1:
I read somewhere that a Scottish artist, Katie Paterson, has curated “The Future Library Project”. It started in 2014 with the idea of exploring time and trust as a concept. Every year, one chosen writer gets to submit a book that will not be read/seen/scrutinized by anyone for another 100 years. In 2114, she would have a collection of 100 books with thoughts suffocated, waiting desperately to be known and heard. Neither Katie nor these writers would most likely be alive.
An entire forest is being built in Norway to publish their manuscript after a century.
What would these writers write about? Maybe the pressure of having to say something substantial even after 100 years?
Who knows.
2:
Who farted in a room
3:
The inexplicable pain of watching your wife being raped, finding parts of your child’s body only you recognize, familiarising yourself with the deafening sounds of bombs, aircraft, and sirens, never crossing paths with lovers, and helplessly witnessing the destruction of an entire civilization to an extent where no traces of its existence are even left.
It was Diwali morning, and I had decided to consciously put in the effort to fill it with happy thoughts. The sudden bursting of crackers during my sleep and at random hours of the day left my heart pounding. I wanted it to stop. I couldn’t help but think of Gaza. Nobody deserves to know or experience the pain Gaza has been subjected to.
4:
The actual reason why your ex left you, not what they claimed to be the actual.
5:
You walk into your therapist’s room, fully aware of what is to come. Yet, you tell yourself, there’s only so much I will give her access to, so much she can view and analyze. One thing triggers another, and before you know it, everything you planned on not sharing oozes out of your mouth. You’re exposed. She knows the shame you’ve been carrying, the guilt you hide, that one mistake you will carry to your grave.
She validates you, but a part of you wonders what she really thinks of you as a co-human being?
6:
If Ilayathalapathy Vijay and Trisha are dating?
Just kidding.
It is none of our business, friends.
7:
Often, the grip on the vessels in the kitchen would be lost, words would falter, and the pin on her saree folding would pop out and be visible as she failed her driving test three times. They would say it’s simple, it’s common sense.
A single word wouldn’t be uttered. The young woman would walk away baffled – What was wrong if the head of a safety pin was seen?
Years later, when she drove her daughter around, she would ask, “What did you want to be, ma?”
“IAS officer”, she would reply and smile.
The daughter paused and looked at her, lifting an eyebrow.
She waited.
“I would be a fashion designer”, her mother replied and parked the bike at the nearby restaurant.
Tears welled up. The stolen lives of mothers are a burden that daughters carry for the rest of their lives.
8:
Who are those people that would show up when you die?
9:
Why words that emote two crucial aspects of sustenance and pleasure are trapped in something bitter – Why is love trapped inside the world clove, why is laughter trapped inside slaughter?