Acknowledgements, and Thanks

It’s been more than 2 weeks since I went silent. The silence was not without reason. I thought that I had come close to the end of my creative ability, but that’s where it took off once again. Creative enterprise is not what many people think it is: the coming up with something new every time you decide to do something different; it is, in reality, the ability to trans-create something which has already been experienced, but in a new, fresh, captivating way, that makes the reader actually think: “I could have done that myself!”

Take the example of the latest International Booker Prize winner, our very own neighbour from Karnataka, Banu Mushtaq. She re-creates the experience of her fellows, using language that exhibits “resilience and nuance”. What wonderful words from the panel that acknowledges that language, any human language—Kannada, in this instance—can transcend barriers and speak to the heart of MAN direct. The panel also recognized that the “radical translation” of Deepa Bhasthi allows the global bibliophile to lap up the “plurality of Englishes” now available to every reader the world over. I wish to record my appreciation, to the duo, for they have made us all proud.

I have already stated that creativity is not always the emergence of a brand-new idea—the flesh made Word, if I may. In some cases, there may be a “Eureka” moment, but that has to be followed up with a flurry of activity so that the nascent idea flourishes and finally bears fruit. This sequence takes a while, and sometimes a mellowness permeates the body of work, fresh, yet deep-rooted, something like a little dye swept up in the oceans of time, lost in that great magnitude—of the flesh made word, down the centuries—but there, all the same.

So, is there no real originality in anything that we say or do or write about? If we are believers, we accept the fact of creation. But what happens next? Yes, man has evolved and scaled greater and greater heights. This has happened everywhere, but we are still aeons away from Paradise. Why is it that the greatest minds of all time have all made the same pronouncement—but in a myriad different ways—that “our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts”? Is “long-suffering” a condition entrenched in the human heart, the human mind and the human soul? Your guess is as good as mine, dear Reader.

Reading, dear Reader, is the solace of all thinking men and women. It is our one sure source of wisdom. And that is why so very few people ever read. We do not desire wisdom today; we just want to get by. The entertainment industry has given us more crap that we can imbibe in many lifetimes. And we, slaves to what we think is progress, remain glued to our idiot-boxes or our smart-phones.

This is the reason why I must bid you all farewell. With your support, dear Reader, I have scored a half-century of blog posts. To tell you the truth, there have been no adverse comments by any of you. However, the bouquets have not poured in, too. As one of you said, the situation is simply what it is and, like the character from “Mad” magazine, I must learn to grin and bear it.

Fortunately, all is not lost. I have a new book ready for publication—perhaps in the next few months. I’ll let you know, on Facebook, when it gets released.

That’s that, I’m afraid. This is me, Bryan, signing off; over and out.