One of those 'Random Confessions'

A little less dramatic, but close enough..

For someone who enjoyed writing, I haven't written anything in over a year. A long dead and neglected blog is a testimony to that.

It's not because of some writer's block that stretched well over a year. It's not because I lack the will. ‘I’ve been busy and occupied’ is the excuse I give but everybody knows it’s just that, an excuse. Yes, I am lazy, but that's not 'the' reason. I haven’t been emotionally dead for so long either. I had plethora of emotions pulling me in every direction.

I have been livid with anger on numerous occasions, so livid that I cried violently every time I tried writing about it and I have been happy too, so happy that if a genie materialised in front of me right then I won't have known what more to ask for.

I did feel loved, so loved that I couldn't think of a more lucky person.

I felt humiliated, depressed, trampled, crushed and hopeless for days at a time. On the other hand there were days I felt happy, elated, ecstatic, obsessive and passionate.

There were days when I loved every living being on the planet and then there were days when I despised mankind altogether.

There were days when I believed with every grain of my being that the world loves me and on other occasions I believed that I make no difference to this world what so ever with the same passion.

There were days when I went out and made friends of strangers and then there were other when I severed all ties with the world.

Evidently there wasn't a dearth of things to write about. Every emotion that I felt had one common thread, one thing, the only thing that could ever make me write- Passion.

I had abundant opportunities to tell a story that instead of sharing I chose to strangle and push under the carpet.

Why ?

Well, because as I have been told multiple times I am an IDIOT. 

This blog was more than just a blog. It was a promise I made, goals I set, expectations I had from myself. Although I have come a long way since this blog was started, yet, every time I failed to keep those promises, fell short of reaching those goals and meet those obscenely high level of expectations I felt unworthy.

I wanted to write. I wanted it, very badly and so I tried. I tried over and over again and I gave up over and over again. Every time I failed and felt unworthy I marked the occasion by killing a story I could have told.

Now as 2011 inches closer I find myself sitting on a pile of skeletons of stories I killed with what seems like a wasted year, a neglected blog, a confounded mind, two roads diverging in the woods and a scared heart.

P.S: Note to self

Dear scared heart, Please believe. JUST BELIEVE.

Dear Confounded mind, Try harder. You are capable of much more. 'Scared Heart' has a lot of faith in you.

Tryst with Versatility

"Two roads diverged in a wood,
I took the one less traveled by…
And that has made all the difference!"

A well paying secure job, a decent house and a family, this is all that most people aspire in life. But what would you call a man who gave up these very things and went on to become a street artist and chose a life of uncertainty ? Eccentric?
May be it does take an element of eccentricity to leave the trodden path and wander in uncertain terrain, not just to say that I’ll live life on my own terms but to go out and do it, not just to dare to dream but to chase those dreams and live it!

Piet Bel is one of those few who are living their dream. Sauntering at Connaught Place I spotted a middle aged foreigner making live sketch of a lady. More than his artistic ability what caught my attention was the glint of passion in his eyes. Something about him made me stop and take notice. There are times when one meets the most unexpected people at most unexpected place and in the least expected manner. I stood there in silence observing him finish his sketch with utmost devotion. It was for the first time I had actually experienced how does it feel to love one’s work.

Piet told me that he was well versed in six languages .By profession he was a teacher, a translator, a linguist, an artist, a musician, a traveler and an author. Phew!
‘Versatile’ would be an understatement for such a person. And in case you are wondering, Jack of all trade- you are wrong; he was the master of all.
Piet had been traveling all over the world for last 22 years and already had two published travelogues to his credit. He first came to India in 1997 and since then he has kept coming back. On being asked what intrigued him most about the country, he promptly replied “Why it’s diversity of course,” and then added “Varanasi” as an after thought. “I couldn't stop my amazement at realizing the contrast of Glen Affric in Scottish Highlands and this Indian Varanasi. No other place has made such an impression on me. While floating on the majestic and inspiring Ganges I was happy to be,” he said. His love affair with India incidentally started with Varanasi.

At 48, Piet is more in love with life than any teenager and his contentment shone bright in his eyes. I asked him about the books he had written and he said he had just finished one called ‘Hannah’ which is life story of a girl and with a child like delight added that the closing chapter is based in India. The book has not been published yet. I couldn't keep myself from asking why he chose India as the backdrop for the closing chapter. He immediately got up, opened his bag and took out a white book. “I happen to have an unpublished copy of my work, why don’t you read it and find out for your self?” he said handing me his book. I turned the first page and there it was, in a tiny hand
‘For D, Journalists are the objective and critical eye of society: don’t forget!’ signed Pier Bel.
I could feel the bubble of happiness inflating within me. “May I ask just one more thing?” I asked my voice almost shaking with excitement. “Go ahead,” he said with a smile. “What is it that you wish from life?” “I would like to be somewhere. Be somewhere without wishing any thing else. Be somewhere because I want to be there, not imagining, not knowing there might be other places one could go, not waiting for death as if I was retired or tired of life or waiting for something to happen but to be able to see the trees and look at skies and be able to hear my hear,”  he concluded dreamily.

P.S: We were actually given an assignment to go to C.P and interview any "interesting" person we can find and report it.
* First target was the CD guys at Palika and that turned out to be a hilarious and "ENRICHING" experience.
* I zeroed on beggars next but that didn't work either and Shruti ended up giving her lunch (Chicken roll) to them.
* Then We just bumped into PIET BEL and ended up talking to him for over 2 hours and finally I did get an "interesting" interview and the draft of his not yet published book so nice of Piet!
* Yesterday I was up all night trying to write this report but I couldn't get a sentence and today morning I had this entire thing typed in less than an hour sitting in college.
 I perform best in Pressure cooker conditions.