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She just crept up inside my thoughts and then refused to leave.
Hi. I am writer. I have a muse. She is a broken, escapist. She is a runaway who has always settled for the easiest way out of any difficult situation in her life. I won’t tell you her name, because even if I did, she is not someone you have heard about. She is not famous, she is not extraordinary. She is fictional, and she is a woman who exists only in my head.
The funny thing about my muse is she doesn’t inspire me to write. Often, I end up not writing anything for days because of her.
Then why I chose her, you ask. I did not. She just crept up inside my thoughts and then refused to leave.
When I first saw her through the fog of my thoughts, she was just an apparition. A shadow sitting in a train compartment. With time she has become more real. Now I know that when she was eight she had a huge fight with her brother over eating mangoes. That when she was twelve she thought she could become a singer. That when she was thirteen she no longer wanted to become a singer. That after that she never wanted to become anything. Since then she had become pretty much inconsequential. Until one day she crept up in my thoughts, and gradually began bugging me into writing her story.
But you said your muse didn’t let you write, you say. I stand my ground. She doesn’t.
While she wants me to write her story, she doesn’t tell me her story. I ask her and she evades my questions. Once in a while she mumbles something about her life and I take note. I have to be alert constantly, lest I miss any of her mumblings.
Despite her reluctance to share any information, she won’t stop bugging me. So much so, that I can’t write about anyone else until I finish writing her story, and that’s going to take some time.
So, that’s about me. What’s your story?
Image via Pixabay
I am a writer who loves to daydream about food and has her nose in books. I can give amazing relationship advice, bad at following one though. You may detect a hint of sarcasm in read more...
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The issue arose with the last name of the child. Mihal insisted her husband’s second name should be added as he had passed away when Sonu was in college.
Sonu and Roopa were all excited to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary. It was even more special as they had just welcomed their bundle of joy in their lives. It is been just a week. Sonu’s mother Mihal wanted to have the naming ceremony as well on the same day.
While the preparations went on with inviting guests, booking the best event management team, and the buffet menu for the night, Mihal concentrated on the little one’s name. According to their family astrologer, they agreed on the name Sonia. Sonu was from Kolkata while Roopa was from South India. They followed all the religious rituals from both sides of the family and hence because of that their marriage took place without much hassle.
One of my friends told me that her husband criticized her for locking her phone, whereas the husband never allows her to touch his phone and locks it in the cupboard.
Early in the morning of May 23, 2023, around 6 a.m., I got a call from my cousin from abroad.
While speaking, he told me how he took care of me as a child. He might be two years older than me, but we studied together. So, calling him by name was not at all a problem for me. I was too sleepy as I went to sleep late the previous night.
While talking, he said, “We gave you freedom.” My eyes were sleepy, but the mini-me in me awakened me to reply to him, saying, “Freedom is not to be granted by others. It is to be lived by everyone. Men always think that they are the owners of freedom, and they control their mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters!”
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