I write, can I?

Mind-- it was a dried up desert. No thoughts, no ideas-- and feelings? None at all!

He sighed into the cold air. All of a sudden his mind had homed vacuum. It was one of those writer’s block thing. He could neither sleep nor eat. The sensation of emotional word shower was suddenly numb. He stared at his laptop, as if he wanted to emotionally black mail the word document to seed some ideas in his mind.

 Of course, what could a word document do? It was a mere lump of clay waiting to be shaped.

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 The sound of silence lodged his heart. Everything around was as still as the printed words in the books. His mind felt emptiness even in the enigmatic expression of Mona Lisa in the portrait which hung wobbly on the shabby wall of his room.

He felt as if he was fighting a war against the words and they were too cowardly to come near him.

“Why? Whaai are the ideas afraid of me?  What do I write on for my next book?”

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He started fantasizing himself as a frog in a swarm of word flies. He could see the flies but could not catch them right. He turned away from the laptop and had a fleeting glance of his reflection in a mirror nearby.

“Unfortunately, ideas don’t fly around in the air. But definitely, some thought, good or bad, does arise in my mind. Why don’t I write down whatever hits me and compile them as a piece?” he asked himself introspectively.

It was as if he saw ‘desert’ as ‘dessert’. He was more affirmative than ever. His dried up mind was replete with words, live words! His thoughts rolled down at will as if they were set free from a jail. The words sprinted along the page as his fingers danced on keyboard. He went on till he reached the saturation.

“Err……….err….Umm now what do I write?”

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The water fall - the word fall - had stopped rolling any more.

His eyes whooshed through the cramped columns of his writing, like a boy running in an alleyway of a slum city. The editor in him took over his mind. He started editing the piece.

“Oh!  I should delete, ‘and feelings? None at all! ’,in the first line. It does not sound logical. Emptiness is a feeling too! A full glass cannot be filled. Emptiness is a sign of seeking more…” he thought to himself. “I write, can I?”