On the surface everything appeared nice and calm, while the storm brewing within only the head knew. Relentless intrigue or plain nervousness, none knew.
She was radiant with beauty, and that was the least interesting thing about her. Over fifty-hundred thoughts bashing the head, her one smile stole them all.
I had written a letter to my 100 year old self before last year. I guess I should write one for my past self as well. Until then hope you enjoy reading this one.
Which books did you love growing up? Which poems?
I grew up mainly reading comic books, the first being Batman, my all time favourite fictional character. Oh did you know he turned 75 today?
Do you remember your first original composition? What was it? How did you feel while writing it?
I can’t pin-point to what, just it was a drawing or painting since I did that a lot back in the day. However this is one piece which I’m very proud of, which I wrote when I was in school in 2004.
Did you secret your writing away or share it with family and friends?
I basically wrote for myself whenever I did. Still do. Alas not many are interested in it though. 😛
What sort of writing do you enjoy doing best? Fiction? Nonfiction? Creative Nonfiction? Poetry? Memoir? Other?
I enjoy creative writing. Mostly non-fiction for now. And whenever I have an epiphany (which I usually do) and aphorisms now and then.
What are your writerly aspirations? Do you write for yourself, or to become published?
For now just for myself, and have no desires to be published as an author as such. However I would love to travel around the world and document my travels/adventures someday, which is actually my long term aim. Now only the universe knows how I’m going to get there.
Why do you write?
Because I feel free.
What keeps you writing?
I just do, not much of an explanation I have I’m afraid.
Do you have a daily writing practice? Tell us about it.
For now I only follow The Daily Post and it’s writing prompts such as this one. While still have a long way to go, I’m happy to somehow keep myself alive everyday, and keep improving. 🙂
Oh, the joy of writing!
Although having a cool name is, well, cool, I’ve always been the what’s in a name? kind of person, maybe because thanks to my parents, specifically my father for my short and sweet one.
There is a short story behind my real name though (yes, contrary to what you might believe I have one as well 😛 ). Essentially, my first name Aditya in Sanskrit translates to the Sun God in Hindu mythology. (there’s a wiki entry too if you’re so interested) It’s a fairly uncommon name here in India, you probably might find a one named in every third group or so. (I totally made that up) Though I’m mostly known by my surname (or last name if you reader are American) Iyer is much cooler though, and I’m more known by that or just, nameless. 😉
But that’s not why my father named me that. When I finally popped out over two decades ago, my pops was reading a magazine on one of India’s biggest and most prominent industrialist of the same name, so perhaps he kinda expected his first born would do something of the same sort (
not so sorry to disappoint so far pop!). And no, I’m totally not commenting on is sudden unexpected death just a few years later. Names are powerful aye?
The Golden Years is less of a definitive period and more variant for an individual as opposed to others (like the golden age of comic books or television)
By definition, Golden Age refers to a mythological period of primeval human existence perceived as an ideal state when human beings were pure and free from suffering.
But as already said, when you take into account life of an individual and not something collective, it’s different for everybody. Usually the golden years for a person can be regarded at their initial ages, a baby or young child being loved and pampered by everyone around. But those born with a disease, thrown away as unwanted, or worse born into some captivity like slavery shows a different picture. For many school/college life is the most cherished, but not for many going through perpetual struggles which range from bullying to monetary. All well to do and happy? Time for some real retrospection.
All this is not even dramatic, it happens everyday all around the world, even right now. The more you know, the more you realize how much things are really fucked up. But hey, happiness is not an unachievable goal. It’s always unknown when will one be free from suffering, even for a bit, but that’s not what the aim should really be. It’s should be for finding oneself and true happiness. Golden years don’t just come, they have to be made, just like from the ore.
In our last moments, our lives flashes before our eyes.
There is this, and there is that.
And somewhere else, another story begins to be written…
Photos by Carissa Snedeker
This must be some co-incidence or a weird joke, as someone sent me this last night along the lines of silence you see.
I’m just going to keep quiet now, which I’ve a lot experience in. 😛