“Writer’s block” these two words used to be my fantasy. I remember thinking like “what is it like to feel like? Is it even possible?” When I was almost half done with my book, my fantasy decides to turn into reality. In simple words, I’m stuck. It’s not as heavenly as I imagined it to be neither cursed. Not cursed because it saved me. Before my head used to be buried in financial reports of various companies while my heart used to calculate taxes. I was a funny creature, I must say. Now when I face writer’s block, it is actually the time when I am too curious to know what happens next. This one question “where to go from here?” starts spinning in my head like a movie. When I write two lines after two months every part of my body starts dancing. It doesn’t matter if it’s worth reading, but for me, there’s nothing compared to this feeling. I can say, it has been like finding a flashlight in a very dark room.
How is it like to be born a girl? I know we all are princesses in our heads and to our dads. (I’m a queen though) but what of the world? In most places, being a girl is still a curse. Some don’t treat us like a person as if we are some kind of alien species. Even in most of the religious scriptures, they mentioned us like a second grade human. Probably the reason behind my questionable faith. I don’t want good grades or a promotion just because you want to sleep with me. I don’t want to be laughed at when I suggest the best option. I don’t have to be dreaming about a husband a dozen of kids. For once in my life, I just want to be treated like a person. I just want to feel safe in my own skin.
I knew I wanted to be a writer since I was 16. No one knows this or didn’t know this. Where I am since I would have been called delusional because it is not considered as a “real job”. I figured that I couldn’t do what I love so why pursue it? I chose business instead. I hated it the least than other subjects. I am one of those people who is not very good at verbally expressing what is eating them. Last year, I was feeling so restless. I didn’t know what’s there left for me to live anymore and I am only 20. I downloaded a writing app because it looked pretty cool. I started writing my first book. I have been thinking about the plot for some years now. Now it’s only half done like 50 pages. Truth to be told, the first few chapters came out pretty bad which I’m going to rewrite. Sometimes I even wait more than a month to write a chapter; sometimes I write two in two days. I don’t know if I’ll be able to complete it. And if I do, I don’t know if it will ever be published. My story is based in New York city which seemed fitting and I don’t even live in the USA. And as I have mentioned again and again that my native language isn’t English. As they say, the mind has no boundaries. Truth is I don’t even think about getting it published it right now or completing the whole book. I just focus on the next chapter. I don’t what lies in the future for me. But that is the beautiful nature of the future. It’s like I’ve got a thirst for it now and it probably stopped me from turning into a nutjob.
I know we live in the era of technology. I cannot even spend a day without my gadgets. Come on we can do almost anything by a blink of an eye. But nothing beats the old pen and paper for me. Seeing those black letters on a white paper gives me a strange satisfaction which thousands of writing apps are unable to provide. Well, at least that is the case for me. When I hold my pen, It’s like my brain stops working and my hand starts to write anything automatically. But then again, my hands are not still familiar with the keyboard even though I have been playing games on computer since childhood. I know I sound like a total lunatic. But it’s true. Nothing beats the pen and paper for me. Thankfully, I aren’t a science major or I’d have been shown the door on the first day of my job.
What happens after you have finished a good book? Let me tell you what happens to me. I start imagining myself in the same position as the author. Recently I read “The Glass Castle: A memoir” by Jeannette Walls. While I was reading the book; I couldn’t shake the feeling of being miserable. It was as if I lived in Welch wherever that is and I was sitting right in the middle of the author’s half broken house. It felt like I was invisible and living among them. I could literally feel their struggle and heartbreaks. Even though I was reading the novel comfortably sitting in my room which I’m currently redecorating. It was as if the paintings on my walls were torn out. Something is terribly wrong with me, I know! I started my blog just after reading the book. I still feel terrible from the inside thinking what people go through in their lives. Well, anyone can clearly notice the after effect of The Glass Castle in my writings. But in the end, the book teaches us how not to give up even if you have the most miserable life. Cheers to that!
Hi, I am Afrin. And no, I wasn’t named after the nasal spray (probably not). My mom liked this name because it seemed different or so I was told. I am 20 years old. This whole concept of blogging is still alien to me. I never expected I would ever write a line except for my class notes. I started writing since last two-three months. Probably it’s one of my “Jake of all trades, master of none” things. But when I write something on a plain white paper, the black letters on it blow a breeze to my heart. It’s a way for me to keep myself from exploding by my own thoughts (I overthink everything). I don’t write masterpieces, I know. But hey, I am still very much new to the whole concept of writing. I mostly write about my life or what I think about it. I know I could write a personal journal or something. But what’s the fun in that? My first language isn’t English, but I am going to cut the crap, “Oh please forgive me for my grammatical mistakes.” I love travel, culture, music, good books and anything that catches my eyes. The other reason for me to start a blog is, I love meeting new people. Meeting people from all over the world seems refreshing, doesn’t it?