Free writing...tried it before?

We used to have this exercise in college during our so-called 'Writing skills' classes...Free writing. (It's besides the point that all writing is free, considering the money most people - the likes of Rushdie and Archer and wannabe NRI-who-knows-India-as-Amma-and-Amma's-pickles Arundhathi Roy not included - make out of it is next to nothing.)

This kind of free writing was practiced to get the pen to flow as freely as one's thoughts. It was to remove whatever writer's block each one of us nurtured in our heads. (Like, "i need to smoke up before i can write man!") The idea was to put pen to paper and keep filling it, without giving the ink any respite. The idea was to just let your thoughts...flow.

Miracle of miracles, it never failed to work.

I'm facing that kind of a block right now, the reason being - Ohmigod I'm writing a blog! Something that'll be read by millions, trillions, gazillions! (Assuming there's life on other planets, that is.) I can't just write nonsense and let the world judge me by that! (Which as a rule shouldn't matter now, because i have been filling my blog with just that all this while.) that's why i'm going to try and do some free writing.

Here comes N, the aggro surdy (aggressive sardarni for nincompoops) to do some 'mwah mwah'ing in the air that Ni breathes and say, "Helllooo Daarling...how are we doing today?" They're moving on to banal things like, "I got a massage done yesterday, and it was soooo awesome!!!" (must have been even better for the man giving her one, assuming it was a man.)

"Ooooh, love those earrings! Where's you get them from?" and "So, how's the male scene in your life?" Suddenly and all-too-abruptly, this social kitty-party gossip is pierced by a shrill laugh.

Not of a woman's, but of Mr. RD. Deceptively large, his voice is just as much an opposite - hoarse and brittle. (Not really, but hey, this is free writing and i'm at the mercy of my thoughts!)

P just came - my scapegoat in the agency. I love bullying him around, and since he hasn't objected to it so far (except to say, "you're lucky, my mother told me not to hit women" or "some day, this volcano will burst"), i'm assuming he enjoys it too. kinky as it sounds, it's not.

P blogs too. His blog is called nonsense diaries. I read it one day and was surprised to discover that P is a better writer than he is an account person. Wonder why he didn't get into writing. Must have been his parents. Or his girlfriend.

Speaking of girlfriends (Ni is drinking water right now, i can see it from the corner of my eye. RD says, "Hi Clemi Da"...), i have this 'friend' - Pr. Frustratingly calm, unresponsive and stubborn. A complete jerk and a ******. I keep teasing him about his non-existent (or so he tells me but i don't believe him) girlfriend, and he just takes it. I was like that once upon a time.

Once upon a time, there were a man and a woman. And thanks to them, there was a world full of people - men and women of all sorts - some of which have already been profiled in the beings of N, Ni, RD, P and Pr. If all of us are descendants of Adam and Eve, why are we all so different? Or maybe when we strip away the layers, we aren't so different at all. We are all animals, here for the sole purpose of procreation. Maybe that's where the similarity begins. And ends. Tch tch.