I’m not having a go at my ilk. Oh no! I wouldn’t write anything against the writers of the world. On the contrary, this blog is a heartfelt piece about how my writer’s block thawed after a throbbing experience! Who knows, this outpouring might just provide solace to a kindred soul grappling with wordy constipation or even recourse from curiosity as to what the throbbing experience was!
What happens during a writer’s block?! It’s akin to a road block. You don’t get anywhere! Hours crawl past; groaning under the weight of muselessness. Minutes prance past us; tongue in cheek, taunting, “Use your thumbs, twiddle dee, twiddle dum.” Seconds race ahead; glassy eyes smarting from the dust kicked up. Thoughts fade into thin air. Ideas play truant, hiding in the folds of a numb brain. On a hopeful, sunny day, when an idea flutters about on gossamer wings like a dragonfly, a quick thumbs warm up later you look up to see, “Poof, gone.” No sign of rainbow coloured wings or the faint buzz of the idea! Only void.
I had no idea that ideas could be so unfaithful. I hadn’t written a word for almost half a year. Post writer’s block season, I am acutely conscious that the germ of an idea is unbelievably slippery, like a freshly snagged fish on what could be its last breath. If you foolishly give it some extra time in the mind’s dugout, that’s the last you’ll see of that struggling idea. You’ll see your dinner wagging it’s tail fin and getting away; jeering cruelly at you. I guess I’ve made it crystal clear that an idea is to be latched on to; just as I latched on for dear life on the bike ride from Hyderabad to Bidar!
Did I mention that the mean machine had a person’s name and didn’t have a restraining backrest?! It’s no wonder they call it a mean machine. That 2-hour (one way, mind you) tooth and nail fight against succumbing to gravity and bouncing off the throbbing bike at every lurch definitely gave me the ‘bite’ to write. Consider this; even before the gluteus maximus has recovered from all that clenching, I’m sitting down to capture the enjoyable moments of the otherwise accident free ride! Funnily enough a frozen derrière has thawed my thoughts!
It was an idyllic day to set out. The clouds shielded the sun from toasting our bare skin. The previous night’s rain had washed away the grime from the roads and foliage. And the intermittent puddles playfully sprayed a charming pattern on the ankles. And of course the cool breeze on the face was a reminder of the adage, ‘All the best things in life are free’! While burning rubber on the tar, the breeze plays music in your ears and the trees lining the road dance along. For well-nigh starved travellers from Hyderabad, Bidar has the right amount of lure for a day trip. But the excitement of the ride tops the charm of the destination. The sense of unfettered abandon that a bike ride endows is second to none; until of course a speeding lorry forces you to stop acting like Leonardo DiCaprio trying to woo Kate Winslet!
The experience of alternating pleasure and thrill with a ceaseless undercurrent of pain will appear to you as a mirror image of writing on an uninspired day! Try it sometime. I mean both - taking a long bike ride and writing on a museless day. At the end of the day, when you thumb down that last period, it’s pure happiness! And when you step down from the bike exhausted, it’s freedom from derrière distress!!
-Anuradha Venkatnarayan
