Today was a beautiful day.

The world spoke to me and the day invited me to seek and soak out the sun and everything it touched

“Get out!” it screamed and that’s what I did!

I have been living in Nottingham for quite some while and it was the first time I had heard of Night Lights- a celebration of lights and art! 

There were many events being held in different parts of the town! 

It was only very few times that one would come across this celebration! 

So, I took the chance and it gave me a reason to go out and explore! 

A reason to discover and to connect! 

An event that caught my attention was one organized by the Green’s Windmill and Science Centre! It offered visitors to view the night lights of the city from a height. My lust for the lights convinced me to go and feast

I did go to the windmill once with my father and we had to climb four flights of steep stairs to reach the top. 

Each step to the view that awaited was a step closer to my heart clenching. 

The reason for my heart to cry out in danger were because of the large gaps between each step.

My brain convinced me that I would slip through those gaps and break the bones or my body or my head

So, my father held my hand and helped me face my fear to climb them. 

I trusted my fears to leave me as soon I held my father’s hand who led the way. 

My fear subsided but never left.

Cutting back to the present, I forgot about those steps and went to see the light.

As soon as I entered the mill, my eyes fell upon those cruel spaces between those stairs. 

My fears came back and I almost decided to abandon my quest to see my love, but I took a brave step and started the ascent 

It was terrifying but my feet led the way and my heart dropped further and further. 

Upon reaching each level, I looked out those small windows and let my eyes gaze upon the skies and then stared with awe at the lights twinkling in the dusk

I couldn’t get enough from each floor and the desire to see more kept me going further and further upon the stairs 

It was terrifying with each step and when I looked down at my feet climbing them, my heart and my body shivered but the desire was stronger than ever. 

As, I finally reached the top, relief and accomplishment showered upon me

I DID IT ALL BY MYSELF! 

I for the first time successfully without anyone’s lending hand faced the daunting fear of these god forsaken stairs

However, my challenge did not end there.

I had to come back to the ground and climbing down somehow was much worse 

To see all the huge gaps at one go as you walk down was my doom 

I carefully took all the time the world offered and let my feet step down onto each step slowly as a tortoise. 

The rest was history but I reached the ground. 

I had completed the ascent! 

No matter how small the adventure or challenge is, once completed, nothing can ever amount to the greatness you feel!

One day, one adventure

Many more to go

To capture this state of euphoria, I wrote down my thoughts and I couldn’t be more serendipitous. 

Out of this day came a work of art that I am proud of.

Sometimes, I do it for the words and sometimes, I do it for the adventures. 

Today, I did it for both. 

Back to the roots, a celebration.

August 19th, Sunday, 8:53 AM

( PS: Based on true events.

This whole piece was written in a drive to Abu Dhabi in a car, all handwritten. I have modified some of it a bit, but everything in this was written down in the book.

Attached at the end are the pictures of the piece I wrote in my book whilst on the drive. Do pardon me for my handwriting.

Before you all think why I chose the picture above as my feature image, it’s because I really like this picture and well it’s a celebration. I really like the song Hymn For The Weekend and it’s music video. It gave me a very good vibe just like how writing this piece did. So I felt like this captured what I felt during writing. I didn’t want to upload the classic pen and paper as my feature image, thought of doing it a different way. )

 

I have decided to go old school today. Back to the roots of writing. Back to a common man’s tool, the pen and paper.

Being so engrossed with my laptop and keyboard, I have truly forgotten how it feels to hold a pen in my hand and write what flows from my mind into a book filled with blank pages.

This idea quickly sprung upon me when my father decided to take myself and my mom to Abu Dhabi. a 2 hour drive.

Staring out to the buildings, the views of the sand and the watching the buildings rise up to the sky with the sunlight gleaming on them, looking at the whole of skyline in the comforts of my car. Looking at all those above views, I was pretty sure somewhere in my mind, I would be buzzing and itching to write something. I could have noted it all down in the notes section of my phone but I would loose the previlge of writing with a pen in my hand and I would have lost the opportunity to loose myself into the process of writing on this wonderful inspirational drive.

Before embarking on this drive, I was in the comfort of my sofa/bed watching a wonderful heartwarming movie, ” You’ve got mail.” A movie filled with simple yet charmatistic mentalities. Words, humorous personas, encounters and last but not the lease, the profounding quotes spoken by the characters. This played a role behind the inspiration today. ” To go back to the roots. ”

Now, as I am writing, I am in the comfort of the backseat of my car, writing with a pen in my book listenting to the businnes breakfast 103.8 reflecting on my surroundings and everything around me.

If this was my laptop, the grammarly softwarre embedded would have been correcting everything forcing my brain not to even apply the basic rules of grammar, spelling and work into what I write. During this process, my brain is forced but with a gentle push and nudge to apply the basic rules into what I write.

I forgot what this felt like. It is a nice yet overwheming feeling having a pen to pen down all my thoughts into a book. I still could have chosen the later option of noting it down in the notes app but why did I decide to do this? Why in the car whilst going on a drive?

Perhaps I was looking for an inspiration. Probably I needed an execuse to detach myself from my laptop. Maybe I needed this to remind this experience to remind me of the beauties and wonder of the feeling I once had, the feeling of writing using my pen and paper. It felt warm and nice to be reminded of that long last feeling and the joys that it gave me.

As I look out from the small window of the car, I see skycrapers all around me on one side and construction work on the other.  Conversations spark in the car about various topics of disucussion including myself. I sense discomfort in the air and I am quick and wise to go and seek the comfort of my penship because it feels safe.

The world and everything in it is changing.  I feel happy looking at it, my home for 18 years. Then, I feel a trail of sadness looking at it. The thought of leaving it could be the reason. The thought of leaving my family and friends upsets me, but then there is an excitement to return back but also follows the dread of leaving my mom, dad and friends behind. It’s a conflicting feeling.

Changes are different and hard to grasp and believe. Even the slightest move in my world affects me. It’s hard to describe my feelings to to change, that concept is a baffling one for me. It’s for the good and bad, like many of the other things I know. I simply cannot grasp and get hold of how I feel towards it.

To describe how I feel towards it, I have stringed down together a few words that I think could capture my views.

Like the waves of the sea behave, up and down, high and low, strong or mellow;

Like the wind, easy and breezy, cold or warm, harsh or soft, destruction or mellow;

Like that, I change my views and feels to the emodiment of change.

There is another quote as well that reflects a part of what I feel towards change. A quote from the movie You’ve got mail.

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I am glad I took upon the experience of writing this down with my pen in my book. I am happy that I was able to take a quick descison just before leaving for the drive, to take my pen and book. It felt absoultely joyous and warm to head back to the roots, where the process of writing took place.

Once in a while, I think we should all go back to the roots of writing. It gives you a nice sense of feeling.

( PS: Of course however I wish there was a machine that could just copy my writing into what I am writing right now, it’s complicated, because I kind of find it a menace to write the whole thing over in my laptop again but this was worth it. )

My mind and the thought process of it are overflowing with numerous thoughts, but for some reason, I can’t seem to write them down. The irony of it all. I have a pen, I have a book and I have the words. Then why can’t I?

I look outside, the commentary in the radio is interesting but I want my eyes and brain to rest for a while. I look outside and I can myself drown in the drowsiness of my weary and tired self.

I feel like a writer now. A writer in search for words and stories. A writer in touch and connect with one’s self. A writer with a mind keen to write.

This feels like something out of the movies. A movie where a lost writer goes out to a new place in search for inspiration and stories to write or is in search for his lost identitiy or set on a path to discover something.

I am starring in that movie right now, my own life, a movie, but I don’t know what I am searching for. I am on a car ride going to a place, far away from where I live. I am in a car simply enjoying what I am doing right now, writing with a pen in the paper.

Farewell for now.

 

( As promised, here lies the pictures of the piece in the book I have wrote.)