Tag Archives: Writing

Catch a poem by its tail

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Just re-watched one of my favourite TED videos : Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity. The bit about poet Ruth Stone’s writing process is what I love most about this talk :

“As [Stone] was growing up in rural Virginia, she would be out, working in the fields and she would feel and hear a poem coming at her from over the landscape. It was like a thunderous train of air and it would come barrelling down at her over the landscape. And when she felt it coming…cause it would shake the earth under her feet, she knew she had only one thing to do at that point. That was to, in her words, run like hell to the house as she would be chased by this poem. The whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper fast enough so that when it thundered through her, she could collect it and grab it on the page. Other times she wouldn’t be fast enough, so she would be running and running, and she wouldn’t get to the house, and the poem would barrel through her and she would miss it, and it would continue on across the landscape looking for ‘another poet’. And then there were these times, there were moments where she would almost miss it. She is running to the house and is looking for the paper and the poem passes through her. She grabs a pencil just as it’s going through her and she would reach out with her other hand and she would catch it. She would catch the poem by its tail and she would pull it backwards into her body as she was transcribing on the page. In those instances, the poem would come up on the page perfect and intact, but backwards, from the last word to the first.”

(Stole the above text from this blog)

Pieces of the Wall

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I’ve never had the courage to write about Rahul Dravid. Like actually sit down and write a piece he deserves, like I’d want to. Maybe someday I will, but till then I am more than happy to read some wonderful pieces of writing on him that pop up now and then. Since I find myself going back to some of them quite often, I thought I’d make a list of some of the (in my opinion) really brilliant ones. I’m going to keep updating this list as and when I find other articles on him. I’m pretty sure there are some other great ones out there that I might have missed, so if any of you have any recommendations then do let me know so I can add them!

(in no particular order)

  1. Arun Sagar – “On being a fan”
  2. Sidvee – “When Dravid was there”
  3. Sidarth Monga – “Hiding behind the wall”
  4. Kunal Pradhan – “Dravid, who never changes”
  5. Rohit Brijnath – “The beauty of waiting in Test cricket”
  6. Sidvee – “Dravid and the mastery of struggle”
  7. Sidvee – “Degrees of fandom”
  8. Vikramjit Singh – “The Curious Case of Rahul Dravid’s Rebellion” (contributed by Supreeth)
  9. Alan Tyers – “The Secret Diary of Rahul Dravid, Aged 29792 Balls”
  10. Sriram Dayanand – “The Beacon”

Just A Writer

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Two days ago, I turned on my Kindle 2 (recently handed down to me after the ‘rents acquired a Kindle 3 – with a gorgeous new burgundy cover that I’m so in love with) to try to get through some boring, blah reading material for college. Instead, I see that at some point during the day, my father had put  Wil Wheaton’s ‘Just A Geek’ on it, which he had finished reading in one shot the night before.

Now, I’ve been a big fan of Wil Wheaton – not for the fact that he played Wesley Crusher, or for his blog – but for his adorable pet ‘tweets’ that he put up now and then. As a fellow pet owner, who also has dogs and a cat, I find myself relating to these quite a lot and I always find myself laughing out loud, thinking ‘I KNOW, RIGHT?’ every time he tweets about these pet ‘incidents’. So I thought, ok lets give this book a shot.

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I love that I do not take things lightly

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An excerpt from Eve Ensler’s book “I Am an Emotional Creature: The Secret Life of Girls Around the World”. Thank you Gaurav for making me listen to this!

I love being a girl.
I can feel what you’re feeling
as you’re feeling it inside
the feeling
before.
I am an emotional creature.
Things do not come to me
as intellectual theories or hard-shaped ideas.
They pulse through my organs and legs
and burn up my ears.
I know when your girlfriend’s really pissed off
even though she appears to give you what
you want.
I know when a storm is coming.
I can feel the invisible stirrings in the air.
I can tell you he won’t call back.
It’s a vibe I share.

I am an emotional creature.
I love that I do not take things lightly.
Everything is intense to me.
The way I walk in the street.
The way my mother wakes me up.
The way I hear bad news.
The way it’s unbearable when I lose.

I am an emotional creature.
I am connected to everything and everyone.
I was born like that.
Don’t you dare say all negative that it’s a
teenage thing
or it’s only only because I’m a girl.
These feelings make me better.
They make me ready.
They make me present.
They make me strong.

I am an emotional creature.
There is a particular way of knowing.
It’s like the older women somehow forgot.
I rejoice that it’s still in my body.

I know when the coconut’s about to fall.
I know that we’ve pushed the earth too far.
I know my father isn’t coming back.
That no one’s prepared for the fire.
I know that lipstick means
more than show.
I know that boys feel super-insecure
and so-called terrorists are made, not born.
I know that one kiss can take
away all my decision-making ability
and sometimes, you know, it should.

This is not extreme.
It’s a girl thing.
What we would all be
if the big door inside us flew open.
Don’t tell me not to cry.
To calm it down
Not to be so extreme
To be reasonable.
I am an emotional creature.
It’s how the earth got made.
How the wind continues to pollinate.
You don’t tell the Atlantic ocean
to behave.

I am an emotional creature.
Why would you want to shut me down
or turn me off?
I am your remaining memory.
I am connecting you to your source.
Nothing’s been diluted.
Nothing’s leaked out.
I can take you back.

I love that I can feel the inside
of the feelings in you,
even if it stops my life
even if it hurts too much
or takes me off track
even if it breaks my heart.
It makes me responsible.
I am an emotional
I am an emotional, devotional,
incandotional, creature.
And I love, hear me,
love love love
being a girl.

Eh?

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The end of another semester is nearing, so that means getting back assignments and test papers. As I look through my answers, I realize that I can’t recall ever having put those particular words there.

I’m a stranger to my own work!

(I could have put this on Twitter, but I feel I am neglecting my poor blog)

PS : It’s raining, gorgeous weather I’d say, if only I didn’t have to go out and catch two buses to college now.

Forcing Words

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“Observe the wonders as they occur around you. Don’t claim them. Feel the artistry moving through and be silent.”

- Rumi

As a writer, and a student, I know there is no point in life that I can reach and say “This is it. This is how writing should be”. For me, writing changes everyday.  I can never pin point a particular form and absolutely believe that this is my form. However, one thing that has remained a constant necessity is that writing shouldn’t sound, well, forced.

I literally squirm when I have to listen people create images with words that are just not plausible, that the words are literally being forced to play a strange and awkward role, that need to be released from their misery. Words, they are like pieces of a puzzle, you can’t jam them into a space that’s not right and expect them to sit nice and pretty just because you feel smarter creating a pseudo psychotic image.

Writing is living, breathing, alive. A word is like a person, that has to have the right to choose its place in a piece. Maybe the mark of a true writer lies in not just knowing how to write, but how to let the words write themselves.

My words of wisdom I choose to dispense with a horrible mug-pot test looming before me. What excellent timing.