Why writing is the toughest job ever

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." - Ernest Hemingway

Ernest Hemingway couldn't have put it any better.

I'm sure most writers agree with this statement because that is what we really do, especially when we don't edit our works. It's raw, unabashed and a true reflection of us. Most people, when they read a certain piece, the first question they tend to ask is- "did this happen to you?" 

And all we do is smile. 

Writing is a tough job. It's creative too, and involves a lot of imagination. But there's always an element of truth in it, mostly autobiographical, if you ask me. Whatever we write is in one way or the other "inspired" by our lives. It could be an incident that happened with us interpreted in a completely different way that you won't even realise the story behind it unless we reveal it. Or it could be a friend's secret that you put in a completely different outfit so that you keep it safe in essence but also share it with the world for it may have some important lesson or something beautiful in it. 

 

Writing is not as easy as people think it is.

 

Even the more "un-earthly" works of literature have some truth behind them. Be it JK Rowling's professor inspired the character of Severus Snape or numerous writers being inspired to write after they lost the "love" of their lives. You see, our inspiration is everywhere- family, friends, even a random image etc. 

So you see, when you ask a writer this question, the answer is always YES for it always has some truth and that is the most difficult thing because to keep yourself out there, in front of the whole world and be judged for it. You're baring out your soul in front of the world, a part of you is there for the whole world to see. And that is the most difficult part of all. 

 

Why we love to hate? An insight into the human nature.

Humans are weird creatures, hypocrite if may say. How many times you’ve seen people judging people who hate other people. (Yes, I became mighty redundant there) But you know it is the truth.

We love to judge and we love to hate.

Humans love to hate even if we don't admit it.

Hate. Pretty strong word, that. Don’t you think? So Cambridge dictionary defines the word hate as “to dislike someone or something very much”. I see, so what do you hate? A classmate/colleague? A politician? Some artists? A, idk..place, person, thing whatever. But we do hate something or someone. Why?

Our hate extends to almost every aspect of our lives and we seem to be okay with that

Maybe because it is the easiest thing to do when we come across a situation that doesn’t necessarily go down well with us. Let’s face it, we humans love to hate. And anyone who says who doesn’t hate anyone or anything is a liar. I, for example, hate Arvind Kejriwal, or I hate a certain senior who I think is a bully and insanely selfish, or I hate lizards…yes, the list is getting pretty random now. But you get the point right?

We love to feed off off our hatred for others. If I may say on a more serious note, look at what’s happening around the world. Political tensions, mass murders, civil war, loads of violence. Why? Simply because our hate knows no bounds. Whether we’re commenting on a news story, or some social media post, or when you’re driving on the road. We unconsciously emanate so much hate, it’s crazy that it’s almost become our second nature. 

Whether it's something as random as a social media post, the hate is evident.

What people don’t understand that by reacting to such incidents all we’re doing is adding more hate to the cup that’s already been filled to the brink. We’ve reached a saturation point. There’s no going beyond that. The only way out is to actually incorporate love within yourself. I’m not asking you or preaching a “love thy neighbor” thing. God knows, even I can’t do that. But what you can really do is remain unaffected by such incidents whether they’re happening around the world or closer home, they are happening to you at a personal level.

The goal is to remain unaffected by all such negativity and not let it distort your reality in any way. 

Love, love, love is the key.

Why I hate men and why I blame the world for it.

DISCLAIMER: The incidents mentioned in the post are merely illustrative and have no relation with any person whatsoever.

Don't get me wrong by merely reading the headline of the post. Women love men. After all, why else would we procreate with one of their kind? But we also hate men. Yes, I know, women are confusing as hell and I'm going RIGHT DOWN THAT PATH. But what can we do really? We're programmed like that. 
If someone asked me to give a definite answer- we love men, be it our fathers, brothers, friends, boyfriends, husbands, sons...you get the drift. This is our inherent nature. But we also grow into hating men. Notice the use of the phrase "grow into"? From the second we are born, we are programmed and conditioned into hating men by men themselves and more often than not, women too. 
Don't believe me? Sample the lifetime of a female:


I am 13 minutes and 27 seconds old right now. My grandma cringes at the sight of me. She refuses to take me in her arms and instead chides my mum for not begetting a son. Dad, who was elated to see me a couple of minutes ago, now looks at me with disappointed eyes. He holds me but I feel no more affectionate caress. While maa and I are alone at night, she cries and holds me tight. "I'm sorry, my dear one they don't know better but mama will always love you."

And she fulfills her promise. She never stops loving me.

I am 5 years old now and at my cousins' home for summer vacation. My elder cousin brother asks me if I'd like to play a new game. I say yes, excited. He closes the door and makes me lie on the bed while he comes and lays over me. It feels weird but finally my cousin is "playing" with me so I do as he says. He says it'll be our little secret and if I tell anyone, he'd never play with me again.

I remain quiet.

Child abuse is more common than people realise.

I am 9 now, playing on the road in front of my house. A stranger comes and asks for directions to a certain tutor's place, the aunties there ask me to lead him up the staircase. Halfway through, he holds me against the railing, my hands held at my back and starts moving against me. No, it doesn't feel right. "My mom is calling me", I say. "No, she can wait", he replies. "No, no, I have to go." Fearing I'll cause an alarm, he lets go.

I don't go out and play anymore. 

I am 12 now, almost a teenager! I'm going to a friend's place just 4 minutes away, walking. I can almost see her home now. A guy whizzes past me, but now before he's pulled my t-shirt in front of tens of people. 

My mum wonders why I don't go to my friend's anymore. 

Sweet 16. That means I finally have a broadband connection and the much important Facebook account. I check my 'Others' folder. A guy with a Shah Rukh Khan display picture has sent me a text asking me how I'd like to be f*c*k*d. 

I don't really check that folder now. 

It's not uncommon for women to receive sexually explicit messages online.

I just celebrated my 18th birthday, an adult! I'm coming back from my coaching. It's winters so it gets dark early. There's a patch on the way that's not very lit up. A figure lurking in the shadows pulls me and pushes me against a tree, fondling me. I fight back, bite him. And he runs away.

My mom wonders why I try to find excuses to skip coaching in board year.

I'm 19. My parents go through my cellphone and find out I have a boyfriend. He's just a friend really but we are more close in comparison to the rest of our friends. But they don't understand that he respects me a lot and has never tried to do anything that would hurt me. Just the fact that I have a boyfriend infuriates them. I get slapped and my cellphone's taken away. They forbid me from seeing him in the future. 

I don't have a boyfriend now. 

Relationships are looked down upon my parents while it is perfectly okay to marry a stranger.

 My board results are out. I get accepted into a world class university but my dad refuses to send me abroad. Never you mind, I ace an entrance test and am eligible to enter into various prestigious institutions within the country. "Give as many tests as you want, you'll only go to the local university, it's good." he says while he looks at my younger brother who's still in school and asks him to study hard so he can send him to the United States. 


I never made it outside my city. 

I'm 21, I get an amazing opportunity to work with a reputed company outside my hometown. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. "Why does she have to go out? There are numerous vacancies in the city itself. Tell her to find some work in the city itself" the neighbors say. 

I settle for a less paying job where I don't grow whatsoever. 

I'm 23 now, time to look for a suitable match for me. I tell them I have already met someone and I'd like to marry him. I'm beaten up and locked up in a room. You'll marry the groom of my choice, dad says. Mom sneaks into the room and cries with me. She wishes she'd walked out sooner on dad. She asks for forgiveness. We hug each other tight and cry all night. 

I marry the groom of his choice. 

A few days after my marriage, my in-laws ask me to leave my job. "Why do you need to work? Our son earns enough. Stay at home and serve your ageing in laws". I complain to my husband. He slaps me for speaking against his parents and asks me to listen to what they say. 

My professional designation- a homemaker.

A year into our marriage, he comes home and I'm sick. Fever. But he has needs. He forces me into bed with him and as soon as he's done with me, rolls over to his side of the bed and dozes off, leaving me bruised and completely unattended.

Shut up, my bestie says. There's no such thing as marital rape. It's your job. 

2.6 billion women live in countries where marital rape is legal.

A few says later, I wake up with an uneasy feeling in the morning. I rush to the bathroom. 3 rounds of throwing up and a pregnancy test later, my in laws rejoice at the thought of finally having a grandson. 

I hope it is a girl. 


***Labor day.***

I am 13 minutes and 27 seconds old right now. My grandma cringes at the sight of me. She refuses to take me in her arms and instead chides my mum for not begetting a son. Dad, who was elated to see me a couple of minutes ago, now looks at me with disappointed eyes. He holds me but I feel no more affectionate caress. While maa and I are alone at night, she cries and holds me tight. "I'm sorry, my dear one they don't know better but mama will always love you."

Maa took a dozen sleeping pills that night. She's never able to fulfill her promise...

 ***************************************************************

Some of you are going to term this post a rather grim perspective at how things are. But believe me people when I say this, girls hide a lot from the world than anyone can possibly imagine. Neither their moms, nor their friends nor their boyfriends ever get to know about such things. In majority of  cases, women take such incidents with them to the grave because of the shame and the stigma attached to it. 
It's time they started speaking out. 

An ode to Alan Rickman- the man who immortalised Severus Snape

Me (to a friend): Alan Rickman passed away.
Friend: Who’s that?
Me:  The actor who played Severus Snape!
Friend:  *in shock*

Snape, though I didn't like him at first, soon became one of my favourite

Perhaps this is how the world really recognized Alan Rickman- the man who played our favourite Severus Snape. Growing up, I am one of the few who first entered the Wizard world via the movies (yes, hate me all that you want) and later got introduced to the books.  I was young, probably around 10 and I H-A-T-E-D his character but always was in awe of him. Those eyes, the way he mouthed each word to perfection. But as the sequels came out, I grew into loving him. The depths and the layers of his characters- an incomplete love story, the under appreciated good guy and Rickman made it all so convincing.  

His incomplete love story was perhaps one of the most tragic parts of the HP series.

And I believe most would agree that he’s one of those few actors who did full justice to the characters in the books. So yes, his demise stirs up a lot of memories because Harry Potter is a significant part of our childhood. It always leaves you in a daze when a character you’ve grown to love and the actor who made it all possible are no longer here in the physical world. It makes you want to curl up in the bed, read the books and watch the movies once again and maybe, maybe cry a little.

After all who can forget his classic dialogues- “You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? Yes, I’m the Half Blood Prince” (I was shocked at this one really) or his constant insults- “Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. ‘Ghosts are transparent’” and of course, the one word that he immortalized- “Always”. 

"After all this time?"
"Always"

The word has almost acquired a religious significance for the Potter fandom.

  

God, I’m tearing up a little, I must admit.

He was perfect in every way, that gorgeous black hair, that bad-ass black gown to go with it, a face that could convey a thousand emotions without saying very little or anything at all. 

Yes, you can cry now.

So imagine a reader’s shock when this news came out, well, here’s an example of a friend who’s a Potterhead-

First stage of grief- denial

I wish he’d lived longer, I wish I’d been able to meet him, but that’s one things off my bucket list but here’s raising our wands to the amazing wizard, actor and human being that he was. 

Here's raising our wands to the Half Blood Prince

“You outraged us when you shapeshifted as Sheriff of Nottingham, awed us as Rasputin, got us to sing in Sweeney Todd, broke our hearts in Love, Actually, made my young girl-muggle feelings all confused in Truly, Madly, Deeply, and won us over as who you are. The person you never wanted to become, your alter ego – beloved, enigmatic Alan Rickman.”
- Sade Andria Zabala Poetry

Review of The Street Lawyer by John Grisham

Okay, first off, John Grisham hands down is one of the best authors EVER. Like this dude’s the epitome of legal bad-assery.  As many know it, his books are almost always related to some “law” theme and every single one of them is a masterpiece. I’ve read three so far- The Litigators, The Tort King and the latest one, The Street Lawyer. 

This book is a masterpiece!

 Grisham has a set framework for every of his novel (atleast so far in all that I’ve read), there is ALWAYS  some hot-shot/ some struggling lawyer who either suddenly becomes famous or leaves his high paying job to struggle and there is ALWAYS a relationship failure (law students, take note) and finally, there is ALWAYS a good prevails over the evil ending. But does it make his novels boring or predictable? The answer would be a resounding no.

Grisham is a master of words, a weaver of stories so intricate and complex; you’d scarcely believe the finesse with which he achieves it. I’ve been in awe of his writing ever since I picked up my first of his, The Litigators. Grisham knows the law and executes it flawlessly, and there is most certainly some moral lesson involved.

So the latest that I read, The Street Lawyer is one of its kind. It starts with a shooting (it’s the USA, what do you expect really?) in a law office where our protagonist is climbing the success ladder, soon to be a partner. He’s taken a hostage but fortunately, the rescue ops are a success and the perpetrator is shot down. But Michael (our protagonist) has developed some kind of PTSD, he goes in a search to find the identity of the guy and when he does, he finds out he was a homeless. This information is provided to him at a free legal clinic by a man named Mordecai (to whom this novel is actually a tribute).

From here starts his journey into the unknown, he leaves his job, his marriage is already falling apart and he figures he has nothing to lose. But before he leaves, he receives a mysterious note regarding some unlawful eviction his firm carried out to give effect to some contract and he ends up stealing a file from the Real Estate branch of his firm. 

What follows is roller coaster ride with Michael visiting shelters, helping the poor and everything. But it is the death of a family of four (a mother and three kids) that jolts him to the core and he takes up the cause of the homeless. So our once potential law firm Partner is now helping people get food stamps (!) while his wife files for divorce (pool ol’ lawyers).

Back to the stolen file, our protagonist lands into a lot of trouble for it- accidents, legal malpractice suit, prison where he gets beaten up, you name it! And what he finds out is *drum roll* S-C-A-N-D-A-L-O-U-S. Apparently, the Real Estate branch of the firm carried out an illegal eviction; the occupants were not “squatters” but actual tenants and *surprise surprise* the shooter and the family of four were also amongst the ones illegally evicted and his firm was involved in a hush-hush cover up of the “dirty act” lest they’d have lost the contract.

So Michael alongwith Mordecai file a suit against the firm which takes the newspapers by storm. What ensues is a constant tug of war between the two sides. Shots are fired and it gets downright mean (welcome to the legal world).  

But yes, it has a happy ending albeit not like you would expect it. But then again, he is John Grisham, he’s mad talented at what he does and he does it like a pro, never disappointing you.  There are certain very endearing incidents, like a homeless addict who’d come to their clinic just because Michael would offer her cookies and “crappy coffee”. You’d love every moment of reading it.

Grisham is the epitome of legal bad-assery!

Yet there is a hidden message underneath these gripping stories- you may win many wars in the courtroom but you’ll lose the battle of justice if your sole purpose is money while you’re practicing law. He doesn’t advocate sacrificing everything but striking a balance between the two. Maybe a little volunteer work here, maybe working a case of a poor person for free there. But as soon as you take up one extreme, you’ve lost direction and your world, professional and personal will fall apart.