Around 18 years ago, on one of the nights this happened!
It was 1:10 am and I was sitting at my study table lost in my thoughts staring out in the blackness outside my window. It was quite some time since I have had a look at the watch and when I saw it – I was shocked.
“Oh my God, it has been almost an hour since I did anything constructive. What the hell am I doing wasting my time before the important Maths exam tomorrow?” I felt my heart racing and I quickly checked how much revision was still pending. I realize it is going to take at least 2 more hours which means I cannot sleep before 3 am. And the exam was at 9 am. Less than 3 hours of sleep before an important exam. Phew!!!
This used to be my situation almost every time I studied before exams. So, the question why was I wasting my time when I had so much study to be done. What was I really doing with my book open in front of my eyes, holding a pen but just staring in the black night – thinking? It was day-dreaming.
I was in a habit of day-dreaming anywhere and anytime. But what I dreamt about was something that’s always been very personal to me. I usually dreamt about some stories. Those day-dreams were something like a movie that’s running in my head with the difference that I am not watching those but I am actually the main character of the movie. Those movies sometimes were related to me being the topper of the class and most preferred student by all teachers. Sometimes the stories were around me solving some mysteries. There were also stories in which I would fight with some goons to save somebody’s life and people would call me “super-girl”! Well you get an idea – I was a teenager then.
It was some time during my 9th standard when I decided that I will write down my day-dreams (these weird stories that cooked in my head). And I started to do that. To my surprise, when I would write the stories down – they would turn out to be much better than what I would have thought of. Good thing was that I could read those stories any time without forgetting and actually could build upon them.
It was an interesting time – I had made a few characters (all of them had some part of me). I would make them do whatever I wanted in those stories. I would make them travel places, solve world problems, be courageous and strong. Most of my characters would always end up contributing to the world in a big way. Some of my characters were also scared of the world, some would just end up committing suicide.
In front of the mirror, I used to spend hours and hours enacting a particular character of my story. Because I just had to know how would she/he feel when a particular situation comes up.
I don’t have all those write-ups (only a few). I couldn’t maintain those because I usually wrote in my notebook, at the back of my school work etc. If I could just go back in time – I would love to preserve those little treasures.
This is how the story-teller in me was born. I love writing but more than that I love writing fiction. I love creating those characters and weave their lives up. I love wondering how a particular character would do in a certain situation. I love making these characters my best friends – these people in my head that I can talk to and understand. These people comfort me, they understand me and they even guide me. Some of them are really personal and I might never publish them to the world. But there are many of them who are ready to come out in the world so that people can also know them.
I was busy writing my own collection of short stories couple of years back. After my son was born, this project took a back seat. Someday I believe I will have them published. Though one of my stories has been published in a book named “Your’s lovingly” and few of them got published on webzines (including Candles).
For now, I enjoy creating stories for my son who loves listening a story from me before his bedtime. He loves to listen to them under the moonlight just like I loved creating them.