“Description is what makes the reader a sensory participant in the story. Good description is a learned skill,one of the prime reasons you cannot succeed unless you read a lot and write a lot. It’s not just a question of how-to, you see; it’s a question of how much to. Reading will help you answer how much, and only reams of writing will help you with the how. You can learn only by doing.”
― Stephen King
Everyone was loyal honest and hardworking, this is what I remember when I was a young officer and was required to write confidential reports, of my under command. During the same period when I had the opportunity to read through reports of other officers who were reporting officers I found how conventionalised they were too. The space provided for the pen picture was so small one could only write 6 to 7 lines. I felt otherwise. This was enough writing space if one knew what exactly to write. However, I found there were very few officers who had the ability to paint a word picture about the work and ability of the person reported up. Everyone then who were reported upon was professionally sound. This I later discovered that if such reassurance of the abilities were not reflected there was a good probability it would mar the individual’s career both in a long and short term. By nature, my experience is that we are unfavorably inclined about knowing or reading our negative reports.
Gradually as I grew in years in uniform I started to understand and practice the art of understanding and then transforming my thoughts and convictions about the impression I absorbed of people on whom I was required to write. This was not the only thing I did. I read biographies and autobiographies and paid attention how different people described the subject they chose. I noted and absorbed them. Steadily to understand the art of recounting and narration became an area of my interest. To know a person no matter how long I knew him, how closely he interacted with me became a habit with me of unraveling him or her through my observation winding into words. I started with rough notes to practice myself to describe as detailed as possible randomly in all aspects of personality. How he spoke, what he spoke, what kind of person he reflected and revealed to be irrespective of the period of time he was exposed to me; like a surgeon with knife who would operate and be able to stitch him back, not really be affected or biased of what was thought of him as a friend, colleague, co-worker, leader, part of team or not. The purpose obviously not to be carried away by my assessment. We are after all humans and not perfect. In an intimate social interaction and meeting of less than an hour I started writing a pen picture – no matter if he was actually what I was describing him to be. It was not for anyone’s consumption but mine and mine alone only.
To write about someone also reflects on your own character, in an official capacity especially. This is what I saw when I started writing and reading reports. I saw more of people who wrote rather than those who were reported upon. In my military career especially I observed that those who wrote good reports and chiseled perfectly their choice of words were recognized but generally not very popular or liked because of their clarity of thought and understanding among all shades of officers under command. One thing is however absolutely clear when years pass and history written it is they who stood out and mentioned. Their reasoning and study became benchmarks of research. Now as years have passed and overgrowth is also thing of the past, level-headedness at times also becomes unsteady I enjoy observing faces of people. It is such a treat and suddenly you come across people with calm exterior yet they display so much in their eyes and expressions. Pain, joy, excitement, expectations and eagerness, helplessness all are there for me to form my batting line up to play with.
I wrote this piece exactly a month ago – 25th of May 2016. I have read it again today. It was a very special moment when I started writing this. I am beginning to like this way to express myself. It doesn’t happen every time. There are special moments; before I go to sleep, during my drive to work, when I am touched by an event and people I witness on the road and other places. There is an outpouring and an upsurge of thoughts, the turbulence and flutter of ideas as to what I want to say doesn’t remain long. I have started taking notes. The pen and book ready to be opened. I call this for some reason MINDLESS that was the first name I thought I must give to this “Thought”. For now please read this and feel free to express – Thank you ~
There is a vociferous desire in me these days to immediately start writing about my randomly undirected aroused state of consciousness.In this state there are words and ideas which ooze out in fragments which run its course and suddenly I am confronted with another idea. I find sublime explanations injecting it with words, sentences and focussed thoughts. The corresponding words and analogies surprises me as well. Being a painter I am confronted with similar situation during that activity which I pursue whole heartedly. The quizzing I do of myself does not open up real doors. Though for painting my pursuit has been very rewarding. There is still however lot of avenues to stumble on in my quest. There is nothing negative with my emotional state. It is actually the forgetfulness which thwarts my aroused exhuberance. The best words to describe what is in my mind at that point stays momentarily and later I struggle to remind myself what it was I thought off. I could at that very moment choose effectively what I wanted to say and what I could compare it with. I know I need to overcome this weakness one way or the other. The dilution of all thoughts with very few remaining reflections. I am beginning to discover very gradually the transformation. These thoughts are not shrouded anymore. Others have not so far been able either witness or observe the elevated mutation of this change. It has actually started taking shape since last two years or so. It was rare occurence though not so in distant past but I am beginning to like this. At times I feel it has been a late coming. But by nature I am a believer of that with me Time is no impediment if I have to pursue what I could not do earlier I would not be dampened merely because I could have done earlier. I am a great proponent of the idea that there is always time. When there is why then limit yourself by this or that. I think choice of words are very important to chronical my unimaginable and erractic chain of thoughts. Once I have grasped them in full control of my pen I should present it as very lucid piece of articulated thought process. Each idea would then allow me to sieve and crystallize into shapes which genuinely reflect my state of mind. It should allow the reader enter in my mind to wander around and explore. I would love if the limits of my passion is discovered by all senses. The distance and time for me does not matter. The connection should remain established. Questions asked with no holds barred. It should be I reckon a wonderful experience. I would like to cherish that without any qualms about sharing them. I have reached a point in life where I do not get upset of the disclosure. I am not sure everyone feels like that. I think to me it does not matter because I want the perception of what I am should not be contrastive to what I think I am. I have seen people straying and wandering off in misplaced orbit. It is very important, I feel, to commit oneself. I am not looking for praise and acceptance of how I feel, I’m in actuality allowing and learning creation of space for more tangible and touchable feelings. The connection of me and the reciepient develops unconciously with spontainity. This state I suppose is exceedingly complex to accomplish. I have no uncertanity that I won’t acquire the skill to reflect completely what I am reflecting in my mind about. The mind such a powerful medium for me who is constatntly exploring the voyager inside my mind. I have used the word voyager not without an untied reason. The assemply of thoughts may be muddled up right now but is alright. I should remain unfaltering in my quest. The beauty however, is that I am not bound by any format. It should be like that. Means is not necessary as long as I have achieved the explication of the required commentary. My fascination with outer space and its vastness with unending dimensions where everything at one point or the other becomes trivial to an ordinary human being unintelligble. The evolution of human brain has tip toed in time, the distance remains indecipherable. As a fan of stars and planets I am not seeking to unravel into the nature’s scheme, I am not looking at unlocking anything which exists in outer space deep into nothingness. Instead I am taking pleasure in creating on the canvas. It gives me freedom. Nothing to me is stationary out there but in a state of constant change and flux. I have enormous liberation of how and what I produce. That is so exhilarating and intoxicating. The movement of thousands of stars in different orbits with different sizes, the time calculations in thousands of light years is perplexing. I cannot seek myself in any way. Why not must I then free my self. Write and write to myself. I am not seeking wisdom either. An artist who thinks only has squandered Time. MORE LATER