Impromptu writing, whatever comes...on writing or whatever the question of the day is. |
I swear this is a true news from India. A farmer called the police to complain that malevolent ghosts allegedly controlled by his neighbors were torturing his family and stealing his chickens. At first, the police--like me--laughed, but a judge in India's northeastern state of Assam saw little humor in this. Instead of laughing, he ordered police to get to work and find the culprits. Where are the ghost busters when they are needed and just how one can investigate ghosts? The only malevolent ghosts that bother me every night are not set off by my neighbors but my overworked grey matter, chiding me why I didn't finish this or that, not realizing that I have set up far too many chores and duties. In other words, ghosts come about because I have bitten more than I can chew. Even on days, when my chores are finished, the ghosts of unfinished stories and badly drawn characters haunt me until, laughing at my ghosts and my silly self, I fall asleep. A writer's day is never done if the writer extends herself too thin. Still, I love my ghosts and my life. I bet I'd have no joy in life if it weren't for my ghosts. |