Nine to Five

Inspiration knows no boundaries.  It can come from anywhere and hit you. A tiny pat on the back might not make you cross over the bridge, but a smack across your arm will make you lunge for that one thing you desire.  Sometimes, you have a really well articulated idea, demanding narration and publicity. But mostly, you only hear whispers. Like small wisps of imagination, these whispers take nurturing and constant attention to grow into the stories they become. However, before they become stories, they go through 'growing up' just as we do. The infant with a hint of greatness ahead but lacking in communication. Anything you write at this stage, feels inadequate and raw.  Keep trying and your story grows into a smart child. Petulant maybe, or even stubborn and yet imaginative with an insatiable curiosity. This is the most imaginative part of the idea but with no anchors and unconstrained wanderings. At this point your story seems to move in multiple directions with no defini

If you have been reading my blog for a while now, then I believe you are aware of my obsession with books. And with the territory of my love for reading comes my immediate lust for bookstores. Especially old ones. Each bookstore is like a treasure island, hiding deep secrets in the highest shelves and enticing me with beautiful leather bound spines. The older the place, higher the shelves and deeper the secrets.  I have been on the hunt for antique bookstores for a while now. On prowl, I often visit quaint streets and calm lanes, away from the crowd. Breaking all my assumptions,  the recent one I discovered, is in the heart of London and ever so exquisite. Any street in Leicester Square is full of people in the evenings. Drinks, food and good times. Come one, come all, Leicester square has something for everyone. The chatter and vehicles buzzing past me drown every sense one could feel, and still I walked steadfastly on my trail. My wonderful smartphone was thirsty and unable to h