If I have to write, I cant write when I feel like. I have to write everyday as a matter of habit. Right? yes, I read that Joyce used to write almost 200 pages everyday! Well, that makes Joyce, not me:).
I am trying but I just dont know what to write about. Let me try- can i write about my existence? My world right now, at this point of time in front of the comp or can i write about the myriads of thoughts in my head...? Let me start with right now- My fingers touch the key board, writing. My legs are twitching each other, in one of my legs efforts to scratch the other. My body itches in places, my hand leaves the key board to scratch it. "Oh what a treachery!", says the key board. "Of course not", says the part that itches, "I need it". Any which way, my fingers would be the treacherers. What is to be done? My legs shake on their own, My mind tries to control that movement, they stop. My mind wonders what next - where is the person I want to talk to? My legs shake again a bit, my mind notices, they stop. Why am I wrting, wonders the mind. I am actually waiting for somebody. Is it to kill time? May be, but I am enjoying this. I am enjoying this process of observation. How do I smell? I have a human smell. What does that mean? Where is the person? Oh yes, the smell. I am thinking - my mind is. My legs twitch again. My smell - the Megha smell? My hands go to itch again. What do I smell like? I smell of sweat and some perfume that I wore last night. The itching doesn't stop. My hands dont stop either. It is different part each time.
Where is the person? Is he coming? I want to speak to him. How do I smell? Different from your smell? most definitely. I have a warm smell, a beautiful smell. My sweat smells good to me, it smells warm to me, I dont know what else. My legs twitch again. I am thinking. I scratch. I suddenly think of Shakuntala. Should I write that, rather than this? Well no, I am doing this now. I remove some dirt from my hair - time for a wash. I click my fingers. well, I am sleepy again. Too many numbers i dealt with, last night. I scratch my eyes this time. I shake my legs again and my mind notices. My hair floats in front of my eyes. The position of my legs have changed. I scratch my ears. I stare. Where is the person? I want to talk. God, call him. I dont know why I want to talk, but here I am, waiting. I stare. I have to leave. I shall lie down for a while. I have to go out today. Oh, I have a class today. I need to run. I stare. I dont know what next. I am off to sleep.