Farewells

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I feel like writing an individual note to all those whom I shall be leaving behind. So many people, so many incidents, so many stories, things unsaid...although I do not have the time to write them all, I keep constructing letters in my head and dissolving them thinking what the person will think on receiving those letters. Letters are interesting devices, constantly making you imagine a person in a certain way and thus helping you construct a response. I have so many imaginations of every person that I would end up writing so many letters.

Most of the times, I end up not writing anything imagining unexpected reactions of people on reading them. But there are thousand things to tell - to parents, to friends, to students – all of them. But how valuable it would be for any of them? Who would want to receive them? After all it’s a letter, not an artwork. And neither are people like me who preserve letters from 20 years of history.

I think of whether the letter would assume more value if written by hand, personally, or does the content remain of more importance. This dilemma is as old as the debate between craft and the machine. Our aim with using the hand or the machine is also to do with neatness. We like our letters to be legible, clean and clear, which in some ways also conveys the clarity of content. Does it always mean so? Such letters are notes that talk about the high points of relationships and events between individuals. Parting notes, as most people like to maintain, must be amicable.

I have to write a lot and if I begin writing, I will end up writing a book! But I am waiting for my writing to be fresh now – to go into a new world and think back in a fresh perspective. Although, I have in store a lot of unposted stuff. Let me see how I can get it across.

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On the other hand, it is so encouraging to see people appreciating my written work. Most of them have expressed this by gifting me diaries, notepads, sketch books - all where I can draw, sketch and write. I wonder if I will be able to carry all of it with me. I wish I could. I would have filled up all of it to have an absolutely new archive for a new phase of my life!

I too had gifted myself diaries - ones which I make myself, simple, clean, and plain - purely functional, which I can't romanticize about. I like them cheap - newsprint paper spiral bound between two thick filecards. I like it that way. So whenever someone gifts me a diary, I preserve it, since it is far too precious than  my humble notepads. I find my notepads have their own character, which I do not hesitate to spoil. They allow me to be myself, without being conscious about maintaining them fresh. I had written about the idea of 'preserving newness' some time ago on my blog. And it's a strong dilemma I have to get over all the time. 

By now, I have about 15 notepads / diaries / books which I have never used. I always had a secret desire to fill up my entire cupboard by my own writings, notes, sketches, drawings. I do not really have any thing fancy  (expensive books, etc.) in my cupboard. All I have is collections from events, of places and of things - from there and there, that constantly remind me of what I have done and have been doing. They remind me of what shall be the logical next step for this journey...

Sometimes, I find it too hard to leave all this behind me. Of this little cupboard I have, I love every object stored in it - they have come into it with a lot of toil. I hope to keep building it up :)

Let's see how it develops from now...