Friday 1st May 2018

by Siddharth Soni

My apologies for not being able to put anything here for the last couple of weeks could not as easily be befitting. The reason, that perhaps partially befits the status quo is the press release of my book – ‘New to the Crew.’ For a writer, and particularly for one who cares for literature as his religion, there is nothing more pleasing than gazing at your craftsman ideas with satisfaction. There could be nothing more continuing than feeling a gleeful presence of an intimate smell of paper that creep up from the neatly arranged decks of your own books. There could, by the rules of human belongingness, nothing more romantic than seeing your own baby taking its first step in the wide and open field called life. This might well explain why we are so special towards something that is written by our own self. Your own poems, your words, your phrases- which are promptly written with utter intimacy and honesty, something which is not cheated, copied or called self by force – They feel like your daughters.

And for a father, there could admissibly be nothing that feels more individual than his daughter. Such is the blend of emotions inside me for these weeks that I feel more tending to the finest ever things I have put on paper. It was December in 2007 and the cold those days was like the militant guns engaged to your forehead. And I took the first pile of Dista Kaagaz in my hands and took a small jigsaw to bind the loose sheets together. When I started writing, I had never thought of making a press release within boundaries that span countries and territories, and a class of readership that never sleeps.

Writing a book is so easy. Take a pen in your hand and keep staring at the blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.

Maybe that was how I started with few couples of underdone words. And I kept writing it for the next three months only to sit back and read one day that what I have written could be the nastiest thing to be written on paper. And I rented the cheap piles of Dista Kaagaz into scattered pieces of enigma. I blubbered and I cried for the next three months of my life until I met someone telling me;

“A book can never be written” I watched him with bankness, “Then what ??”
“It can only be rewritten…”

And I realised that there was no book written on the first attempt. “After all” I told myself, “Not everyone can be the tolstoy on the first try.” The next four months of my life was proofreading, editing, writing again and again, scratching foreheads and delaying toilet encounters if I did not meet the deadline. Writing a book was difficult, but never impossible.


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One Response to “Writing a book ??”

  1. NV says:

    Hello Siddharth,

    I purchased your New to the Crew few months back and just finished reading it. You are a bron storyteller but I think you still require more guidance. Best of luck with the book. Though not very good, it is still readable… :-)

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