And suddenly I have nothing to write about. A long night at work – I wanted to write about it – how tiring and hopeless situations you grow into at around 2.30 am in the morning typing in some code that you are no longer sure of. I wanted to write about that. I wanted to take a shot at poetry – dead of a night – smoky chilled air – rains – thunderstorms – trees wavering like tresses of the love I deserved – I might have jotted down the perfect poem for the moment. I wanted to write about my struggles. I would have liked to finish my debut novel in a one night’s shot. I wanted to write a tale – a disarming one or maybe even a spooky one that would leave me in despair by the end of it – perfect setting of a night and an under-construction would-be corporate building – cranes, dump-trucks, excavators all lying dead like there never was any life in them. I wanted to make new metaphors and similes- like a bulldozer’s night sleep or lie like a windowpane!
You might not find anything very particularly sleepy about a bulldozer but look at them at night when the workers have gone to see their wives and you might understand what I mean here – look at them for a few minutes and think about all the time they had been toiling to pull and push. Let the chaos of the day sink into your skin and you would probably understand what sleeping like a bulldozer would mean.
And what’s so untrue about a windowpane? This might be easier to understand. How many times have you looked at the shut panes of your windows and wondered why you have not been able to break away yet? The pane makes it look much easy – a symbol of that boundary between what we are and what we could be – simple enough? Just break through the glass and you are there! Then there is another thing. I believe we try to play smart and try unfastening the door to get away. That is clever no doubt but then, it opens to a different world, not the one you would have reached had you broken the pane. That takes you somewhere else , probably another house that has similar window panes, or worse maybe not even those. The pane lies in our face giving us a false hope that we can break through it. Even if I do break through on a luckier day, we don’t know if the grass on the other side only ‘looked’ greener. Maybe we should just stop looking at the grass and see if we can find something else that is not so a function of color to tell us the truth! Colors can deceive.
I wanted to write about a lot of other things. However, I could only write about nothing. That nothing, that occupies my mind all the time. Nothingness – that is there in the world today. Nothingness that reeks from our stories, lies, and pretense. I ended up writing nothing of the night, nothing of our dreams, nothing of all the work that we claim to do, claim to finish, and regret not completing. I wrote nothing about the ‘lie’fe that we ‘lie’ve every day.
In the end, I wrote nothing.
But that was last night. This morning, I wrote something.
Picture credit – wikimedia