Words and Worlds

I just tripped across this line somewhere – err i dunno for sure if its quoted the same way. Well it just meant that “writing causes social schizophrenia”. Probably at the first look, the line seemed contradicting itself. Does one medium of communication be a block for another medium of communication? But with an afterthought i would hold true this statement.

I may have a bundle of reasons like lonely childhood, confused adolescence and instances of cynicism to relate to the butterflies that flutter in my stomach when i face a new crowd, a strange person. I have often been the mocking lot of my friends for the way i communicate at times. God alone knows the plight of those MBA guys whom i taught for 6 months ;P. 

 

I picked a book during a lonely trip to avoid a conversation and ever since, my handbag has a novel in it! Fretting over a friends forgetfulness made me resort to diaries, for fear of it being thought immature if i actually expressed it. I have been collecting diaries since then. I cook with reckless abandon if i have visitors so that i can confine myself to the kitchen & not actually face them ;P.

If I am to trace to the roots of such behavioural patterns! i think i can dig up to those days when written words were like the first drizzle to me – much awaited, never enough, cherished long after its gone! I fell in a tryst with words – the written pearls. I would sit by my window side in those lazy vacations, the entire upstairs was my kingdom and i would recollect a few famous lines thinking i was the best scholar around, would watch those strech of paddy fields and sit down with a pen & paper and act to myself that i was born to win the booker prize!!

                                                                                                                 

 

There I had discovered a haven! Words – the silent ones that can never criticize me, that can never get bored of my blabberings. I can write as i please, erase and rewrite! Its a world out here, so green that i neednt search any further. Why do i need those loud noises who call themselves words too! They give me back nothing but “out of the world stares” – (my husband still gives me that when he “happens to hear” my nonsense!), those mocking laughs, those cynical smiles!!!

Now can u call tht schizophrenia in any remotest sense? Now dont “call” it if at all u feel to – better write it down i prefer to read than hear it!