non readers constipate
Back after a short hiatus. But I've been writing. Not blogs necessarily. Application forms, account books, tax returns, emails, letters. Yes. Letters. I have successfully managed to recapture the romance of letter-writing. One small problem though. The person i wrote the first of the letters (with a fountain pen, no less) was thrilled at the sight of a letter, but has yet to reply to the correspondence in any form. It doesn't help when you're the only one communicating, does it? Its a little like unrequited love. Ooooh. Hurts.But my romance with pen and paper is definitely on. I had read somewhere that when you write with an ink pen instead of a ballpoint pen, you write slower, and in the process, think more clearly. True. To some extent, at least. My thrill, however, arose from the basic fact that i was actually writing, not typing. The sound of the faint scratching as the pen moves on the paper. The fact that there's no backspace key. Trying to master the skill of writing in a straight line. Beautiful.
My life the past 3-4 weeks has been a haze. Its almost like i'm sitting on a tree watching myself live. So much has happened. And yet so little. Meeting new people. Realigning relationships with more familiar ones. Work. Frustration. Infatuation. Love. Hate. Ageing. Right now, I feel like a zombie. I'm just carrying on doing the obvious. There's no thought. No feeling. Zilch.
Is this what happens when you hit 30? Wow. Strange feeling, this. I would rather it passed soon.
Labels: ageing, letter writing
posted by chandru @ 1:51 PM
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