Written By: Uday Mitra
The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. (AnaïsNin)
Multimedia surrounds me as I edgily craft 500 word articles for a pittance, going around the internet in dizzying circles. And then comes the occasional editing and proofreading contracts that generate decent incomes for those little vanity purchases otherwise unfulfilled. I sometimes dream of writing a bestseller yet!
I completed my teaching
contract last December and dolefully bid goodbye to a school lifestyle that had
endured across decades. The web of memory like a Spiderman regurgitates my
mellifluous schooldays; Deccan Herald newspaper paid Rs.25 for my real life
story ‘Death of a Pet’ about a whimsical parrot that pouted and danced at
mirror reflections. I won an essay prize too and debated to my heart’s content.
Perhaps my Christian primary school and European middle school resulted in my
better English because father decided that I should study English during
graduation.
And so it was that I plunged
into a lifetime of English teaching and writing too. Do I regret? Hardly. It
has been worth the experience in spite of the usual elations and
disappointments life would bring in any calling.
I had the entire literary
history by heart after five cloudy years and had identified my favorites- Mark
Twain, Shakespeare, Raja Rao, Tennessee Williams, Milton, Dryden and many more.
I was now learning to teach and guiding students through composition, letter
writing and literature.
And then comes the turning
point! Fate or Karma transports me across three days of Indian Railways to
Punakha in Buddhist Bhutan, amidst a boarding school of 500 girls and boys with
high cheekbones and creepy slit eyes. Surroundings? Walls of mighty Himalayan
mountains hedge the gently flowing river in an infinite silence; alpine forest,
orchid, rhododendron and friendly robust
natives rule the land.
Creativity unleashes.
Inspiration flows. A heavenly panorama. I realize I could write again like the
school days. But how? Those were not the days of emails and Facebook. I join
The British Institutes correspondence course in writing and my interaction
through snail mail ends half way for some vague reasons.
At somebody’s suggestion, I
enroll again at The Writers Bureau, Manchester, for the Creative Writing
course, followed by four years of assignments and relearning the world of
literature, journalism and mass media, all through distance education. Learning
would have been so much faster nowadays with a plethora of institutes and
courses at the fingertips!
I was busy with the writings
of others like bank cashiers as part of my school duties of correcting exercise
books, my first experiences of the editing process. I published school
magazines almost single handedly through the compiling, editing, typing,
printing and publishing process! A few students helped and painted astonishing
pictures too for the covers.
I intensely admired native
artistic skills rough hewn through mountain life yet practicing age old crafts
amidst a sensual spirituality with forces of nature imbued by lively spirits
that ensured a good life. Commercial mountaineering is banned even today in
fear of disturbing those spirits that bless.
My youthful passions were
spent in teaching Keats’ poems, Hardy’s novels and Oscar Wilde’s drama. Bitter
hard labor went into lesson plans, procurement of teaching materials and
audio-visual activities across weeks and months with the longer texts. And then
the grammar lessons too! Study supervision, cultural and sports activities too.
The challenging sterile
silence yet remained as if taunting me for not being creative enough. The
splendor of god and spiritual art in daintily colored Buddhist frescoes of gods
and devils stared down spitefully and goddess images spread across the Thimphu
sky inspired me.
I found outlets for
creativity as communication and technology were taking over with photography,
Adobe Photoshop and InDesign. I enjoyed the advantage of smallness in Bhutan
where everything was under control- no crowds or pollution and hardly any
crime. Newspaper and television offices were cozy enough where you did not get
lost in the frenzy of celebrities. As I gazed at the snow clad peaks and prayed
for Nirvana, I realized that I was reaching some mythical destination.
Manchester delivered me unto
the world of publishing in newspapers and magazines; quite a thrilling
experience to see my images in glossy paper, arranged in bookshop shelves and
displayed at the book fairs where schools purchased library books! I was
receiving media attention too and a few terse compliments besides some small
payments that I treasured as much as the Rs.25 in the seventies! Nowadays I
find me all over the online interface!
I flew through uncharted
territories in my quest for character, plot, theme, dialogue, beginnings and
endings! God like ethereal creativity demands more and more. The hard labor of
snatching time off each morning for writing successfully ended with publishing,
later followed by the protracted darkness of writers block.
Quite satisfied with my two
publications, WHISPERING WINDS (a compilation of stories and poems) and KISSING
DRAGON (a fictional autobiography), I now wish to delve into the fictional
world proper which would be like diving from one of those Himalayan highrises
into the unknown! Incomes have come and gone when I invested in the next
edition with no proper accounts to vouch for. Gross national happiness is what
Bhutan taught me, a life of ease and grace dedicated to fellow sentient beings.
Will I or my writings make a
difference amidst the galaxy of writers or the billions? Scarcely. Yet each
soul has a place in the cosmos if you believe in the divine spark. That inner
voice cannot be ignored. The heart has too many stories to tell! Indians are
making it big in English writing like Amish Tripathi. Along with the daily
Facebook, perhaps I can achieve a little successful writing too.
You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you. (Ray Bradbury)
UDAY
MITRA is a Bangladeshi settled in Bangalore, India. He graduated in English
from Bangalore University and is interested in books, films, music, movies and
nature. A published writer, Uday Mitra searches for further opportunities in
writing. Interested in social service, a dedicated teacher and creative writer
at heart, Uday Mitra believes that India must catch up with the developed world
through patriotic visions of endeavor and sincerity. A commitment to Buddhist
values of compassion and mind training can make a difference to the evil that
pervades present day India, lessons he learnt through meditation practice in
lofty Himalayan Bhutan where he taught English.
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ReplyDeleteYour story is really inspiring for the newcomers who want to make a good career in the field of writing. I am also going through initial struggling phase of my writing. Please wish me a good luck!