Friday, March 23, 2012

Why can’t I be a writer?

No offence but pun intended.
First of all, my history is as blatant as it can be. I am not from a prestigious college, so, half my chances of narrating my experiences are gone. I didn’t have a professor who was against me for all four years or a friend who could bring the US down. Even a description of me at the end of the book could be very blank.

“Subhashree Srinivasan studied at Madha Engineering college, just like her 3 lakh counter parts of Tamil Nadu. She managed an MBA. Hell! Who cares from where? It’s not the IIMs”

So, the publications will not even lift an eyebrow if I said the book was narrating my academic experiences. I am lost into the labyrinth of mediocrity and randomness. Jargons do play a role, you know!

Born into a country of high emotional quotient, I have lost the race there too. I didn’t have a boyfriend who left me to pursue his career. If he did, it would have been a book. Coming from a girl, it would have actually been a personal diary of sympathy. The only other who would have read it are the ones who broke up from their boyfriends. I would dedicate it to all those who were/are/will be in love. I think that pretty much covers everyone.

“I miss the hands. Those warm fingers fondling my hair.I missed the sense that spread emotions of all layers into my body. Love,protection and care. That is what he was. I missed him.I missed him like hell.”

I am less creative. I can’t make wizards out of normal people, vampires to fall in love with the werewolves or even make God a human being! It is my inability to think out of box that restricts me to write anything at all. I am the one who is satisfied with non-fiction boring narrations of mamis and their filter coffees.

“Its eyes glistened in the dark. It paved its way to the prey. Prey in an ”out of world” form. Its breathing heavily tinted with blood. The sky turned orange helping it to move faster down the path. The dusk was nearing, so, was the death of the enemy”

My gender hinders. I mean, think about it. If a guy wanted to make a joke, it is usually crude language. I can’t use it. Either I would be considered a desperate person or too conservative to make a point. There are no grey shades if I wrote something.

“He was hot. Err..tall and simple. He wore an aura that spelt genius. He was like Greek god. He ya, hot.”

It is an unfair world that doesn’t let anyone write in peace.

You write about your caste, million will frown. You write about Bhagavad Gita, Russians will ban it. You translate the works of a Tamil author, the essence is lost. You write about sex, enough is enough. If you write about war, movies will be copied from it. You write about the UFOs, controversies would be created. Apparently, I am lost in the blank pages that will make no sense to anyone.

“Unfair propagation towards the religion that might cause wars”-The Guardian
“The names are already taken by me in my book. I need right-full credit”- Kootan Boogat
“I don’t like it because it can’t be made into a movie” – TajKumar Biriyani
I am not done yet. I have one more big worry which all other authors do it with ease. To whom will I dedicate the book to?
To my father, who believed that benzene structure made more sense than my English?
To my mother, who felt all my books smelt like her sambhar
To my sister, who intends to write better books.
To my friends, who asked to throw away my MBA degree and asked me to write.
To my cousins, who were the greatest and the most proactive critics.
To my hostel mirror, to which I shouted, “what the hell am I doing now?”
Now, you tell me, with so much prejudice and faulty imaginations, where and how can I write? I only can crib in many pages that my writing will not be accepted.

So, all the world’s a stage. But I am thoroughly misplaced!

Sniff. Sob. Mental trauma. 


karthick r said...

Don't be harsh on yourself. :)
And I don't agree that your gender has anything to do with what you write. As long it is genuine and has the connect factor your posts will sell like 'hawt hawt bajjis'.
And whats with MBA grads and their obsession to write?

~ cheers.!

Meenu said...

One word - Publish!!!!

You dont deserve the A/c rooms and the cushion roller chairs. You dont deserve the monthly salaries or the pick up cabs. What you need are the coffee shops and your pen and paper. May be the lovely Macbook or the Dell notepad... but start letting your imagination run wild and start scripting your masterpiece!!

I can bet that you will rule the world with your words :)

Subs said...


Hahahaha! I just happened to notice woman's humour in books. It is subtle and never crude.

It is a mutual feeling, I guess. When you have done MBA, you have to show off :P


Still not sure :) But then, its there on my mind . Thanks a lot Meenu. You are forever sweet :)

Vince said...

Agree with Meenu here. Just start publishing.

Keep writing, keep pushing for feedback from others, and when you feel its decent enough, publish it.

If you are afraid people may not like it, and hence spoil your reputation, then get a pseudonym. :D

I find it easy to crib about the chains in life too. Cribbing might be a good outlet for negative emotions, might even get a few hundred "like"s on facebook, a few hundred followers on twitter. But its the actual output of a body of work, drawn from your blood, sweat and tears, that will make you a success.

Subs said...


Thanks a lot :)

I will. I will :)

Anonymous said...

You should take your work to people not on your Facebook friend list. I find that friends and family more often tend to say nice things because of who they are to you. That said, even writers like Rowling were rejected by publishers for years before they hit gold. I would suggest you market your work in the chetan Bhagat category when you take it to the publishers.

Subs said...


So, does that make the article good or bad? Didnt get your intention :-/

Munmun Singh said...

You are an awesome writer and given the constraints you mentioned in the post, you’re doing a brilliant jon with the options left out for you. And I don’t agree with the part that says you’re less creative. You rock. You have a long way to go.

Captain Planet - In search of greatness - Part 2

Read the Chapter 1 here ********* He was a giant, matted between the blur of cigarette smokers and women with laced socks who groan...