Some of you might have heard of Ram Punyani. He is a wonderful person who speaks about non-violence, and social integration. He has a deep understanding about fundamentalist attitudes, and he talks in the simple language of the common idiot.
Two years back, I attended one of his classes and I got two chocolates to take home. One, he so looked, so spoke (content and style both) like my dear grandfather, that I could have kissed him. Second, he said, 'Nothing is ever achieved if you just sit at home. Nothing, other than writing a book.'
Of course, he was talking about Marx, but I got my justification. If I am at home, I must write a novel.
Since a few months, nay years, the thought of writing the second novel is bugging me. I promised myself, that I would start when the first one is published. Signing a contract with a publisher being as good as publishing, I have been looking out of the window for my muse.
Somewhere between yesterday and today, the writing angel has come home. Words have always surrounded me but now, the characters, the plot, the mis-en-scene, they can't wait. They flash past in visuals, sounds, dialogs, and they chose the most maddening times to tell their tale. When I am cooking, when I am cycling, when the lights have gone (this happens often in Bangalore).
Oof, I am so happy. I spoke with my sister, another novelist, on the phone today till my ears became warm. As I was narrating the structure to her, she told me in her usual diplomatic manner,
' It can be more interesting if you make it more interesting.'
Ha ha. These Mumbai girls, you know. It's not their fault, though. Its merely the effect of civilization.
But my muse is a goddess, she don't have no sibling rivalry, she told me to listen.
'It can be more interesting if you make it more interesting.'
Dumb as this may sound, it had a point. In fact, it had a pointer : The Creative License! I don't have to tell it like happened, I could go on a roll. I could spin the story wide, as long as I hold the whip at the center!