Write for your life

The words have been swirling around in my head for some time now. But refuse to get flushed down into my bloodstream. Refuse to find their way to my fingertips and spill over onto this blog. They're probably clogging up somehwere.

I can feel an alliteration arrested near an artery. An idiom idling in my adam's apple. And if I hold my breath, I can hear my heart steadily thumping out an SOS. "WRITE" it says. "Write for your life".

What else is a writer's worth but a few well chosen words strung together with a string of logic to keep them from falling off? If that be the truth, and currency the measure, I would have to declare myself bankrupt.

And so, like a person who's just seen his cholesterol test report, I step out gingerly to jog my self back to a more acceptable shape. As a wordsmith.

I have been writing. But meaningless stuff like advertisements. For that is my trade. I am a pimp of attractive headlines. A seller of a voluptious bodies of sentences of high-falutin words made up to sound interesting. I'm the guy who writes gibberish like "We bring good things to life", and "Impossible is nothing". And I haven't even written anything that interesting.

I'm the 'Beena Mausi' who parades Lata, Neena, Ritu and the rest of the dirty dozen before podgy business men, not the slick Russian tout with a harem of 4 digit damsels.

Like junk food, junk writing can kill you. And I've been stuffing myself with it for 4 months. Now it's time to turn back to healthy writing. The sort that lets you sleep without reaching for the leftover Old Monk.

And so I find my feet again. Slowly but surely.