Incomplete
Why u end abruptly?
She has impeccable grammatical skills, but when she texts, it all sort of goes down the drain. I had sent her the Life piece I had done a few days back. That was her reply, no, not the reply, rather the evaluation of it. Quick note: these are all different hers, I just don’t want to keep naming them again, and again. So. Yeah.
I feel that’s what describes my work these days. Not just these days. What I write, has evolved in time; from pieces with faltering structures, from pieces with holes as big as, well, you know, as if tanks had just rolled down the streets; to stuff that has some semblance, some structure, some idea about tense. Back then, I was just starting out. I never, never, read what I had written down; if I had, half of the ebbs would have ironed themselves out. Practice. And experience.
I also remember talking to her, about the stuff I wrote. It was all short. Really short stuff. I remember the longest one I did, stretched for around six or seven parts, with each part growing in size, and the whole series being around three thousand odd words. I remember looking at it, and thinking I could have done it better. But that’s always there, isn’t it?
Also remember something that I did as an experiment, an interesting one at that. I had done it in a jumbled up, Memento style. Weird shit. I guess I just did not have the balls back then. To sit down, and work through. To get something polished. They were all first drafts, not that I had any idea about drafts back then!
Now, is a little different. Now, I can’t write in the metro, in transit, or in office. Now I need to get in the zone. The time I get, elsewhere, is just not enough. And once through, there is this hurry, to get the thing completed. Get it up on the blog. Because it has happened, and with enough repetition, to make me believe that picking up these essays, once I’ve stopped is quite hard. And so, at times I don’t soften the edges, at times I let it hang, or end abruptly.
Abrupt endings, though, are something I like.