Deleted an erstwhile post on Bobby Darin and his famous song “18 Yellow Roses” because it verged upon things too personal. And I am not here to discuss anything personal except for that which I consider to be an ode to peace. As mentioned in an earlier post, most of my writings revolve around the concept of peace, or things related to peace (could be emotions too). I tend to avoid violence in my writings, unless of course they are tangentially related to peace in some manner. And coming back to the concept of peace, the word has been used and abused in a million ways (if we take diplomacy and international relations into account). In the social context, peace may mean different things to different societies. For some merely procuring food every day can denote peace, and for others rallies and revolutions bring forth the same. In my writings (those which are literary in nature and not academic at all), peace features in ways that are both realistic as well as metaphoric. I believe in the concept of the internal monologue, which often becomes the primary backbone of my novels. Maybe I have picked it up from writers like Emily Bronte, Thomas Hardy, Virginia Woolf and J.M. Coetzee. They have always been my favorites. Their words cajole limpidness from within sentences. Their writings transport the reader to other worlds where dreams and internal worlds hang heavy over external stimuli.

In my case, I attempt to delve deeper into the concept of peace. Both at the societal level as well as at the cerebral level. Internal monologues are essential for any human being to not only understand and evaluate this world, but also to assess his or her relation with the outer world. We are a part of this outer world and yet technically we are not. We tend to be suspended somewhere in between. We wish to talk to ourselves, but the outer world rushes in each morning with its share of duties and obligations, and tends to tear us away from all those unspoken conversations that could have happened. This is something none can avoid. Even the most dedicated writer may try to lock himself up his study and block all kinds of external distractions, fails at some point. The outside world will rush in and overturn all those well constructed thoughts, till nothing remains except odd scraps of conversations that we have held with ourselves and our characters.

I am no exception to the above. I tend to hold my internal monologues or rather dialogues with peace as often as I can. Yet the world tends to come between us. Between me and myself. Between my conversations with peace, love, and other emotions that are essential for the survival of every human being in this fast paced consumer-oriented world. The Internal monologue has become more necessary today than it was ever during earlier times. We live in a world dominated by fast paced thoughts, images and sounds. We are seldom thrown into an environment that is languid and slow. We tend to sprint through each day with the energy of a marathon runner. In such a scenario it is difficult to converse with peace let alone cultivate the same.

Still, the hope remains. As writing remains. And so does the eternal attraction of literature. Someday in some quiet corner of the world, peace will once again unfold and fall in waves over all those willing to encourage conversations with it. Amen to that !

Au revoir ! And live in peace….and I return back like a prodigal writer to my manuscripts.

PS: Congratulations Vivaldi on integrating Vivaldi Social (Mastodon) into the browser. I am a bit wary of using the same since I prefer a life away from anything social (online or offline), but I sincerely hope that more members join this venture and acquire the much needed freedom from big corporations as well as from social media despots. Good luck !