Ishaisms, Reflections

Absolutely random post but if you are the kind of reader I think you are, you’ll get the message…

DisclaimerDear reader, no brain cell was exploited in the thinking and writing of this post. Any resemblance to the kind of posts that you may have come to expect from Ishaisms is purely impossible, (although mild and poor attempts have been made at it at the introduction and conclusion). However, if you’d like to read some absolutely random thoughts and take a peeping-tom-ish glimpse into how the brain of this writer works, you are most welcome.

On cold days with horror-movie possession metaphor

Dear reader, ’tis the beginning of that season at home, the mists rising, damp beads glistening upon leaves, and from some remote corner of the town, the faint, tickling fumes of burning logs… Sometimes the fog envelops the town in its fold and all you can see for miles is the rising mist, the towering pines pulling heavy blankets over them that sweep across the sky, threatening the town with impending showers…and strong winds, and a chilly day that will surely possess you like a misty spirit and last for days unless you protect yourself beforehand with charms of warmth and extra layers, for sunshine cannot be relied upon in this town…

On Hogwarts and Wuthering Heights and such other ‘feels’ I get from my town during this season.

This season feels different given the current climate, pun intended, which is like being in the steaming, haze laced, Hogwarts express, with no where to go…but within. And think, and write. Perhaps that is why most people who ever wrote great books were ones who were trapped, by circumstance or by choice… I think only of the BrontΓ« sisters when I say “most people” here. My thoughts of windy moors, and truly rich writing, start and end in Wuthering Heights. Perhaps that is why people in the most confined circumstances read a great deal, created great fictional sets and characters or came up with great inventions, skills and artistic knowledge…becoming unknowingly, the fittest to survive…emotionally.

On ‘be careful what you wish for for you just might get it’.

The world often spoke with longing of being in another time, or with envy over how times were simpler for our parents and ancestors, or with sorrowful resignation about how technology is taking over the world and making everything impersonal and fast paced. Well, looks like nature just forced us into a do-over. Everything is slower and as personal as it gets. Everything is reminiscent of earlier times and technology has adjusted to it – something no one in the last five hundred years or so (hyperbole, not statistic) deemed possible…

On hope and (wordpress) writers.

I know that this post is getting hopelessly long, but I don’t really know how to end it. I should end it right here but it doesn’t seem right…I usually like to leave on a note of hope – but I don’t really know how, today. Not that I don’t have hope – I do, even when the days are terribly stressful, I cling on to it, like my boatman clung to his dagger the day he set off to murder the moneylender… (This is a reference, and spoiler to my boatman series – I’m alluding to it so I feel like a great writer whose work is worthy enough to be alluded to). Anyway, so yeah, hope. Writing this post, has helped me see that no matter what, there is certainly hope in a new day. So many new possibilities. So many new things one can do. I cannot speak for everyone, but I am a writer and can certainly speak for us writers here – work on that novel you’ve always been putting off, work on a new genre of writing, or create your own, be part of a writing challenge or anything you can do to write more. I may not have words of great hope for the global collective, but I know I can reach the writers whose quarantine posts on sorrow and hopelessness have made me think and feel for them. Maybe it will help you see through the mist and spot that coveted ray of sunshine that suddenly breaks through and brightens everything, as the threat of rain dissipates into thin air and the song birds break into a tune that you finally can hear, not because they’re only singing it now, but because you chose to listen.

Β© Isha Garg

26 thoughts on “Absolutely random post but if you are the kind of reader I think you are, you’ll get the message…”

      1. That means a lot to me, Social Vigilante! It seems grave to diffuse the tension these days – anxiety is at an all time high and humour is so important in these times.
        Happy to hear from you!


  1. Curiosity seeks randomness at times. It’s equally important to go off track because you might catch a new train. If you don’t you can always come back, past stays the same.

    The post wasn’t long but rather it resembles our mind which are turning into deserts waiting for an eternal rain.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh dear! Dry humour to grim humour. And this comes after I just read an Instagram post that said we might have to maintain social distancing till 2022! Worst new decade ever!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Isha, I must say this is one of your best posts; perhaps because it felt as though you just wrote down everything that goes on inside my head! The lines, “sometimes the fog envelops the town in its fold and all you can see for miles is the rising mist, the towering pines pulling heavy blankets over them that sweep across the sky, threatening the town with impending showers”, is so nostalgic, reminds me of my hill home. Sigh! And the reference to the BrontΓ« sisters. Wuthering Heights is one of my favourite books and I would do anything to go and live in a tiny cottage across moorlands, where the rain falls in sheets and all I would do is walk around and read and be happy! And Hogwarts, if only it were real. I love the ending of finding hope, of realising that the mist is but temporary and the birds were there all the time, the sun will shine forth. There is hope. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Parikhit. I love that comment, especially “where the rain falls in sheets”. I think I might just have to pick up Wuthering Heights for another read! Thank you for calling this one of my best posts – I was wondering if I’d done the right thing in posting this rubbish, incoherent piece. πŸ˜€

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Honestly randomness makes more sense than all the sensed words put together! This post especially strikes a chord, the sense of a home, pine trees, mist, rain. πŸ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Ah I know it must have struck a chord with you after reading your posts! Like you said, the hill connect! Hope you’re doing well and writing more poetry!

        P.S. I’m sorry I missed this comment, Parikhit. Must’ve been when WP was misbehaving!

        Liked by 1 person

  3. It is fascinating to trace the progression of thought by correspondents and writers we now have the quarantine-inspired time to follow. From the get go, it was a relief for me to engage now more fully in conversation with individuals around the world. The alternative in the early days of alarm was to mop up mass media reports given by grim faced reporters, armed with even grimmer statistics and their evening summaries read from shiny. Reports by unsmiling anchors at ever-increasing physical distance from one another. Your work, Isha, is always about life, whether that be life in the past, present or future. You keep your readers spell bound as you wrap your stories and poems like vines around a framework of your reading and thought, where fantasy, fiction and emotion grow from your pen around the imaginations of your readers. We readers do not know what lies ahead, but we have each other as we enter a new age that is on our horizon like a towering anvil cloud, casting shadows and sending out flashings and rumblings. We are wise to be wary, but we know also that new life will shoot from the gound when this storm passes. Your delightful writing proclaims that hope loud and clear. Thank you so much!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Xavier, Xavier…. How do I even begin to reply to that? Your thoughts are so rich and thought provoking in themselves that nothing you say seems short of a blog post in itself – inspiring and engaging. I enjoyed “tracing the progression of your thoughts” in my turn, with the grim faced reporters and statistics. What humbled me was the beautiful, beautiful way in which you described my writing. I’m so touched I don’t think I can say anything in reply but a big thank you! The images you so effortlessly weave into your expression are artistically breathtaking! Thank you!


      1. You are welcome. Just keep writing when you can. The world will discover your talent in time. Though that seems not to be your primary motivation. Maybe that is why you are so creative.

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Very inspiring.

    How many people peer through their windows at all the things they once took for granted. The trees, the nosy neighbor, the traffic, the sky. What was once a “routine” is now missed. Hopefully, we all learned a valuable lesson from this pandemic.

    There are no promises for tomorrow. Life is fragile. And most importantly, stop and smell the flowers. There is so much we took for granted.

    In my case I assure you – nevermore.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. A heart full of such beautiful love and goodness, is already strong, I’m sure. But as your friend I can’t help but worry a little. Wish you all the best, Drew! Travel safe and be well! πŸ’›

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes. A new dawn indeed. I believe in your strength and my prayers, and with both, the new dawn will be as smooth in transition from the night as the sunlit mountain into a sparkling rivulet.

        Liked by 1 person

  5. Even at your most random, dear writer (pun intd), you sound coherent, and wise.

    I mean, after the dear reader gets over your excesses about nature, Hogwarts and the misty moors. That getting over, however, brings most of the smiles.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Excesses about nature πŸ˜‚ ESP has been known to call Ishaisms out on excesses and shortcomings so I accept that humbly! Glad to have brought smiles at least – that is one excess that works πŸ™‚


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