Monday, December 18, 2006
watching the incredible results of other people's creativity gives me the feeling of inferiority - again and again. do i have the kind of imagination it takes to write anything as remotely fascinating as Fight Club? i can entertain people when i speak, but i've given up on that avenue of life even before i've tried. simple reason - such tomfoolery will not be tolerated in the society that binds me. they may be right; i probably do not have the requisite talent in me; but the suffocation is enough to trample the mere thought of even trying. expectations exist only in the areas they consider good enough. no one - no one - believes i can do well in what i feel i'm made out for. discouragement is handed out in generous doles, and what little encouragement there is, its always wrapped in caution and non-interest. just so that incase (more like 'when') i fail, those same people can turn around and say the phrase "i told you so!". i guess it gives them the feeling of being proved right, the upper hand in the fortune-telling business that they assume they are running, taking children under their wings so that they can shape them to be the way they'd wanted themselves to be. no thought, no consideration for the fact that every individual might want to control his own destiny, choose for themselves the path they want to tread. uninteresting writing. no one will want to read this! and ultimately, that is what i have to aim for, right? to be accepted by the masses as 'worth a try'. i need my writing to earn me a living. i wonder (as i have for years) about all those names i read and respect in the papers (Indrajit Hazra, Vir Sanghvi, so many others but - stupid brain of mine - can't remember). how do they do it? how can i? will i ever?