31st October 2009
I woke up early today, had to attend creative writing workshop. It was first day and registration was to be done. I tried yet I could not leave home before 8:30 AM. Reached Rajeev Chowk Metro station, and ordered an Espresso coffee in CCD as planned in between me and Mani yester night. He was wee bit late; I can understand how difficult it is to get up early morning for someone who sleeps at 3:00 PM in night. He took coffee and sandwiches and then paid. I wanted to make payment for my coffee but then he went to the cash counter and made the payment so I didn’t feel like fussing over such a trivial issue. I can compensate any other time. We took an auto for Safdar Jung enclave A 1/177. As Mani predicted it was Amrita Kumar’s residence. She is editor-in-chief with Rupa & Co. publishing and with Times of India as well. Her recent novel Damage has shown a recent release. Kavita Bhanot, post graduated in creative writing from Warwick University UK and is working on her first novel amidst the Indian hills of Himachal Pradesh. She is running a guest house too in Himachal Pradesh. We were 10 minutes late but didn’t miss anything significant as such. First, I noticed Kavita and felt Mani would definitely like her and this is what he needs in his girl. There was this exercise of introducing one another instead of ourselves. So, Mani introduced me and me to him. He introduced me as a self-proclaimed best cook who harps on cooking up a good story some day. I was dumb, as usual, the way I always go when amidst strangers. People who are more accomplished then me does not make me feel uneasy, it’s their façade that make me go uneasy. There were ten people in total from almost similar walks of life i.e. commonly from advertising, publishing, and, serious fiction writing. There was this lady, Saloni who claims to have ‘l'art pour l'art'' i.e. ‘Art for art’s sake’ motto in her life. She claims to love writing for the sake of pure writing and then ironically she wants make name and fame en route. There was one Japanese woman who had already published her non-fiction and is about to release her novel soon. There was this chap Manish, worked in some advertising agency and had published a novel already and is about to begin a new one soon. There was this girl graduated from soka (?) in California, which is a Buddhist institution and she wishes to write for the sake of serving purpose of humanity. She wants to spread her message to masses. Then there is this lady who lives in Dwarka, had previously worked as a copywriter. She was talking too high and I felt as if she is trying to project what she is not. There was this writer who climbed he has ‘Obsessive compulsive disorder’ when it comes to writing. He mechanically produced three pages beginning of his new novel when given a writing exercise. There was this me whose voice got choked in her throat when there was a dire urge to speak why she wants to write. I was kind of lost today. It generally happens with me. I am an introvert of a different kind where in I speak a lot in front of people whom I know and go dumb when in public gathering. May be it is a stage fright that makes me go dumb or I may be I am too lost in observing and analyzing others that I lose the count of timer and get startled when my name is called upon. I don’t speak, I know I cannot, I know. I can write, I know. This is how I communicate. This is how interact with the world around. I am a background artist, may be a voiceover artist for my persona.
- I left the class in the middle.
- I didn’t find it that interesting as I expected it to be.
- I am no public speaker and besides I could not speak when summoned to do so. I do not have that ability to mix up with people. Go out on my own and stretch an introductory hand forward. This makes me feel secluded and dejected. I feel as if I am torturing myself.
- My wedding issues were clouding my senses.
I am going for shopping tomorrow. In-laws are coming Delhi to purchase Bridal Lehenga for me.
Deepak would be disappointed with me for this escapism. I am sorry, but you know I am tired of all this…
Mani, still have no idea of what I am and what I had been through and why I resort to escape. He showed his resentment; I am sad about it, can’t help. I wish I could tell him what the matter is. Or maybe he can become my friend and know me. He understands but is not touching that understanding; this is what he said last….
Mum doesn’t want me to go for class. She says wedding, at this point should be your priority. And, I know my wedding had always been a priority and finally I am getting married. For her, my attending this workshop was good but not at the cost of my wedding preparations.
Sometimes I wonder what a phony life I have, living wishes, dreams, and desires of those whom I love. Am I losing significant me somewhere?