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The well of my stories has not dried up – I have many stories to tell you. Like Anupam Kher says in Santosh Sivan’s forthcoming film, Tahaan, set in Kashmir: Mere liye to zindagi ek dastaan hai.
But it’s just that I am increasingly struggling with right words and a right beginning.
I also have a book to finish and at least two major assignments are to be done from Kashmir. That means I will have to go through bundles of documents on issues like Naxalism and mining in the next two days. In between, I will also have to write mails, make phone calls for appointments, take print outs of flight tickets and money from the accounts department.
Two days later, I will have to be in Kashmir.
I am also seriously pursuing running. When I began a few weeks ago, after throwing a brand new packet of cigarettes out of my car, I could barely run two hundred metres. Afterwards, I would clutch my chest and, sometimes, hold my waist for supporting my back. Now, I can run up to two kilometres. So, between running and walking, I do about eight kilometres every day.
This Sunday, at six in the morning (Yes, I get up at six these days!), along with a mountaineer friend, I went to the Lodhi gardens, and ran the entire jogging track thrice. Later, we had a buffet breakfast at eight at the nearby American Diner inside the Habitat Centre.
I intend to run a half marathon before this year ends.
Some friends have asked for a better pic of my bookshelf. I am finding it a bit embarrassing to do so. But, let me tell you, I have bought eight books in the past one week, which includes an anthology of poetry and A Blue Hand by Deborah Baker.
So far as reading is concerned, I have just finished Hari Kunzru’s The Impressionist and regret not reading it earlier. I am now reading Herzog by Saul Bellow. I like Bellow very much and am desperately looking for one of his novels called Humboldt’s Gift. I have also been searching, in vain, for Heinrich Boll’s Billiards At Half-past Nine.
If you find them anywhere, please buy them for me.
