It has been so many days since I started writing. More than 2500 days.Not that numbers are any thing that matters.
And that is a journey in itself.From really bad formulation of words, to absolutely raw expression of feelings this path has taken me places.
From Messages to Whatsapp pings, Facebook posts and Instagram shares.
From feedback messages to spamming broadcast lists, from ”Nice 😊" , "Stop sending shit poems".
From I really don't understand your poems, too much of " high english " to simple outstanding word usage.
From "you are amazing , you have brought tears to my eyes" to great attempts at writing.
This journey has been more about the inner journey to learn and appreciate the small nuances of life. To give wings to thoughts and to take you on a journey through words, frames on a moving instant, caught in time and presented to you to savour, appreciate and find joy.
Not all times are as rosy as this. When the feedback is just Nice, or it is too harsh that you revisit your works again to really check your sanity. And my words have not reached you in the way I intended.
These are the times of learning. Learning to draw equal status to the relative pleasing feedback and the really gut wrenching raw feedback.
Not all the works are of greatness.
The world has grown to want perfectness so much that it has forgotten the lesser great or mediocre ones. And I am at times in a position to tell you a " Sorry " for sending such mediocre poems to extra ordinary people.
But the most amazing part of the night, is when the words start flowing , one word to a sentence , one sentence to a paragraph. And then to a poem or a story.
And then I am blessed when the thought has been put as a seed in your mind and then it starts its own story in your mind.
And making you smile, cry and revolt into action has a thrill that is uniquely satisfying.
The journey has also been about you, it has been about you. Through words, I have been able to connect to you in a way that only years of friendship can . Heard stories of yours that even bottles of wine couldn't have brought out.
A connection that has made us more than acquaintances, more than friends and most importantly has connected us without boundaries.
I have been spamming you, been asking you for opinions and feedback .
Truth is 99.9 percent of the time you may not see my works, it may be deleted after reading or without being opened. But it that portal of connection that opens everyday to .1 percent of people that makes this excercise worthwhile.
Close to 1000 people over 5 years have been a part of this ritual of being Pungidasa.
a sincere thank you to you for all the help, feedback.
And after so much spamming , if you still have saved my number, it must be a miracle in itself.
To grammar Nazis, the anti spam squad, the "shit poem" enthusiasts , this post is inspired by you !
I am Pungidasa, the word without a definition.
Feel free to define me in your words.
No comments:
Post a Comment