The Ideas kept coming all night, like the mad gush of
water when a dam is felled. Sleep was nigh on impossible as the army of images,
scenarios, snippets of Words and stray phrases rammed against the castle gates
of my mind. Yet the fortress held; manned by General Instinct with the strength
and wits of a seasoned castellan, though the attack set the nerves and veins
tingling with a zinging energy – the way guards and sentinels buzz upon
spotting assaulting enemies from atop the battlements. Again and again the
swarm of Ideas hammered the doors, relentless and merciless to the nightly rest
of the household within the keep.
Perhaps it would have been easier if I had yielded, and
allowed the Writing Ideas to storm the castle, because either way, insomnia would
have ensnarled me. Even now, a mere five hours since Sleep took over the
command and shuttered my senses to quell the sounds of conquest, my eyes are
snapped back open at the softest touch of early morning sunrays. But this time
round, the tide has turned and my mood has shifted; I am welcoming the host of
Ideas, and trailing them a mile back, the horde of Words.
Already, my heart is drumming erratically to the song of
the coming Words. The sounds of flapping banners herald the column, singing the
prelude to the march in a sweet anthem of whispers and sighs. Adventure,
Sci-Fi, Romance, Horror, Memoir, Fantasy – the ranks go on, till the horizon
blurs in a profusion of Genres. A tourney will be held, to be sure, to allow the
various Genres to joust for the honored place on my Blank Paper.
As the Writer in me receives the Words’ gift of a pair of
chunky, crescent shape necklaces in shades of black for my eyes to wear proudly,
exhaustion nips at me playfully, hoping that I would give in and let it lead me
to bed. Not that I would; when Words call, I answer gladly. Fatigue and sleep
deprivation are a small price to pay for the joy of a complete written art.
Nothing comes for free, but there are certain things in
life that are worth paying for.
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