Chandrakant bakshi says he grew up reading Russian, German, Dutch, Japanese and American writers who were legends. Hemingway, Boris Pasternak, Erich Maria Remarque… What are we growing up with? What is our youth ideal today? Katerina kaif? Salman Khan?
Coding is my husband but writing? Writing is my lover. I turn to my lover when I am tired from my husband and I turn to my husband and his warm embrace when the lover is tiring me.
There is no shame in borrowing a few words from the greats if the result will help me find my own words…
Never believe what others say, for they often lie, unabashed. They just lie to obscure truth, to get ahead, to misguide you, or just for fun. So listen to all but analyse your situation. Logic is in your hands. You are you + your circumstances. A thousand lies cannot create a single doubt! Never.
Where are all the thinkers? The previous generation says, youth today doesn’t think. Are they right? Has constant exposure to half truths, fabricated facts and sugar coated lies blinded us and made us thoughtless, mindless brutes that just follow the herd? The free and ubiquitous access to all information online has made it hard to determine truth but lack of reading and in turn thinking has made the situation worse.
We have been provided all weapons without first being taught how to use them or when to use them. Speaking out the popular opinion without caring about its truth or facts seems to be a proof of being educated in the 21st century. Is it just the lack of understanding or plain simple laziness to dig deeper? What is worse stupidity or laziness?
“We used to write with burning quills” bakshi said. What does it feel like to be writing with burning heart? You don’t have the luxury to write crappy copy paste second rate, me downs, nor can you decide to take a day, an hour off to clear your head! You must write what’s in your heart. Write the words that are moulded from the daily struggle to go on. Despite the setbacks and failures, the one and only driving force. Just go on. Bakshi always surprises me. His burning quills are transferred to me! I can feel the heat of the pressure building up inside his heart. I can write my own words starting with some of the well known words far greater than mine.