This time last year, I wrote this post about the importance of stories. Today I'm reminded of how important words, the building blocks of these stories, are to me. They have been my weapons to hurt with, my sugar to sweeten with, my rain to cool with, my friends to share with.
They've been my food and water and air.
I'm not sure what I would do without my words.Over the years, when I've been in the jungles of Bageshwar, or in the malls of Saket, a paper and a pen have been all that I've needed. And my heart and my brain have poured out on the backs of bills, old visiting cards, pieces of paper handed over to me by confused waiters at restaurants. And when I'm done, I'm almost always happy and relieved, and feeling like there has never been a better friend at that point of time than that piece of paper, or that keyboard and computer screen. But the truth is, my words can't ever disagree with me. They always show me what I want to see- they can't talk back. And for a girl like me, for whom talking back and speaking up is just so goddamn important, I'm beginning to realise how much of my conversations end up being with myself.
They've been my food and water and air.
I'm not sure what I would do without my words.Over the years, when I've been in the jungles of Bageshwar, or in the malls of Saket, a paper and a pen have been all that I've needed. And my heart and my brain have poured out on the backs of bills, old visiting cards, pieces of paper handed over to me by confused waiters at restaurants. And when I'm done, I'm almost always happy and relieved, and feeling like there has never been a better friend at that point of time than that piece of paper, or that keyboard and computer screen. But the truth is, my words can't ever disagree with me. They always show me what I want to see- they can't talk back. And for a girl like me, for whom talking back and speaking up is just so goddamn important, I'm beginning to realise how much of my conversations end up being with myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment