The empty garden was made more beautiful with the presence of his friends. Separation had made them fonder in his eyes, and not that they were here, they couldn’t stop talking. Back and forth; it was like a dance.
A minute later, he was reminded he was alone in the room, hoping for what had already been lost. He stopped staring at the wall and switched on the television.
We recently had a creative writing workshop at college. The guy who conducted the workshop is a published author and an overall amazing dude, by the name of Heramb Sukhatankar. He gave us some amazing insights into the process of writing and the elusive gem that is inspiration.
He shared with us this outlandishly simple idea of ‘stealing’ creative impulses from sounds and images. He made us listen to a sound track for a few minutes and then note down words that came to our mind while listening to it. Feelings that were evoked, thoughts that were generated, emotions that flowed, memories that resurfaced, anything. As a result, the entire class came to a lot of words, often contrasting in nature, and he wrote some of them down for us. (The word I said was ‘nostalgia’. If I had the audio file, it would have probably made more sense, but just for future reference, I’m generally a nostalgic person. I reminisce a lot, while smiling away stupidly at the clouds.)
Mr. Sukhatankar then asked us to use the words we’ve listed and write something. A paragraph, a few lines, a story, anything. What I wrote, is what is above. The words I used from the list, are in bold face.
Now, for my inspiration for writing that. What deep memory, motive, desire, or emotion prompted me to write something like that? I think I’ll leave that for another day’s conversation.