i am very raw, just like an unripen mango, when it comes to writing poetry. i am like a half-grown tree that takes refuge in the shadows of tall great trees like robert frost, john keats, emily dickinson, sylvia plath, byron, shakespear, whitman, rilke, bukowski and many more. i am growing slowly and steadily in their companionship. but not to forget, i have to find my own voice while reading them. most of the time when i read keats and i rhyme like him, i read shakespear and in my poetry you replace with thee, i read byron and i stuff mythology in my poetry, i read bukowski and my poems stink of stubbornness and boldness. and that is why i keep telling people who tell me that i write good poetry that it's not my own voice. i am yet to find it.
nowadays, i came to a realisation that i am writing rarely and whatever that I am writing, I am writing less poetry and more ramblings. ramblings that i want to let out just because i think people will like them not because I want to write them. at times I don't even feel like i am writing poetry but still i keep adding these pieces into a stock of meaninglessness. poetry loses its meaning and value when it is written for others and not for the self. even after knowing this i let these ramblings out to clear the space, hoping that more beautiful poems will occupy that space, poems which will be more meaningful to me rather than others.
i am not the kind of a poet who is obsessed with poetry. no, i won't lie that I can't live without poetry. i am selfish bastard who turn to poetry and who likes to feed on poetry only when i am in a dire need of it. be it writing poetry or reading poetry, i do it when i feel like doing it. often, i get this feeling that i am betraying the art but i don't really care. when i force myself into writing, i create more ramblings and less poetry. i detest the poetry that i write for the sake of writing but when i write for myself, a heavenly feeling of satisfaction takes place in my heart which help me go through a few weeks without writing anything. and that's why i jumped on a conclusion that has been written by a great poet like robert frost years ago. that 'to be poet is a condition, not a profession".
I am nothing special; of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts, and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.
How often do we say that 'I don't have enough time for myself'? All the time I guess! But there is a misconception among us regarding giving time to ourselves. We are habitual to consider that only the time that we give to the activities that we love to do or the activities that elate our mood as ours. Like, in my case, I love reading books, watching movies, writing and when I get time to do these activities, I think I have enough time for myself. But when it comes to the activities which are a little tedious, which we do not enjoy doing, which needs a little bit of effort from our side, we don't consider time given to these activities as ours. We divide time in parts. A part for family, a part for job, a part for friends and the problem starts when we don't consider time given for such parts as our own. When we will start considering time given to family, time given for job, time spent with friends as our own, we will start having enough time in out plate. And the key to do so lies in one simple phrase: being present in the moment.