HELP!!!

This is inevitably important piece of news that I can’t elude to put forth before you all, my ardent readers. I first thought of veiling it under the wraps of immaculately thought over write ups but since it’s you for whom I am writing and should (of Corse), I changed my mind and decided to spill the beans. I am suffering from Writer’s Block. Now if you are reading about this for the first time, no need to panic, you are perfectly normal as this is a new entrant in my dictionary too (I didn’t mean that I am a walking dictionary though). Wikipedia defines Writer’s Block as a condition in which an author loses the ability to produce new work. I may have encountered it before but became fully aware about his constant presence in my brain a couple of days before while watching secret window starring Johnny Depp (why do women find him sexy...please answer me if someone knows it).




The plot revolved around a Successful author Mort Rainey who after discovering about his wife’s affair, procrastinates finalizing a divorce and suffers from writers block, unable to decide how to end his current novel. Well...neither I am going for a divorce nor my boyfriend is cheating on me (I hope not), then what could be the possible reason of my unfortunate suffering? After hours and hours of deep analysing I am still stuck on two words, “Why me”? Please help me find the answer guys!

Getting it all alone.....

This entry was to be titled as “25 ways to be Bhawna Jaimini”, but since there are many more ways to attain the feat (m not bragging guys...it’s actually a feat in literal senses) the entry was scrapped before it took steps towards its threshold and the nomad in me took over the guns. Yes, I found a new companion to share a cup of coffee and quarrellings melancholic times named nomad who was sleeping under heavily fabricated layers of fear and apprehensions.

I went on a 3 day trip to a place called Hubli in Karnataka and by the virtue of being in close proximity to Goa; the state of pleasure fell in my kitty too. Taking a 39 hours journey, miles away from home navigation towards nothing and everything brought whims and grins of past and I felt heavy by a 100 pounds weight of nostalgia. It took me to the time when I was a little kid and journeys meant only trips to my grandparents place in Calcutta, I was never intrigued by the urge of attaining my destinations sometimes even wishing that it never happens to see my face. I always happened to strike a bond with my journey which I find hard to break. And this time the bond stroked with all the powerful chords and I fell in love all over again! With whom? Well ...MYSELF and of course my nomad. My nomad made me do all the things which I would have shrugged off with a grin. From moving with no plans and directions to reaching the airport without the air ticket, only to find out that I was booked on the wrong flight. I think we did it all... not with style though, but with perplexed garnishing of goof ups.

This was my first independent step I took to move an inch closer towards my independent existence which seldom reaches any human entity and I just hope it finds me before I decides to seek comfort in my dependence. And now that I have a new companion too, I may turn out be one of those fortunate ones!

P.S- a very happy winter to all.