Dear reader, I remember it was somewhere around February 2018, the second month of my blogging journey, that someone I know had remarked on the number of posts I had been putting up on Ishaisms! “What if you run out of all your written works and are left with nothing one day?” was the thought spoken out loud – that though defended by me in all earnest, with verbose descriptions on how the muse never dies and how the desire to create is as real a part of a writer’s life as breathing – I couldn’t help but wonder, and water those seeds of doubt and fear, giving in to the proverbial ‘what if?’
It was then that I began shuffling the pages of my diary hoping for inspiration to alight upon me magically, and came across an old poem about boats and waters. That did the trick… I began to see waters, a dark night..starless, of course, and smelt a faint cigarette smoke… There, on the harbour, standing hatless, was this gaunt looking man (bit of a sexy smoulder going on too, if you ask me) – and a thick atmosphere of fear surrounding the whole thing. Then, not far away, I saw a boat swaying with the waves, slowly clearing up through the light mist, and revealing a middle aged, thin – (albeit with a strength possessed by those that physically labour on a regular basis) man; and before I knew it, I had fifteen lines of poetry before me. (The Boatman and the Traveller)
Not entirely satisfied, I read and re-read it – moved a few commas here and there and sent it to someone whose literary opinion I hold in great esteem, for feedback. Relieved upon getting the green light from there and also at having written a poem on a blah day, I slept like a baby – confident now that poetry did not depend solely on inspiration, and that, when need be, inspiration can be summoned.
Around mid year, someone remarked upon how they loved the doodle in the first part and made me revisit the poem on my blog just before bed; and I woke up in the middle of the night, gripped with inspiration for the next part. (The Boatman and the Mother).
It was then, if memory serves me right, that some dear blogger friends egged me on for more parts. Unsure, yet desirous of testing my theory (of summoning inspiration), I began penning the next, and was beside myself with elation when it worked out. By then, not only did I know that inspiration was merely a call away, but also that the story had more to tell.
In time my thought came to fruition and proved to be rightly conceived, and the first ever poetic series of my life was born, with two doodles to boot!
What a beautifully challenging journey it has been, full of self discovery and development!
I would like to take the opportunity to extend a note of thanks to the bloggers who played a big role in its continuation; the followers of Ishaisms and my dear friends and family who followed this series (convinced, I might add, that the Boatman was the bad guy)!
If you haven’t done it before, dear reader, I encourage you to write a series.
Until next time,
© Isha Garg