User:Bhargavikerur

Writing

Writing earned me a livelihood. I wrote to earn that piece of bread, a roof above my head and cover myself. I did it for years. The writer's block never hit me then. Of course I would not deny that I would struggle to structure the information into comprehendible form in the initial days. But I will not attribute it to writer's block. As months and years passed by writing became part of me. I would experience withdrawal symptoms if I did not write.

That was a phase.

Then there came the second phase: writer's fatigue. I would give anything not to write. I have my reasons as to why it happened. I was content not to write. For once I did read, listen, question and was content not to ink them on a piece of paper. I was content. I did not miss writing. I did not miss the life when writing was my livelihood.

But then idle days had to come to an end. I got back to writing life. I went out in the morning to attend a science conference. I interviewed a scientist there. I came back to office and began typing word by word slowly. After 30 minutes of incessant typing of 600 words, I put a full stop. I felt drunk, I felt my blood was surging towards the brain. That was what you call the adrenaline rush. I realised only then the happiness writing brought to me. I continued writing.

The story does not end in a fairy tell here. The writing break was long this time. And it was not because of writing fatigue. It simply happened. It was so long that I feared I would never discover the happiness of writing again. When I tried to type a cohesive sentence, I failed. I felt terrible. I felt I had lost an important part of living. I would make attempts to write but it never gave me that happiness. I felt lost.

I have not lost hope that I will find it. It must be lying somewhere around. I will find it.