An Exercise in Writer’s Block

Recently, I’ve been meaning to write many many things, but every time I try, things don’t come out right. I’ve been trying to stay patient, thinking ‘somethings going to happen, it’s bound to!’ (also said the man with erectile dysfunction. SNAP), but nothing did happen. All I ended up with was a chunk of meaningless Paulo Coelhoesque dribble.

So finally, I decided to just fuck it and write about what I’m doing. Can’t really hurt can it? And the fact that I’m perpetually doing something also supplies sufficient material. So here goes, the unedited continuous nonsense centering around my current activities:

The plane hurtled through the air, but on account of its almost excruciating tininess, it was more like a little capsule hurtling through the long intestine that is the stratosphere. It was one of the smaller planes, without all that ‘jet engine’ metrosexual poofy nonsense that’s all the rage these days. Instead, it had little black exposed rotors that suspiciously kept the plane in the air.

Anirban Chakraborty sat on the window seat at the rear of the plane looking through the window and half expecting the wings to flap.

It was a plain plane at best, without any class distinction as such-everybody got the same kind of seat. They still however wrote ‘economy’ on your ticket so you would know your place in the aero kingdom.

Anirban yawned and stretched as they cut through the sky elegantly, appearing to be motionless against blue pastel background, but actually moving because planes usually have to go somewhere. I’m guessing.

‘This is a no smoking flight’ said the hurried, heavily accented voice of an air hostess over the communication system.

They all are, thought Anirban. They all are. He played with the ashtray that was in his seat from days when that announcement did not have to be made. A happier time.

‘..Smoking in the toilets is also forbidden’

Well they’re part of the fucking flight aren’t they? Thought Anirban. He returned his attention to the corpus of the ashtray. Yes. He gingerly pulled it out of the the seat- it opened slowly. There was no ash inside. Just emptiness. Half expecting a burnished interior but finding-

‘Smoke detectors are installed in the bathroom-’

FUCKING REALLY? WE GET IT said Anirban. Perhaps out loud. Judging by the looks of the passengers around and the man sitting next to him slowly edging away, it was probably out loud. Or maybe he’d just grimaced. Or maybe they had traced the source of erstwhile occurring flatulence. It could have been anything.

An air hostess stopped in the aisle by the row he was sitting in.

‘What would you like sir?’ she asked in a softly lilting voice. She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes that no prosaic language can express. Well truthfully, he wasn’t sure, but she was wearing what is best described as an upside down blue tin on her head. Such things can only bring sadness.

‘Sir?’ she asked again and she continued to smile. She was well proportioned; quite buxom. A fine ribs-to-funbags ratio. She looked at Anirban, her smile fixed. He felt a rush of feeling toward her. Most of that feeling was concentrated in a particular region, but at the same time he felt a hint of disgust. A hint of disgust that had no place being, yet was.

And suddenly- there was silence. He pondered his ambivalence, mulling it over in his mind, oblivious to the silence, the hum of the engine, the vibration of the plane-

‘Sir can you stop typing?’ she said finally to Anirban, who turned and flashed her a charming smile while continuing to type with one hand. A feat he could accomplish, because he was fucking awesome.

‘Yes m’lady’ he replied handsomely. This is also possible to do.

She tittered at being addressed in such a fashion. She was, after all a waitress in the sky and he, a liberal serving of man candy.

‘What would that be?’ she asked Anirban, who hadn’t replied yet because it takes much longer to type with one hand.

‘A whiskey’ breathed Anirban, dangerously.

‘Sir, we do not serve alcohol on domestic flights’ she said. Her mouth was probably wry, but this fact lay unverified on account of the aforementioned ribs-to-funbag ratio, coupled with the fact that Anirban had only two eyes.

‘Ah’ said Anirban, leaning back in his seat, stroking his chin with his free hand.

‘This is a domestic flight?’ he asked.

‘Yes sir’

‘I see’ said Anirban. This complicated matters slightly.

‘And where does this flight go?’

‘New Delhi, sir’ said air hostess funbags.

‘Dash it all!’ exclaimed Anirban for no particular reason, striking the tray of the person to his left, as his tray was occupied by his laptop, and no one hits the Macbook.

‘FUCK!’ screamed the man next to Anirban, whose groin had been splashed with hot coffee caused by table-banging. (The boring kind of table banging. It is also useful to note that there is no interesting kind EDIT: OMG yes there is.)

The air hostess was quick to begin to mop the spill. And leant over the man, undoing her scarf-

‘Sir, could you stop doing that?’ she said to Anirban, who was now loudly humming 70s porno music, while winking at her.
People are ungrateful, thought Anirban and resumed typing with both hands.

The flight landed in Delhi and Kanan sat in the airport terminal, having a few hours to kill before his next flight to Bangalore.

Now Anirban sat at the airport, with an hour more to kill. He proceeded to the smoking lounge, doing his best to look business-like. He struck up a conversation with a middle aged man, who was looking into Anirban’s laptop screen and was OVERWEIGHT and beginning to lose his hair and possibly the function of his genitals

“Hello” said the man, smiling benignly.

“Top o’ the mornin’! ” replied Anirban cheerfully.

“Uh..”

“Yes.”

“I’m [not paying attention and even if I was, I’d have forgotten by now] ” said the man. “Saurabh, actually” said the man, who Anirban had forgotten was still looking into his laptop screen the motherfu-

“I’m a business man” replied Anirban stiffly, brushing off the shoulders of his Spongebob T-shirt.

“Of course you are” said fucking douchebag who was wouldn’t stop looking into Anirban’s screen.

“Lets cut to the chase shall we? Who are you?” said Anirban, in an business-like fashion.

“I just told you I’m [still not paying attention]

“So you are” said Anirban. “Listen, what do you want? I’m kind of in the middle of something right now”

“Uh. You started a conversation with me, and then pretended like I started it. I can’t help but notice that that fact is not reflected in whatever you’re writing” said the pretentious douchebag who continued to eyeball fuck Anirban’s screen because of his general ineptitude and lack of understanding of PERSONAL SPACE.

“I try to be as accurate as possible” snapped Anirban.

“Can I ask you why exactly you’re doing what you’re doing?” asked the man, who we may now note had stopped looking into Anirban’s laptop screen. Bitch.

“I have writers block” said Anirban woefully. “This is a desperate attempt to overcome it”

“Ah. So you’re a writer!” said the man.

“Very much sir. Very much” said Anirban, moving a little closer to the man.

“So you write, books, screenplays, articles, what?” said the man.

“I..er. I have a blog.” said Anirban.

“Oh” said the man. “thats..uhm..”

“I’m a student!” cut in Anirban, quickly.

“So you’re studying writing then? Or just some general English litt. course?”

“Umm. Kinda. Well, in the sense that it’s less writing and more engineering”

“So you’re an engineer” said the man, with a trace of disappointment in his voice.

“Engineering student” replied Anirban, feeling continuously worse as this conversation proceeded.

“Don’t feel bad about it” said the man, who it appears had begun to look into Anirban’s laptop screen again, the nosy little bitc-

“I’ve stopped looking” said the man quickly, causing Anirban to stop gritting his teeth ferociously.

“Think about it bro” said the man, who for some reason felt that he had reached bro status. “Writers get writers block, musicians the same, creative fields are dominated by words to express a lack of creativity, but really they’re just general slumps. And slumps happen in every field. Even engineering” he said, with unnecessary drama.

“Achieve to be the highest you can be, and persevere through the slumps, that’s just life. Be all you can be, reach the highest possible platform, the zenith, rise up to the sun-”

“SUN BLOCK!” said Anirban. “Sorry. Necessary joke, but too easy. Carry on”

“I’m going to leave” said the man.

But Anirban beat him to it. He may have failed to push the man down the stairs. At that might also have been a completely different man. He may also have spent the next hour hiding in a coffee shop till they called for his flight’s boarding. Prove it.

As he boarded his next flight, he realized that weird nosy laptop screen staring man had an extremely valid point. Maybe writer’s block was like sun block. It shielded the skin from writing and prevented rashes and tanning.

That’s what life is really about.

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Happy Birthday, Brother!

Day 19

You know, ever since childhood, I always wanted a sibling. I’d see my friends with siblings in school, who’d talk about how they played together and did fun stuff, or maybe fought over a little toy, and I’d always wonder what it would be like to have a brother. To have someone to call your own. Someone you can share your secrets with, someone who you can call up in times of distress, and most importantly, someone you can trust to be on your side through the odds and evens of life.

I call you brother because that’s what you are for me. My brother from another mother.

And we go a long way back, don’t we? And now that I stop for a moment and reflect back on the past, the days bygone, I can’t somehow manage to recollect the first day we met. It’s like we’ve always been friends, only the friendship strengthened after a point in time.

You’ve been one heck of a guy right from the start. One of my earliest associations in college, you came in as a whiff of fresh air amongst the several other wannabe-suave guys that crowded our department. I’d introspected on it a lot, on what is it really about you that makes you so effortless. So simple. And from what I’ve seen of you in the past two and a half years, it’s been one of the greatest lessons of my life – when the world is running after abstraction, you are exceptionally uncomplicated.

I can’t help but think at this moment how would my life be without you. I know there are other friends, but none like you, who knows every detail of me. Nobody knows which the right words in the right time are like you do. We’ve laughed at each other, and we’ve laughed with each other and I can’t thank you enough for everything that you’ve done for me, for standing with me in times when I needed you to, for making me feel good, for not being judgmental with all my nuisances, and for extending the mental support that you do.
I know I don’t open up as much, but I think your birthday is the perfect moment to tell you all that I don’t in a normal day, to extend my gratitude, and to tell you how important you are to me.

On this day, I wish you prosperity and greatness, health and wisdom, and I pray you get all that you crave and succeed in every endeavour you undertake. I wish you a very happy birthday.

Love
Your Friend

The Laws Of Study Vacations

Day 13

Over the past few days, I’ve made a remarkable observation – the laws governing study vacations are as fundamental as Newton’s laws of motion. Here is a comprehensive guide :

Law of diminishing returns – During the study vacation, there is, on average, a 10% decrease in the total amount of studying that is done on any given day, as compared to the preceding day.

This trend, however, is abruptly reversed and accompanied with a sudden surge in both vigor and panic, at a specific point in time (the “break point”) which usually occurs no earlier than 48 hours before the start of the exam (by which time, of course, the outcome of the examination has become inevitable, and the probability of altering it tends to zero).

Law of failed adherence – No timetable, without exception, however well-planned and seemingly practicable, will ever work as planned or be successfully implemented. This holds good for timetables that extend over months, weeks, days, hours, or even intervals of 10 minutes.

Law of extraneous influences – In the process of attempting to study, all things unrelated to the study material become supremely fascinating, and the student feels an obsessive and compulsive need to stare at blank walls, update blogs and play Criminal Case.

Law of successful recollection (applicable primarily to science students) – If the student possesses the ability to recollect, with reasonable accuracy, just one paragraph from one page after intensive reading for one hour, then the period of study shall be deemed to have been sufficiently productive.

Law of wishful thinking – Every student begins to incessantly replay some impossible fantasy in his/her mind, always ending with some disastrous event (like a gigantic asteroid hitting the college) that results in the cancellation of the approaching exam.

P.S. No asteroid did, unfortunately, crash into my college. I checked.

A Letter To Nobody

Day 11

So, I’m quite certain that I shouldn’t send this email because you’ll probably think that I’m a crazy person and kick me to the curb, but oh well. I’m bored and can’t sleep due to waking up about an hour ago thanks to a lovely dream wherein you made yet another appearance in the theatre of my mind.

I am not the type who places any stock in dreams, or thinks that they have any deep meaning. More likely it’s just my brain struggling to make sense of all the random shit that I conjure up during the day in this boiling cauldron that is my subconscious.

This dream however, was interesting, in the sense that I don’t recall having any thought about this certain subject in relation to you, at least not in a very long time. Its been more like I’ve just assumed the combo of our rapidly advancing ages, your aspirations, and our apparent contentment with being alone would make this an impossibility, so I haven’t even bothered to contemplate it. Yet, there you were, carrying my baby.

The first flash of you in such a state was of some intimate moment between the two of us, each laying on our sides, facing each other in a bed I didn’t recognize. We were naked, but it wasn’t a sexual thing. More so it was the comfortable nakedness that only two longtime lovers could share. We were laying there, simply talking, as our heads rested on our respective pillows. For some reason it was hard to take our eyes off of each other as we talked, maybe there was just no other place worth looking in our minimalistic themed bedroom? Or perhaps our respective faces were the best possible thing we could each imagine getting to drink in to start the day? I know for me, yours has always been better than a cup of coffee. Although, for you….I know you’d definitely choose your Morning Joe over my mug every single time. Nonetheless, drink we did.

The Saturday morning light sliced through a crack in our bedroom curtains and lit up your smile even more so than usual. Now, I don’t remember what inane topic we were babbling on about, but what is important is that as you smiled, I laughed, and while doing so I reached my left hand out and placed it on your side, resting on that smooth curve just below your ribs that leads ever so gracefully towards your hips. My fingers gently traced their way down your silky skin, and it was suddenly quiet, save for the chirping of some random bird in our backyard. You still looked into my eyes, you still smiled, but your topic of conversation had faded away into irrelevance, you placed your right hand on mine and gently moved it down towards your swollen navel.

“Feel her?” You said, “She’s kicking again, this one is gonna be fiesty.”
“So, just like her mom then?” I replied, with a smirk.
You nodded…

And then I awoke.

CityVille Chronicles

Day 1

I didn’t expect three days of holidays to turn out to be so unbelieving boring.

So boring, in fact, that I unblocked CityVille and actually gave it a shot. I now have a city hall with 100+ people living in my thriving city, which is very imaginatively called ‘My City’. And I can’t even change it.

It said it’d only allow me to play if I agreed to give it a bunch of permissions, one of which was to mark my unread notifications as ‘read’. I didn’t really understand what that was for, but assumed it was an anti-spam feature. Spam them but don’t let them know they were spammed. It’s a win-win for everyone.

Pity the anti-spam thing didn’t include emails as well, since I got two mails already telling me that I can claim my very own fountain for free. I’m sure the city people would’ve loved a new fountain but when I clicked the link, it started being very evasive and told me the page wouldn’t load or something.

I have nothing to do now.

The Writing Challenge, Oh Yeah!

I don’t really have a good excuse for not blogging for this long a time. And I’m not going to pretend to be hugely engrossed in my studies either, all this while.

Blogging isn’t easy to keep up with, I will tell you that. And it is definitely not for everyone. I’ve always believed that people write to be read someday. And as much as I like to live by that creed, I realized I wasn’t very comfortable with my friends reading my posts on Facebook and then haranguing me asking who they were about. So, voila! I found WordPress!

Blogging to me has never been about the number of followers. Or the number of likes and comments that I get on my posts. And as much as I am overwhelmed with all the appreciation that I get, it never fails to amuse me that what I used to scribble once on the back pages of my diary now transcends geographical boundaries to reach so many people. And if you really think about it for a while, it seems almost magical.

Enough with philosophy.
I’ve decided to write regularly again. And this time I really want to do it right. So, here is my plan :

100 Days of Writing

The name is self-explanatory, I think. The person taking up the challenge writes a post a day for 100 days straight.

What’s the big deal, you think? It’s been proven to :

  • Improve your overall writing skills
  • Help you put thoughts to words better
  • Be honest with your writing
  • Think more creatively and concisely 
  • Be happy

I have a friend take up the challenge with me, and he is as pumped up as I am. And in case you are wondering, he blogs here. You can take the challenge too, if you’re interested. All you have to do is tag #100DaysofWriting to your post. Looking forward.

10 Blog Posts Every Blogger Has To Write

I have been reading WordPress blogs for months now, and I have noticed that certain types of blog posts are more common than others. So I thought I’d aggregate these most common blog posts into just one short post for your enjoyment. Alternatively, you can use this post as your blogging guide which will save your valuable time by providing you with the pre-written template blog posts that you can simply copy and paste into your blog.

 I was planning to write a separate post about 10 most common blog photos, but this woman is in 9 out of 10 of them.

I was planning to write a separate post about 10 most common blog photos, but this woman is in 9 out of 10 of them.

1) Hello, World!  This blog will be a platform for my thoughts about me, myself, my thoughts about myself, and occasionally about _____, _____, what I think about this, and Megan Fox. I will write as often as I can, since I usually think daily about different things, I think. See, I’ve just thought again! I better start posting stuff right now!

2) The Day Of Outrage:  I don’t normally get outraged about things, but ______ was outrageous! Did you see how outrageous that was! You didn’t? This is so outrageous that you haven’t seen it yet! You gotta check out just how outrageous this was! See! Told you! Wasn’t it outrageous? Please share your outrage in the comments section, because I’ll be outraged if you don’t!

3) The Away Message:  I apologize, my dear readers, for leaving you without your daily fix of information about me, and temporarily abandoning my blog for almost three hours. I am really sorry that you had to put your life on hold because you did not know what’s going on with my life. But I was busy with things. It’s not like I don’t have a life, you know? Haha. Honestly, I promise to write three times a day from now on. It’s not like I really have a life, you know? Haha.

4) Search Terms Of Endearment:  I have to share the good news with you! I am on Google now! Yes, you can enter something in Google and it will find my blog! Isn’t it cool? And apparently, people enter completely random things and still find my blog! Check out this hilarious search term: ______. Isn’t it hilarious? And what about this: _________? Even more hilarious, right? And this: ___________. What’s up with that?? Hilarious. But you know, seriously, even though all these result are hilarious and all, but the search for “most totally amazing blog ever” doesn’t lead to my blog for some reason. I’m gonna have to call Google because I think there is a problem with their search.

5) The Freshly Pressed Hangover (posted the morning after). Thank you everyone for such thoughtful comments! I have never seen so many thoughtful comments saying “Congrats on being Freshly Pressed” ever! It is so great to be Freshly Pressed! It’s like a total vindication of my life’s work! My blog got so many page views that my computer totally crashed! Well, I was actually jumping for joy, and my foot tripped over the wire and my computer actually crashed! But now that I am a famous blogger, I have bought a bigger and better computer to write bigger and better posts!

6) The Guest Post: This amazing post is brought to you by the amazing blogger named ______ . He/she won’t be writing about me today, which is sad, but I get a day off from my blog, which is good. Please check out his/her work, he/she’s almost as amazing as me. But please read all my amazing posts first! You don’t actually have to read them if you don’t have time, but please click on them at least! Then come back tomorrow and read them! Or just “like’” them.

7) Gems From The Junk Filter:  Check this out! I just found out that WordPress is blocking some of the comments on my blog! These people have been leaving the nicest comments like “this is an excellently wrote post”, or “I have learning so much from this site”, or “your qualification is for among the best blogs of the internet”. Why does WordPress block these comments??? Who are they, grammar Nazis or something???

8) The Traffic Report:  Check out this picture. This is my page views stats. This looks just like Manhattan skyline, doesn’t it? I removed the numbers so you don’t get jealous. At least I hoped you would get jealous but I wasn’t really sure you would, so I deleted the numbers just in case. And then here is the next month, and it now looks more like New Jersey skyline. And look, here is this month, and it looks just like Nebraska. At least I think it looks like Nebraska, because I flew over it once and from up there Nebraska looked completely flat and sad, just like my recent traffic. Where is my traffic? Why isn’t anyone reading my blog??? I hate Nebraska!!!

9) My Amazing Cat:  My cat is totally amazing. It is so warm and fuzzy and smart. I wish my cat could write a post for my blog. I just know this post would have been so warm and fuzzy and smart that it’s gonna get Freshly Pressed instantly and I would get traffic again. I need traffic! Where is my traffic! Damn you cat! Write the post now!!! And make it warm and fuzzy and smart, damn it!!!

10) The Trends I Am Seeing:  I have been reading blogs for months now, and I have noticed that some types of blog posts are more common than others, so I thought I would aggregate them for your enjoyment and make fun of all of them at once. And when you’re out of ideas for your next blog post, this might just be your save!

Ah! Now I’m completely out of ideas!