Saturday, January 21, 2006
My Caferati* Experience
Jumping into the fray. Someone mentioned that writers who write for themselves and refuse to share their writing with others or discuss ways to improve their craft are being selfish. I tend to agree. Why write if you are only write for yourself? I mean, you don't qualify to be called writers if you see it as a private thing. Then you are a diary-ist (or something such).
This forum was conceived (I may be wrong) for writers who want to improve their craft and maybe in due course be published by magazines, newspapers, or publishing houses. Believe me there is a big industry out there looking for competent writers and the pay is unbelievably good. I for one am a technical writer and write for web-based businesses and BPO outfits. We have been desperately looking for writers and not getting any. That too, with a good salary package and perks to match.
If not, take creative writing. There are a whole lot of possibilities for creative writers. And, you are doing what you love and earning some money on the side.
Why I am committed to Caferati is because every since we first met at a sea shore somewhere in Bandra Bandstand I have improved tremendously as a writer and now know the basics of the craft, if not a little more. I can also recognize what is good writing and what is mere fluff.
* Caferati is a forum for Indian writers
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Today I received an email stating that my story "Flirting In Short Messages" will feature in the final list of stories to be published by Penguin in the Sulekha-Penguin "India Smiles Contest."
I didn't believe it. So I phoned the concerned person in Sulekha who confirmed the news.
Seems 2006 will begin on an encourging note, after a personal tragedy.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
06/01/2006 0:05 hrs
Losing your mother just isn't that simple. I had steeled myself, assured myself, with thoughts of "After all she has to die some day some time," but when it hit me, it was like nothing I had ever imagined. Total surprise, I wasn't prepared for the absolute shock, the slow unraveling of what a mother really means.
Mother died this day: 06/01/2006 0.05 hrs and I was by her side when she breathed her last breath. She had been there when I had taken my first tenative breath in this world. There is a mystery, a loss, a deep sense of disquiet. Words fail me.
Those of you still have a mother around, thank your stars. For a mother is as precious as the most pricey jewels. I posted the following poem on Caferati message board.
To My Mother
You loved me
You hated me
You left me this day 0.05 hrs
As you lay helpless
Your heart beating, so slowly
I don't know
Where your spirit
So strong, so feminine
Leaving this mask
Of death on your face.
I stare at you
As you lie dying
How can this corpse
Be my mother?
Mothers don't die
They create life from love
And keep nurturing the loveless.