It’s been long since I have written something here, and I am sure many of you must have forgotten me in my absence. A blog that once was at its peak; now sitting quite like an Indian soldier’s wife, who spends most of her days waiting for her husband’s return from the border. Someday her husband will return and she is going to share every little instance that has occurred in his absence with him. She waits for his arrival to show those treasured pictures of their child when he walked for the first time, when he no more felt the need of a support to sit… those fleeting moments of their child that would never appear again in their lifetime.
We all share the same relationship with our blogs, just as a soldier and his wife. We want readers so that we can share our happiness, precious moments, our ideologies and how we view the world and its offerings. Blog sometimes works as an outlet to our pain, frustration and agonies. Blogging sometimes makes breathing easy for most of us.
But you may ask if I realize all this, why did not I blog all these days. If not, then you can ask me now. Does not matter whether you have asked me or not, I am going to answer anyway. After all I am writing a post after a long time and I am ignoring the word count, the grammar, and the punctuation; … everything that sometimes stops us from communicating straight from our hearts.
Now to answer all of you I was busy writing, rewriting, editing (not actually, I am not good at this) and lastly licking feet of various publisher’s that every author has to go through to give birth to his first ever brainchild in form of his debut novel. Mine is a story about love, friendship, family, Indian tradition and rules of Indian society that we have to follow willingly or unwillingly.
Now here also few among you may ask- why did I choose a love story for my debut novel? The answer from my mind would be, In India it sells well (means really well). But since the start, from my heart I have felt that if I wanted to picture pain, agony, harsh realities then the canvas had to be of love.
In every love story the boy meets a girl. Then one of them (in most cases, if it’s based in India) or both of them (in few case, those we later term as made for each other) start falling for the other/each other. Now if the couple live in abroad, or in big cities of my country then one fine day they had sex and that makes their bond stronger; and if they live in small town of my country they still have to imagine things without experiencing them to make that bond stronger. To end the story, there are only two options left for the writer irrespective of the place the couple live, either a happy or sad.
Am I going to offer you the same story? I really do not know. Love will remain same. I hope the journey of those two hearts will not be same like you have experienced before. Sitting in another country I hope and expect I would open the bed room door of a common young Indian for you to enter and get a glimpse of life he lives, relationships he shares, dreams he experience, friendship he values, agony he bears and memories he treasures. While pressing that soft pillow under your chest, I hope to make you think like an Indian lady and expect you to react like she reacts to her issues, her problems, her aspiration, her confusion.
If I am going to achieve that, I believe my struggle of last two years while writing this one worth it. I know I am not good at summarizing things; so what I was up to during all those days of my absence from blogging is not as easy as it may be for most of you. So to keep it simple, I can only say the last two years of my life was for my book, for my book’s characters and for the journey they had to go through. Few weeks left, before I can at last see those characters entering your place, sharing their journey with you; so I thought I could not have better time to look back at my own journey of past two years.
The word count suggests 710 words; it means I have already taken lots from your precious time. So thank you guys for like always guiding me, blessing me and loving (if I’m not wrong) me and giving me that confidence to write a novel although few years back, two of my own countrymen rejected me for a couple of jobs as I stammer while conversing in English. My keyboard works perfectly fine unlike my tongue that sometimes fails to coordinate properly with my mind to articulate my thoughts in words, so I assure you that you would not get a little hint of the author stammering while reading this book. :)
It will be a lie, if I say I am not nervous or anxious as the publishing date is approaching near. But yes, for me that day will mark an end to one of the most challenging yet satisfying journey I ever had. By God’s grace I may someday write a better book (it would be difficult though), but this novel will always remain special. I know I can never give half amount of effort to another like I have given to this one.
I hope I am not sounding like I am promoting my novel. As people say, it’s not the destination… it’s the journey that is beautiful. So I thought I must share some of that beautiful journey with you all beautiful people.
(Forgive me for all the typos, grammatical errors… blah… blah… It’s already 01.44 AM and I am too tired to be concerned about those ;) )