LeT Us nOt be iN rEaL....

Today, I could grab some time from the professional domain for myself, to be with my own world of thoughts. It is, therefore obvious, to write few words on Intrusion, as I recently noticed such an act happened to my blog sphere. An anonymous friend did some grammatical corrections to my blog. I don’t believe it is something which claim ovation, for the reason that there was an option of sending the corrections to my mail inbox and asked me to do the corrections, rather than sending “WHAT I DID” kind of mail to my inbox. Is that fetched her more gratification?? It is more unfortunate that this has happened from a researcher, who works in a field where ownership ethics are highly valued. The “anonymity” still remains, in spite of options to extend honest revelations and friendships. But my friend, those writings are not the results of long rumination, so that the language and the theme gets more refined and vivid. Those are the words getting released out of spontaneity, and I believe that as the soul of any creation. A formulated creative exercise might eliminate errors and fine tune the concepts, but many times it fails to deliver the pain the author feels during his move through the situations. Probably, that’s the reason why I read the poems of Chullikkad and Kamala Das, which has the power to transfer the pain to the reader and make him walk through their bygone path. It is true, sometimes these type of creations wont take you through the constant “adjectives” of poetry and writing, rather seems raw to feel the life in it. Having said this, I don’t deny the beauty of a well organized creative expression, which too make the audience immersed. But for me, I enjoy “beauty” in the later and “feel” in the former.

I prefer to keep my scribbling as raw as they get released. Let all our creations be informal and stretch beyond the boundaries of language and real, so that it might strike the unusual. I propose an art of boundless imagination, which creates a plethora for the creator and the audience immense illusions. Or let us have abstracts which offers timeless journey with the appreciator so that one could identify oneself as the author in every situation. All these because, the real is too harsh to accept and it bangs on you all time.

Anyways, I do appreciate the frequent messages and previous mail she has send asking about my silence. It is also nice to know that some unknown person, sitting at the other end of the world is reading my “spontaneous nonsense”. The answer is, the official schedule didn’t allow to scribble anything.