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How to say I’m a Writer without actually spelling it


Gargi Mehra is one of the bloggers and writers I follow. I always knew her to be this super talented writer but the fun streak is refreshing to know. Go read this post which is so much fun and she shared another posted link on Writer’s Relief. I read it and back to her post, decided to jump on this bandwagon of fun.

While I am no writer of published book or for that matter wannabe, there are ingenious ways in claiming the pie without actually telling to be One. Here we go:

  1. I keep buying notebooks and colorful pens, staring at the blank screen, scribbling story ideas that gets unwritten and an agenda diary penning Daily To Do Writing, buried over the years.

2. The ink is totally dried on my work station that someone may get wrong ideas that I do weird stuff to them. Silly mind, I ain’t into BDSM and have no intention writing about them in future. No ifs and buts!

3. Always on a spree and can’t resist getting pens or notebooks from the supermarket as if it’s the hottest chick in town. Don’t believe me! Check this picture of the colorful notebook still unpacked since 2020 and splurged many hundreds on the news ones this week. And I thought, buying fancy pens and notebooks is my ticket to be a best selling writer in town or motivation. It’s no gymming.

4. Before you tell me move my ass, I have conducted three writing workshops last year urging participants to follow the 500 rule, except that it doesn’t work on the man who thinks he’s PG WodeHouse.

5. Yes! I still swear by Chetan Bhagat, cigarette after sex Five Point Someone!

6. If you ever scroll my google search engine and before getting me to jail just bear in mind that that I have no interest in Savita Bhabhi or desi hot stuff, it’s plain research for hot romance. Yes! I mean it and have no intention to be caught and cooped in mental asylum.

7. Hate British commas and figure ways to slash repetitive words even in technical writing. Still have doubt about me claiming “I am Writer Without Saying I am a Writer”, I shall rephrase it too.. I am a Writer Without Saying So…” coz the first one was repetitive. See my obsession.

8. Have doubts, don’t google me but break into my Grammarly to see how proficient I am.

9. I got my first Dell Aspiron laptop to write the next best seller romance. Sold second hand to a neigbor coz wanted to dance naked on the street. I wasn’t jailed for that. Howzz that for writing imagination! Got an HP washed with Beer and an Asus making me curse the choicest desis cuss words for its frozen every single day and my window to the world cum screen presently is hanging by a thread to be detached soon like split wide open. It’s been 10 years and still writing the best seller.

10. I need a MacBook next year for well I write and can’t wait penning the book. Plain and simple.

11. The fuck word I embellish is what creativity does and don’t mean it literally.

12. I keep buying ebooks and hard copies, receive in gifts too for that’s where a story can brew in my head.

13. Look at my manuscripts, an abandoned fiction romance draft, restarted the second and lost again, poem collection and trying to save my collection of short stories project thinking it’s water.

14. I can give people prompts to write. I list story ideas and give freely on Twitter.

15. On Facebook, I write lengthily on my status and just name a topic of your choice. My challenge to you.

16. If you ever steal my diary, my guarantee you might end up with a heart attack and giving for free to all my foes or folks hating me. Sweet revenge and seeing unkind entries about you or me thinking about you as Donald Duck, Rakhi Sawant or Kangana Ranaut. See! this is the trailer of what I make of you.

17. I can listen to chote chote peg from Sonu Ki Titu Ki Sweety in search for the next big idea and someone told it breaks writers’ block into tiny pieces pretty much like virginity.

18. Noteapp on my mobile is forever open and if you see the number of poems I wrote, it’s already a book. Now argue with that?

19. I dream of making sentences in sleep only to forget them in the morning,

20. This post about writing is a work of fiction and bears no ressemblance to any ghost, half-human, spirits, living, dead or roaming like wolves. Now, you know where all craziness comes. Say Writer, spell Writer.

Feel free doing it and ping me. Will read.

Love

V

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Heart is no red


Heart is no red,

milk is white,

chocolate ain’t brown,

sea is not blue,

fuck the word,

hair is not silver,

a brush of magenta,

on my black hair,

color not invented by chameleon,

unicorn ran away with the hottest girl,

palette not my creation,

little silly words,

roses plucked,

not Eve’s garden,

a crimson tale,

she gawked at me,

ghosted,

a banana peel tendered on her hand,

i picked buds in the wrong garden.

Love

V

 

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Ten Year challenge is fun and not purposeful validation


Unadulterated or just plain fun needs no purpose or meaning in life, pretty much like one-night stand ending in no emotional strings. The 10 yearchallenge hashtag on social media last week captured the imagination in not only bringing the child in us alive but provoked unnecessary debate on its futility with some pulling the plugs on the whys of editing pictures, and insecurity arguments being flung.

Initially, I was in two minds on posting pictures to compare how I changed over the years from a carefree college student to adult but realized that having some twinge of fun never hurts.  It caught my fancy putting my images on both Facebook and Twitter to show the changes in the person that I have become.  An old college chum commented on aging beautifully like old wine and I add on getting better with maturity. I am still the same person, except the hair and beard bearing streak of grey. I am youthful, playful, flirty and exuberant.

Falling in love, break up and fuck-ups pretty summed the person I have become over a decade. Struggles have become a part of me and taking few kilos or suddenly growing into plain adulthood or midlife that can be a bane, at times. The child in me is forever alive after all those years and the heart still goes dhak dhak at the sight of a pretty girl or beaming like a child surprised by the unexpected. Becoming more detached is the new and improved me, bearing a stark contrast to the clinger that I was, expressing pain when a friendship went sour or seeing people that matters moving on.  Now, such things matter very less.  I am still a sucker of emotions for certain things never change.

Social media can be quite toxic. I saw several folks hitting on this 10 year challenge by throwing an entire conspiracy theory on the misuse of information or compromising on our data.  Hey! What’s wrong with having some fun! Not everything we do need purpose or meaning and social sanction. Honestly, I haven’t read any article on this challenge compromising information or data misuse. As it is, we are already putting selfies every single day on Facebook and the risk is always present on pictures slipping out of hands. This whole conspiracy argument doesn’t hold the waters.

We could do well without being so negative by hitting at a challenge that makes us happy, getting likes or joyfully complimenting our connections or online friends how lovely they look. What’s up with this whole thing about attaching meaning to everything and I repeat, not everything need to have a purpose.  I choose to be happy like many by uploading pictures over the years and there is no point in expressing our frustration by crying hoarse about this whole misplaced argument about self-validation. For one, I see nothing wrong if someone choose to edit their pictures and if it makes you feel good by looking younger, hiding flaws or going clean-shaven, so be it. Do things that make you lively and it whittles down to perception rather than insecurities. We all have insecurities. I am the first to honestly own it that if there is a need, will hide the flaws. I color the grey spots on the hair for it makes me feel good inside as a person.

This entire challenge brought alive a feeling of immense happiness and I complimented several girls on my friend list on how pretty and awesome they look.  Compliments never hurt but bring a smile on faces. Go ahead to make yourself and people in your circle awesome for it’s another way to heal by feeling sexy inside.  As it is, don’t we say, age is how you feel inside! We don’t need so much of negativity or lending interpretation to every act that we indulge into. I feel extremely kicked to be part of the 10 year challenge for not only being myself but harked back to the past, laughing at stupidities or screw ups but brought me alive. Life is meant to be enjoyed at every moment and we don’t need logic to describe our actions. Just be. Be a narcissist if you feel as long as it makes you happy! We owe zero fucks to the world.

Love

V

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Day 16: Reuniting after 12 years


The halcyon days of near perfection, fights, cackle of laughter, aspirations and leg pulling. Ah! Those silly pranks. The whining about how horrible we (were) are to each other to sit together the next morning and huddled for a common cause. Bitching about each other with each other. The college days where we nurtured rebellion, innocent crushes, falling in love and slugging out, ticklish in the name of thrill or pretending to ignore or not talking to each other.

Time heals or perhaps, we compromise with each other, accepting flaws or differences as a sign of maturity or growing old up. An entire lifetime seems to be wiped off and memories cherished in a box confined in some ruined corners, looking at the 12 years that flitted. The defining years that made us real and not flinching in expressing emotions, anger, sadness or happiness. For sure, it is a long time. Neraj, his wife, and two kids came down for holiday from Nepal. A reunion where we made new memories for spending two days together, reminiscing about the lost years, laughing and making silly pranks that give the feeling that nothing has changed after all those years. The entire gang who were together in Pune met at the house of Manish, his wife and little daughter. The college get together with many of us who kicked off with dinner and staying over night with Manish’s brother Gaurav and cousin joining the fun.

There was a time in Pune when all of us were students who used to stay together and often crashing-Neraj and I-at Manish’s place. I used to be flatmates with Manish and Kusum for a year and left for a new house but kept spending my time with them. The friendship stayed intact. Human interaction can be quirky and amusing at the same time when I met another guy, a former flatmate with whom I wasn’t in talking terms for two years of my life. Initially, I was apprehensive but glad that the ice was broken as we spoke about respective careers and experience in Pune.

I was in for a shock when he told me that one of our first flatmates during our first year committed suicide in 2007. It made me feel uneasy for a moment when you didn’t realize that fact, assuming people must be getting on their own lives. I mean, we were not friends and didn’t spoke much or saw each other. But, it does take away something from us.

We boozed till the wee hours in the morning. A silly prank was played on me by Neraj like it used to be during the carefree days. Manish called me in the kitchen to choose the whisky bottle to be opened and zeroed on the Chivas Regal. I got the honor to open the bottle and was serving everyone to realize that my iPhone 8 went missing. I almost lost the head, trying to recollect where it was kept but remembered crisply well it was just with me a second away. Neraj was the mastermind who asked Manish’s wife to hide the phone. The only difference was that I wasn’t angry unlike in those days where an outburst would have been my legitimate reaction.

A cigar followed. Neraj was forced to have a second peg that he resisted initially since the wife and children were waiting for him in the room. He turned out to be quite the family man who gave up on the fag and alcohol makes him once in a blue moon type. The best thing is that he is still the same fun-loving man and never shy in making the silly jokes or laughing the loudest, making some bizarre sound with his mouth. The morning, breakfast time and tea session just felt like in Pune as Manish’s wife aptly read my feeling. It reminded me of the wintery morning in the kitchen when tea brew and the near perfect moments when we would be laughing, running and pulling silly pranks on each other in Pune. The only person missing in the picture is Adi.

We recreated memories, accompanying Neraj, his wife R and two kids, Jagrit and his cute little munchkin just 10 months old who simply touched the heart. Lunch followed and I bonded with the son who has turned into such a fine young man. I love his inquisitive nature of exploring things and the thirst for knowledge. We bonded. Of course, his baby daughter is so adorable and the moment you take her in your arms, she will rest her tender head on your shoulder. It’s amazing how a toddler can trust you with her life. It feels divine for a bachelor like me and bizarre at the same time since I am one of the rare ones, unmarried minus children.

The pictures clicked together and there are lots of them on the smartphones. There was a time we all owned a modest camera and some used to have a digicam to shoot all of us in action. Today, at a click, the phone conjures all the tricks. The two days spent and renewing the bonding with friends made me realize that we hardly met and time to catch up more often. Quality time doesn’t mean seeing each other every alternate moment but those two days strengthened the belief what friendship is all about and we can still make memories remaining entrenched in our lives forever.

The way I saw Neraj in college and never in my most crazy imagination would imagine meeting him years later as an affectionate husband, doting husband to his two children and a changed man for good and better. I told him so on the phone and was amazed to see how we can change in more than one ways for life is never constant.

We met in another country and quite an emotional goodbye to each other, hugging and of course, the baby also embraced her elder but new friends. Isn’t it interesting how as babies we may never know the people whom we met or places we saw? Yet, there is an emotional connect. I almost pushed Neraj inside the car before getting emotional. The time I went back home on the day it was raining and realized that we weathered the cyclone and stormy weather to happily hang out together. The positive mood triggered some past emotions in my heart and veering to the day which defined our lives, thinking how some people are bound to meet or overcome conflicts. We had quite a few disagreements but he reached out to me a couple of years back. We decided to close the chapter and moved on to being good friends.

Guess what, he got me some Nepali chai, tokla and a shawl for Mom which is very thoughtful since he never met Mom. I made Mom chide him for not coming home and he promised of making amends the next time. I am dying to visit Nepal and would be a wonderful opportunity to explore not just the place but also the spiritual side of life. Another time, another place…chartering new memories as I have already to miss the days that makes a perfect framed moment.

Love

V