Written Traces

Author’s Note: There are places we reach because someone we love knows the way. When they are gone, the road remains, but the certainty doesn’t. I don't remember the road that leads to a particular destination. As someone who takes the seat of a passenger, my only job is to sit back and pass the time it takes to reach from source to destination. That being said, I take immense pleasure in giving my absolute surrender to the hands of my father, who takes the wheel to get me to the destination we both shared. It is always at the destination of TTPS, where my father served, and the source is Puri. Yet not once did I bother to memorise the road. I remember only a few landmarks, a few habitual stoppages where we would pause along the way. Nothing more. The rest of the journey was spent in the comfort of being driven. The reason I am being so elaborate is that I don't remember whether it is after the passing of my father or before, but I used to have a very particular nightmare. Kind...

Do you know w hat I been thinking lately? Honestly, I have been thinking about a lot of things, but when I stop for a moment and think about my thoughts, I can only think of nothing. It's just a lot of thoughts colliding with one another at the same time, which I deem equally important, as I was quick to abandon them. This has been the case for months. It's not that I can't write or something, it's just I have been feeling greatly unmotivated of late. Every day, I hope for this lack of inspiration to go away, but I think about being unmotivated so extensively that it has become my general state of mind altogether. Here's another thing: very briefly do I get this sudden surge of inspiration while thinking about feeling uninspired. But the moment when I decide to act on the inspiring surge is also the moment it passes by without notice.  The thing is, a lot is going on in both the inside of me and the outside of my surroundings, which has my attention evenly distrib...