Photograph by Amit Singh.
I.
19:28
I spent my teen writing, and my 20s fussing about the craft, and then I stopped giving a damn. I was too afraid or self-conscious to say the things that I wanted to say to the whole world. Mithila Review [http://mithilareview.com] became my outlet, my shield, my home, my art. And for a while, that was enough. Everything was fine. But then I started to grow restless again. There are stories that needed to be told, and I couldn’t see, find or support them.
Belief comes with doubts. Just like stories come at a price. And the best stories come at a greater price. If stories have the power to change the society, push it forward, why is our imagination shackled in chains? Why is the production and distribution of stories that provoke creative thought and action so difficult?
Practicing, producing art becomes more difficult as we grow, as our expectations grow with our understanding. But no matter how hard it gets, this is what you do. You get up in the morning and get down to work. You fight. You surrender. You write. You create. You craft. You persist. You don’t quit. This is who you are. This is who you will always be. A storyteller, artist, entrepreneur-activist — a revolutionary spirit.
II.
23:34
My eyes hurt from staring at the screen all day; the past few days have been hectic. And I need to sleep.
There is a video circulating on Twitter in which “Egyptian security opens fire at a woman taking a video from her balcony during the dispersal of the protest.”
In my inbox, I find a newsletter that screams “Kashmir: 49 Days of Communication Blockade.” And I hope the people of Kashmir are recording everything, and that we’ll get to see what’s happening there when the blockade ends.
Peace.