Nothing at all

Want to write
Sooooo much
Want to let my creative juices flow
But no
Nothing
Nothing at all

Never knew the writer’s block can hit so early and could be so frustrating.
Its strange when your fingers are itching to start typing, to write something, anything and yet your mind simply refuses to cooperate
It can come up with weird ideas and thoughts at the most inopportune of times and now, when you are almost begging it to think of something, it is in no mood to oblige.

It is so completely void of thoughts that all the yogis and rishis would be jealous of me. After all I managed to achieve without any effort, what may take them ages to master – a mind bereft of all thoughts of the mundane and not so mundane.

So much resides in the winding lanes of our mind. Thoughts and ideas and memories. Memories of places visited, of friends & acquaintances made, of love and hate, of books read and odors smelled. Of certain looks and feelings. So much information is stored within a mere 1400g of an organ.

Yet everything stored within your head is suddenly locked in an attic which becomes inaccessible. You may find the key to the lock suddenly in another minute or few or maybe a few hours and if you are really unlucky then who knows a couple of days.. a few days … months..?? Naah… that is probably going too far. But whatever the length of time that you will have to undergo this agony of looking for the key and not finding it, would seem like a millennium.

And then suddenly just as you sit down to finish the really important official report you had been putting off or finally get down to cleaning your almirah or maybe simply going to pee, a thought will emerge from deep within and will firmly lodge itself in the upper reaches of your cranium. No matter how important a task you were busy with you will become unsettled. Dying to start writing again. It could be the most unimportant of things that you would want to write about, the silliest and most commonplace things, but still you would be unable to stop that urge of stopping everything else and simply get down to writing. And write you will. Till your finger tips start hurting and your neck would start aching. Only once you have typed everything will you stop. And there in front of you will be your little master piece.

How does it matter if no one will ever read it or if people who read it are left wondering why on earth did you waste your time like that? How does it matter if everyone else trashes it? It was a novel experience. You will remember everything… all the frustration... the mind numbing emptiness and then the sudden rush of thoughts and ideas every time you will read it again. You may find many faults with it when you read it later but it would remain beautiful to your eyes just the same. The experience will form a part of the storehouse of memories in your mind and maybe it will spring up on you again someday, someplace in the future, when you are similarly at a loss of ideas.