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Life is a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

The act of creation — it leads me to unknown places. Only to make me realize that all was known, always. And yet, I live every day with the hope that I’ll explore, create and grow into someone new. Because what’s life if not a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

In this journey, music lives by my side. I find melody in my writing, and a lot of writing in my melodies. Sometimes, I hear songs in the bubbles of boiling tamarind water. Or in the stroke of red paint over the canvas. Or in the giggles of a child after a good joke. Tunes find their way even into my boredom, curiosity and the thoughts in between. And a rhythm taps into my sorrow, so it can take the leap to laughter.

Such is music. Such is life — yours and mine.


As voidly as i gape, thingsunfold

I had been doing a lot of gaping yesterday. Was reading this.

Somewhere in the section 1. Ignore Everybody , hugh quotes about getting views for what you created/made from people/friends etc.

"And asking close friends never works quite as well as you hope, either. It's not that they deliberately want to be unhelpful. It's just they don't know your world one millionth as well as you know your world, no matter how hard they try, no matter how hard you try to explain."

This instantly reminded me of my college days when i was leading the magazine release for my college as the Cultural Secretary and i had appointed one of my college-mates as the literary incharge.

It so happened that in one of my non-creative moods, i decided i wanted one of my writings to be published too. I wrote some stuff and decided to pass it on to the literary incharge under 'Anonymous entry' , so it would not be a compulsion to consider it for publishing. During some other time, i showed it to one of my real close friends , she read it through and thought that prose was beautiful!

Two days later, i have the edited finalised entries for the magazine and i dont find my entry in it. I did not bother and cleared it for publishing but was obviously curious. I met the incharge, who now happens to be a Stanford graduate and plainly put up my query:

ME : Hey, i saw an anonymous poetry in the list of entries the other day, what happened to that?

BH : Holy crap, i dont even know what it meant!

May be the last time i thought of doing some purpose-ful poetry ever! :)

A lot of that thing on that site leaves me gaping!