It’s been a long time since I wrote anything. The busy schedule of everyday life- which mainly involved swimming, sleeping and binge watching TV shows, gave me a little less than no time to pursue my passion. It’s funny how sometimes you forget about what you wanted to do, while fulfilling lesser interests. Almost a month of summer vacations has passed and yet my bucket list is as overflowing as ever. One of the most important things I had planned for the holidays was writing my blog. Writing a blog isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. During my free time, I found myself skirting around the task, not daring to step into the zone. Why? Because it’s hard work. Watching cliché soap operas on the other hand- not so much. A part of me-the self-loathing, guilt-intensifying part, triumphs as I succumb to the easy pleasure of watching vampires and werewolves tear themselves apart.
After much agonizing and self-motivating, I finally found the will to grab a pen and a notebook. I would love to tell you that as soon as my pen touched paper, my creative juices flooded in, my brain worked thrice as fast, my hand raced to catch up and after an hour or two of break-free writing, I had created one of my best pieces yet. Unfortunately, nothing of that sort happened. My mind was as blank as the paper before it. My fingers as rigid as the pen it was holding. I twirled my pen, spinning it around my finger, dropped it more times than I could count and yet, after sitting in suffocating silence for more than thirty minutes, my over imaginative brain had failed to cook up anything worth putting into words. It had failed when I needed it the most.
I started scribbling- not words- just random lines, circles and triangles. Doodling is one of those mildly annoying things I do. Personally, I think its because I’m at least 5 percent ADHD. Doodling helps me concentrate better, helps me think better. Before I even realized what I was doing, the whole page was filled with scrawny stick men and the names of random fictional characters. I sat back a moment realizing that I had just spent almost two hours of my time without a word to my credit. The only profitable thing that came out of this was that I realized I could have no career as a cartoonist. Defeated, I snapped my book shut and slammed my pen down in agitation.
I turned around to walk back towards my laptop in shame. As I was about to press the ‘resume’ button, it clicked. No, it was more like- a flash. A sudden streak of light illuminating my blinded vision. A bulb pulsating comically over my head. I scrambled across the room, flung myself before my book and started scribbling once more- not badly shaped humans this time, but actual words! And just like that, after months, I was back in my element. I had burned through my writer’s block. And when I had finished, I knew. I knew the struggle had been worth it.