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In our first Writing Story this month, Deboshree Bhattacharjee says that she writes for delight’s sake. Read on and be delighted!
Deboshree, in her own words: Stories delight me and I tell them often. They lurk everywhere, around us and in hidden crannies. I like to look for them and then set them going. When I am not doing that, I am reading and reviewing books, travelling and studying media.
I remember reading of a girl who wanted to be a photographer so she would always have a camera. That way, she would never miss out on a moment of happiness. We may have become used to our cell-phones and the camera that comes with the package. But the delight of flipping through moments frozen on paper, unchanged by memory or time, is no less. My tryst with writing started on similar lines. From the desire to capture stories from my life, set to a background score of words, I have come to love telling tales of my own. Tales with people I carve and in places I construct.
It is a journey of its own, writing is. One that rouses me from the slumber of a worn-out day and takes me to vacation in foreign lands with bejewelled lakes. When the adage about being the master of your own destiny is all said and done, there are times in life when you are left helpless. At an utter loss. How can you then cultivate the strength to recreate your dreams and weave some more? For me, that strength comes from writing. By lending colour to a character’s life, I grow to believe that the colours will splash on to mine too. I get the power to dream, to do. To be liberated and carve a world just as I please, with all the freedom the heavens can muster.
I write about anything that strikes me as unusual or interesting. An incident at work, a goof-up with the clothes iron, an expectation that went downhill. Sometimes, when my world clouds over, it is only writing which stays by my side. Complete with words I had put together in happier times and hopes I had penned down for the days to come.
Sometimes, I dread the keyboard not cooperating. The thoughts not translating as I would like them to. And these are moments I am frightened of. But, when the December fog descends on a chilled Delhi, I reminisce the warmth that writing means to me. I recall the laughter on mom’s face when she reads about the antics of my neighbour’s dogs. With every page that is flipped, I relive the sights, the sounds and smells of that time in history – of that time in a world fondly imagined. It invigorates and enthralls me.
If for nothing else but the delight that reading a tale years down the line brings, I write.
Deboshree wins a gift hamper from Notex, a paper based stationary brand that makes high quality books, diaries, writing pads, 5 subject books and other products! You can check out Notex products at Shopo, Flipkart or Homeshop 18.
*Photo credit: Jude Doyland (Used under the Creative Commons Attribution License.)
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Homeschooling in India is having a moment. As families become increasingly weary of traditional schooling thanks to cookie-cutter policies and high costs, parents are opting for alternate methods of education
Homeschooling in India is having a moment. As families become increasingly weary of traditional schooling thanks to cookie-cutter policies and high costs, parents are opting for alternate methods of education.
Come Monday morning, homes with young families across the country are in a chaotic yet familiar dance. Ceiling fans are turned off, and lights turned on with a vengeance.
Teeth are cleaned, and breakfasts are shovelled down. Uniforms and shoes are thrown on, and heavy school bags are picked up as parents and kids alike make a mad dash for the door.
Your goals made you move to a new city. I saved my pocket money to call you from a local PCO since my house used to get itemized phone bills.
When I write this, I feel as if I am 19 years old again.
Could we rewind further to our childhood days as tiny tots and neighbors? Due to your dad’s job transfer, you had to move out of town. Our paths crossed again unexpectedly after a decade or more. Amidst the crowd, our eyes met unexpectedly at a family function. I recognized you, but I wasn’t sure if you remembered me. For the entire event, I kept looking for you and felt butterflies in my stomach whenever our eyes met.