Strings of #marigolds on window panes. A home lit up in #fairy#lights . Faint aroma of #henna . #Sweet boxes getting empty. #Hugs being exchanged between old and new, known and unknown. Impromptu poor #dance performances. Many, many cups of tea. Rides to and fro the salons. Fabrics, so soft. Shine of jewels. Homemade #food ...no one talking calories! #Dhobi getting far more importance than the #groom . Midnight meals and stories. Moments finding their space in camera phones. #Cousins , #friends , aunts, uncles...breathing as one. #Blessings of the elders, giggles of the young. When you forgive and forget the past, and make way for the new. No doorbells, required. The #wedding home, where there is space for everyone. Opening up your arms to welcome a #relation , so new. Flipping up the #family#album to narrate and remember tales of the days gone by. Chants from the pooja. Promises to keep, cherish. Echo of laughs, conversations. And then a #goodbye . Until, the next #family wedding. When once more, our #hearts will be filled with #love , #warmth , and #happiness . For, it's not everyday that life gets painted with such #blessings .
#Writing is a #lonely#job . It is not how it looks from the outside — sitting on a #desk in a #cosy corner of a #room with a hot cup of #coffee . It’s not so — my coffee often gets cold even before I reach for it, and I’ve experienced anxiety even as I’ve sat in my favourite spot. In fact, some don’t even think of writing as a job. Writing is about closing the #doors to the outside world to create one of yours. The people who live in this world are #strangers , who ask all kind of questions and suffer from many types of quirks. They make you uncomfortable at every step and with every #word . But, you need the words, so you learn how to be patient and kind. You learn to forgive yourself for the time spent staring at the screen or on the sheet of the paper. Writing is about getting nervous when you don’t have an answer. It’s about restless nights when the characters refuse to talk back or when they refuse to stay quiet. It’s about being locked up inside four walls until you reach The End i.e. if there is one. This job is not fancy, very few writers will tell you so. It’s a mix of anxiety and insomnia, just as it is about smiles and sighs. #TheTreesToldMeSo has been all this and more; and now it is yours.
#thetreestoldmeso#books#indian#author#publishing#authorsofinstagram#writing#writers#writersofinstagram#words#shortstory#stories#fiction#indianfictionwriter#indianfiction#life#relationships # self-love #selfcare
As a #writer you have to be many things. You have to be strong enough to not get moist eyed in times of #loss . You have to be weak enough to fall in #love with the wrong one. You have to be silly enough to fall in the trap and make #mistakes . You have to be #optimistic enough to cry all #night , yet wake up with a #smile each #morning . You have to be giving enough to accept the strange and different. You have to be forgiving enough to look into the mirror each day. You have to be angry enough to break the glass, hurt the hand and pick up the broken shard again. You have to be happy enough to share the daily cup of coffee with someone you chose. You have to be courageous enough to swim in dark waters. You have to be #beautiful enough to let the zits grow. You have to be desperate at times, to let someone #hug you, hold you. You have to be confused enough to pull away when to push. You have to be far enough to know what walking a mile means. You have to be close enough to sense the distance. You have to be monochrome enough to note down the day the #rainbow shows. You have to be small enough to absorb in the heights. But most importantly you have to know when to pause enough. #Pause and let your character think for itself. Pause and let your character listen to its voice. Pause and let your character question itself. Pause and let your character feel for itself.
You have to know when to pause. It's these pauses that led to #thetreestoldmeso . Each time, I get a note from a reader saying the book made them pause and question-wonder, I think to myself - I must have paused when I needed to.
The trees speak so little, you know.
They spend their entire life meditating
and moving their branches.
Just look at them closely in autumn
as they seek each other out in public places:
only the oldest attempt some conversation,
the ones that share clouds and birds,
but their voice gets lost in the leaves
and so little filters down to us, nothing really.
It's difficult to fill the shortest book
with the thoughts of trees.
Everything in them is vague, fragmented.
Today, for instance, on the way to my house
hearing a black thrush shriek,
the last cry of one who won't reach another summer,
I realized that in his voice a tree was speaking,
one of so many,
but I don't know what to do with this sharp deep sound,
I don't know in what type of script
I could set it down.
- Eugenio Montejo
#listenerofthetrees Feeling called to consolidate rather than compartmentalize. Unify rather than divide and conquer. It’s an inner movement more than an external one. Last year’s struggles were about that lesson for me. It’s taken several turns, but I now know what happens in my life when I make decisions based on fear and how it feels to NOT do that. It is the difference of feeling whole and feeling a small piece of who I am. May we all hear what nature has to say to us today. 💋 Om Shanti #becourageous#naturespeaks#thetreestoldmeso#unexpectedwisdom