawa’s penchant for showing the emotions of his characters through the surroundings, his love for simple geometry shapes while placing his characters on screen and so on. Here in the remote hills of Ooty, inside a run-down hut, is one of the greatest admirer of cinema. Who would’ve thought that?
I didn’t lose the two days. I haven’t lost a day since I left my house. I wake up every day looking forward to meeting new people and boy do they have stories to tell. An interesting one is Dhamu, an aged retired goon in a small village in the deep interiors of Andhra. Dhamu was an ordinary coolie during his youth at the railway station in the town near this village. On one fateful day, due to an event I will not reveal here, Dhamu had to take on the village goon who was terrorizing his village. He won and the goon was sent to jail. Now there was a power vacuum and many tried to take over the position until Dhamu himself thought he would take it over, just to stop other unscrupulous people taking over the village he loved. He promised himself that he would be just and fair. It has been 20 years since that day. I asked Dhamu if he felt he has kept the promise he made to himself.
Dhamu took a deep breath, looked outside the window, looked back at me with tired but sharp eyes and said,”A fine morning many years ago, I woke up and saw the village goon I vanquished standing right in front of me. He hadn’t aged a day since the last I saw him. He still had the same sneer over his lips and anger in his eyes. It took me a while to realize then I was just staring at my own reflection in the mirror. In trying to stop him, I’ve become him. I was no different. I was doing the same things he did. So I retired, but not before doing one last good deed to this village.”
I asked him what it was for which came the reply
“I started a school. I figured if the people here had education they would never submit themselves to the whim of anyone”
April 20 (Didn’t even have to check)
I am still travelling and have been meeting a lot of people. I think I finally know what I am going to write about. I wanted to make this last entry to my journal before I venture into translating all these wonderful experiences and tales to paper. I waited so long waiting for inspiration to come to me, that I fell into a routine and didn’t even realize the days passing by. Inspiration does not come, you find inspiration. As in get off your ass, experience life, and go find that inspiration. I will be starting a new novel and continuing my travels trying to find my inspiration. This is how I will overcome my struggle to write…
My story is being published as part of an anthology revolving around the CHENNAI FLOODS titled– “AFTER THE FLOODS”. Here is the link to the trailer I made for the book 🙂