The Weird Little Dream

Writing about stuff? That’s easy…I could do it…I mean, how difficult can it really be? But then come all the snags, lined up Indian file, fighting to get in front…what do I write about? How do I start? How much do I say? Where do I stop? Do I begin at the beginning go on till the end and then stop?? All these questions vie for my attention, until as a body they all rush upon my brain, cook the little noodle I had in there, and leave me like a Hiroshima after the bombing! By the time I pick up the fragments of what is left of the little grey matter, the muse has left the building, and I am still standing there gaping at the sudden increase in breathing space…breathe in, breathe out…mmm…freshness…the freshness of total lack of thought…the freshness of emptiness…empty space…could be filled with anything…what can you fill it with? Books? Boxes? Crayons? Dolls? Pots and pans? And where is this empty space by the way? Is it a field? Is it among the clouds? Clouds? Clouds…rain…lightning, thunder…a picture of great big clouds rolling around, bashing into each other fills the mind…that’s what my mama told me happened when I heard thunder…my mama…with her bright smile, her long black hair, the wonderful food she made…food…what was my favourite food? Biriyani was always a hit. What else? Curd rice? Noodles? Noodles…I used to eat them on Sunday mornings after I got back from church and before I left for Sunday school. I used to watch Mayavi as I ate the hot noodles, week after week. Mayavi! Mukesh Khanna was the hero. Silly serial really…so many silly serials nowadays…women crying, men getting drunk, children getting lost…is it against the rules for people in serials to be happy? Happiness! What is it? Am I happy? Do I make others happy? What makes people happy? What makes me happy? Reading books makes me happy. Who writes these books? How do they write these books? Does it make them happy to write these books? Will it make me happy to write books? Will it make me happy to write? If it will, I should try it. That should be easy! I could do it! But what do I write about? How do I start? How much do I say? Where do I stop?