As a writer, I am attracted to what is
complex, what cannot be seen through a naked eye. I am attracted to
those aspects of life which we tend to shove and push under our rug
in the course of our lives. I tend to draw attention to those moments
which most of us would tend to ignore. Because, sometimes they are
too uncomfortable. Because, sometimes they are too trivial. Also,
often times I am drawn to contradictions-- between human beings,
within the psycho-social world of one human being. Consequently, I am
attracted to writings that engage with the uncomfortable. I don't
think my writing has accomplished anything in the world yet. Neither
do I think it has reached that level, but the more I read and write,
I become convinced that the task of the writer is to de-mystify. To
rip apart the veils with which every aspect of our daily lives are
shrouded with. Yes, as a writer, I believe in a conscious engagement
with the power-structured which guide our lives. I am also
recognizing, that it is impossible to do so without an incessant
struggle to be a better person. It also requires a cruel recognition
of my own limitations as a social human being AND as a writer. But,
stopping there at that acknowledgement would NEVER be enough. The
hard part is to engage in that continuing struggle to confront and
surpass my limitations – both as a human being and as an artist.
Right now, as I am writing these lines, with the chilli boiling in my
kitchen-stove, I feel intimidated by the road that lays ahead of me.
I feel inspired too : the poem I am writing is progressing. I
finished today the monthly quota of my submissions. I am walking
ahead. Slowly, but surely.
