I started writing this blog to take a break from the strenuous task of writing a novel. I invited all my acquaintances in twitter, face-book to read my blog and requested a few through mail. Although, I never claimed this to be of high standards, I was contented when people started hitting the site instantly. However, there were bad patches too for me, as few guys in twitter asked me not to spam, though politely. I had a heavy heart the entire day. They were right, even I get exasperated at the spams that I confront in my mails. Again, there was more to worry about, one of my friends from South Africa was quick to point out some mistakes too. I acknowledged her and corrected the mistakes cursing my laxity. Thanks to all who have appreciated my effort, corrected my mistakes and who, let me my follies known (that I was spamming).
Even though I had a passion for writing from a tender age of seven, the writing bug bit me severely exactly three years ago, when I was sitting in a room in Sharjah beguiling away my time watching the busy street from the window. Everyday in the morning and evening I looked through the window from the fourth floor watching hordes of vehicles moving incessantly through the busy street in front of the Abu Shagara Park. The whole aura of the place had a peculiar emotion which I , till this day, fail to explain. I took my diary, which was presented to me by a person called Sahani in Kochi, and started writing my observations about the busy street and about the Abu Shagara Park that lay adjacent to it. When I started reading the things I wrote, I could smell the odor of the vehicles that ranged from the majestic four-wheel drives, driven by the Arab fat cats and the humble petite used cars driven by an Indian merchant or a Pakistani cab driver. I could hear the cacophonous sounds of the vehicles and people in the street, erupting from my words. From then on writing was a favourite pastime for me. I wrote my first novel in my room at my home in Trivandrum, the pages of it still lying in the draw of my table, the way I left three years ago. Then I wrote few screenplays for short films for the project work at our film academy and I am proud to say that, our teacher and my mates there considered me one of the best writers at the academy.
These are the days when I have started writing my third novel and I feel the stress of aspiring to write something good and sensible. My friend from South Africa read a couple of chapters and lauded my effort. Moreover, she volunteered to edit the stuff for me. That gave me some confident to move on. Thank you. I know I have a long way to go…
Picture courtesy: thingsontop.com