Last night I went to midnight mass, spent time with the carols, choirs, rejoicing with the Santa clause for a while returned home, slept till early morning. It was crazy to have a walk along the beach in the early hours that too next day of Christmas. I left my bike in the parking area, strode towards the beach with short pace. I can see one or two people sporadically walking, jogging. It was a strange peace with a cool breeze from the ocean, one would delight over the silence, but it’s disturbing. Nature’s delight over the disasters is amazing; it spreads peace all over the earth showing its pleasant attribute embracing its own creatures not showing the cunning intention to pounce on the unarmed innocents.
Getting inspired on a theme alone won't be productive, I want to keep my readers in trance, never I can expect my readers to read my work, or never I can force them too, I should give them a treat, the treat which they really love, the food which is delicious, the food which would give them content, the sense which would provide them they are fullfilled, the feel their money is worthy enough and they are not cheated.
The first and the ever stimulation is our life, living charectars, stories behind them, short, long, never ending, primarily without solutions, without remedy and conclusion or the conclusion not meeting up the desired one. A reader would never accept a story without conclusion, he has to be happy with a desired end, or the end should have a solution, a strong plot would always take you to the desired conclusion.
I spent several years searching for a desired story, story which inspires me, I discussed, chatted with several, whose life's future dangled aloof, I spent hours sitting in the barman chair with whisky, secretly admiring people, wondering their lifes. I walked miles in desolated streets wandering, at midst of traffic lonely vouyering people, stood on apex of hotel buildings watching the whole city with lights, the solitude helped me to go inside as introvert, I felt at ease my life is the only primary stimuli which inspires me lot.
I spread my vision as far I can around me, it’s vast stretch of sand cornered by the mighty ocean, a team of few just started to play shuttle cock on the left, right I can see few unused catamarans fishing nets dried to keep ready for the next mission. I walked towards the right; I yearn to gasp fresh air from the ocean, I love the early morning sea, mostly in early morning sea is calm, but I felt calmer than any early morning I witnessed. I have felt the calmness is extremely danger than a rough sea in a stormy season. The calm sea is like an erupting volcano waiting for the right time to hit.
Now I can see more people coming inside, most of them wearing jogging outfits, walking, jogging, some people were spreading out blankets to do yoga, youngsters drenching their legs in the cold saline. I am a great swimmer, I have swam in most of the rivers, dived, but if you ask me to step my leg in a sea, you can find me run, I was really surprised of these people, see if you ask them they know swimming most of them will negate.
I trace my memory, how & when such a fascination started, the greenish, bubbling when let out freeing from the clutches of heavily built forte structures, seemingly increased my love to get into swift current winning over the stealth gush. Morning till evening whenever and wherever I find gutter on a canal or lake, I surrender to the urge unable to suppress immediately, the greenish pond, transparent fine stream, ocean with endless waves, vast sea like lakes, fishermen with long poles in a raft, fishermen with fins in a kattumaran all excited.
The search for truth, the truth of our lives, truth of our future why we are here, search for destiny and the maturity gained while we pursue our goals stimulates a writer.
will be continued
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