What to Write When I have Nothing to Write about....

It's said.. First the storm.. Then the lull and then come the aftermath.

I am in a pleasant aftermath. The idea of my hobby had taken my friends and relatives by a storm and forced them to see me in a new light. I still can't understand what hit them the most the fact that I have stories to tell where they could be potential character or that I can manage to write well. After initial uprising of enthusiasm, awe, shocks and wonder they all settled into a lull, accepted my new 'avtar'  and  let me be me. My sceptical friend stopped correcting my grammar and usage while my philosopher friends stopped searching for conceptual meanings in my text.

I needed to write again! How could I? I hate writing and currently I could not think of one subject of liking. Subjects come to me spontaneously and specially when I’m on my bike. I start my bike and go for a ride and its then when I start getting ideas. It's here where all the thoughts consolidate to give me a more created hand. If we ignore the two traffic tickets, irritated drivers and the penalty I have had to pay for breaking traffic rules, I can say my rides have been profitable – creatively.

So today I started my bike, checked for license and helmet.. all in place, even the fuel tank showed promise so I started my bike ready to ride through my ideas my creative balloon got a prick when my wife called out to give me an errand of picking up the ironed clothes from the laundry on my way back." it's absolutely necessary" she warned "I have a function to attend". I responsibly nodded and carried on with my thought process but my mind refuse to give me any respite. I was totally conscious about my surroundings. I tried to go into my dream world but to no avail and still not speck of ideas on the canvas of my mind.

I passed a playground and saw children playing. I enjoy sports. How about writing on them? Presently the whole nation was swaying to the beats of IPL matches, nobody would be interested in reading about them. Moreover Dhoni and Tendulkar already have books and movies to their credit. I am not a great fan of cricket and if at all I did watch a match my eyes would always be riveted to the cheerleaders. The only eye candy of the match that never held any fascination for me. If it was football the scene would have been different. Nothing could keep me away from my side of the sofa, with my eyes on the screen and my favourite and unhealthy snack. When you taste buds are stimulated, health takes a backseat. I pondered for a while. I could write about health, eating habits, diet, exercise and mental wellbeing. My excitement on my new topic did not last long as the mobile beeped reminding the appointment date with my doctor. With the doctors and hospitals making quiet a fortune through my health insurance, I was definitely not a candidate to advocate health.

Then what? How about sticking to my hobby horse ....love, relations, girlfriends ...... I could express myself very well on last. I had quite a few ones to talk about. 'Girlfriends' -an interesting topic indeed. Everyone would surely agree to it.. Everyone except my better half….. so I nipped the  idea at the bud. I smartly don't take such risks. I was already 20 minutes into my thoughts and still no story had taken shape. Story ideas right now for me resembled my stocks at the share market--in depreciation, so can't write about share market too. How about some patronizing speech. The Easter month is still on. I could write on some inspiring life quotes, debate on vices and virtues.  Unfortunately for me, I have jumbled up the 'V's. How?... let's leave it for a later topic.

So with no ideas and so nothing to write I took a U turn towards home. I was standing at the traffic signal when I received a message from a colleague. Coincidentally she too was asking about my next topic. I asked her for her suggestion....  'Life after death' her suggestion remained unacknowledged, the signal had turned green. Now my mind was completely blank. Whatever half-baked ideas had been formulated also vanished. Who thinks of death? Philosophers maybe.... I should consult them. I had no clue on the subject. I have barely understood life during life and life in death, quiet ignorant about it. Life I have heard are the choices we make. MCQs have always been my worst nightmare, so this topic itself was a question of life and death for me...

I could see my house now. I rode into my parking. For a change, I realized, I had ridden safely. Didn't as usual get caught on the wrong side of law.

I smiled...

 'Life is good'

 I saw her standing at the door with a smile. Wow... it's going to be a lovely Sunday ahead. My smile grew bigger....

‘Life is beautiful’

"‘Darling, where's the laundry?”

My smile froze...

Finished.....

Life after death ...........to be continued.

***

"To my love Binoy" – My First Love Letter

"Hey chubby cheeks!!!!! Wait for me" I turned to find a class mate .He came up to me, pulled my cheeks, put his hand over my shoulders and we walked to school.

Short and stout, round actually with chubby cheeks dimpled chin... I was the cutie pie of the class and as the nursery rhyme goes the teachers' pet too. No wonder, I was made the monitor of the class. I sat on the first bench not because of my position though, it was the only place from where I could see the board without standing up. All the boys and girls were my pals. The girls loved me, smiled at me, laughed at my jokes, played with me but that's the end of the story. Maybe I was too cute for them to be interested in me and as for the guys, none of them considered me a threat to them, so with bittersweet emotions I watched girls and boys passing on love letters to each other confessing their love.

Love letters that was the only medium to proclaim your love! It was considered as the ultimate verdict of a serious relationship. Obviously I was never a recipient and to top it I was the official postman. I did get to read a few of them and I used to be carried away by the sweet, tough promises and till death do us part quotes. Sometimes I did wish that I would get one.

So it was a shocking surprise, one day, when I found a letter addressed to me. The half yearly exams were going on, the seating arrangement was such that it was a mix of 8th standard and 10th standard. After a disastrous attempt at the history paper that day where I could still not answer why Shah Jahan had built Taj Mahal, when lo and behold it lay there right at the foot of my desk. A pink sheet with words "To my love Binoy"

  More out of disbelief than excitement my hands trembled. The first thing I did was to put it into my chest pocket. As if in trance I walked home. Throughout the way the faces of the 21 girls in my class played before me. I wondered 'Who'. I did not want to open my 'Puzzle' and solve the mystery. I speculated on some, some of them I wished would be, some I hoped not, with yet others I was sure would never be. I removed the letter from the pocket in the secrecy of my room. I once again read my name, spelt it, yes it was for me. My joy, my shock, my bewilderment, knew no bounds when I read the name of the sender.

The most sought after girl in my class had considered me. The last image I had of her was her fair and smooth hands caressing the cheek of a boy who had mustered up courage to propose her .Only, he was left howling and with a red mark on his cheek as a souvenir. I again read her name. Yes it was she and it was for me. She had turned down many and yet today she wrote to me? I started to read it, made no sense on the first reading but slowly words sunk in. An adjective and a verb caught my selective mind...'sweet and like' she found me sweet enough to like me. My emotions are still unexplainable. The top of the world emotion. She had not concealed any of her feelings she was even ready to die if I did not reciprocate to her. It made me feel like a knight in shining armour. I felt taller than my 4 feet 10 inches. I was no ordinary boy now. I was an young adult and asserted myself, felt great and important, read the letter again the same feelings surged up. I could not wait to barge about my achievement... After all the cutie pie had stolen the show right from under the nose of the smarties.

There was spring in my feet the next day to school. That I had forgotten my lunch bag at home made my parents realize that my mind was elsewhere. The moment I entered the class I saw her. Today it was different. I actually stared at her. She stared back and smiled .Wow I could die hundred times for a rewind. I tried to read her smile. What did she want to say? My eyes were on her throughout the day... well actually part of the day, the rest of the day I was standing out as punishment for my offence......not concentrating in class and  just smiling away to glory.

Well no one knew my secret. In the snack break my friends rallied around me, wanted to know the reason of my strange behaviour. With elan I told them my predicament. They completely disbelieved me. I showed them the evidence then they hero worshiped me. They wanted to know how I had managed it after all. After receiving my felicitations with fake modesty I was still smiling when one of them asked "now what" It sounded alien to me. I have not decided. Yet it was a fact ...'what next’.

I was coaxed by my friends to approach her. They promised me moral support by being around when I approached her.

The historic moment took place that evening. She and her friends were coming back from music class. Music..... She was learning to sing. How did she know I loved songs.....? I got a soul mate feeling. Everything was so blissful...  she approaching me.... smiling right from the moment her eyes met mine... she was even wearing my favourite colour...  Yellow. What more could have I asked for? The setting was perfect. She asked me something, I did not respond, did not listen, and only heard her sweet voice. She called out my name. I must have only gapped at her for she was now showing irritation. I just held out her letter, she stared at it. Her lovely face was very expressive, only this time the expressions were not right. Her pretty face flushed red "where did you get it".

I still don't know if I had heard it right then but I replied and as realization struck her she laughed. It made no sense ... where I had imagined a sweet, shy, confessing rendezvous... It turned out to be a far cry. Something was not right. In between her giggles she told me "it’s not for you, but the other Binoy of 10th standard”. My pack of cards came tumbling down... Why did I feel the waves of disappointment wash away my castle of love? She had the audacity to pull my cheek then, I moved away. She said I was not 'interesting' in that sense. This was like adding insult to injury. I challenged her. I promised to get a love letter of my own. I stood rooted while she took her letter and without a backward glance walked away.

I smartly tackled my friends into believing that I had rejected her..." She's not my kind", I said...And left them open-mouthed.

Later I tried to cajole a few girls to write me a love letter..... None yet … Times changed, today I have my love beside me but no love letter ....Mine was technological.

But even today ....in solitude, When I think back ....I have still not got over the euphoria of possession of a love letter.....Though not mine.

I still wait for One….