At times, I sit with a pen in my hand and the blank sheet of paper in front of me, but nothing, nothing at all seems to strike. I want to write something (note the usage of the word something, because it says a lot), but in vain I sit there pondering and pondering without being able to drop any coloured ink on the paper in the form of some meaningful syllables, words and sentences.

At such times, I just go blank and wonder to myself... What do I write about, is a question hanging in the air, an answer to which I seem unlikely to find and it is at such times that I end up writing random stuff like this, which may or may not really make much sense but still does have some meaningful content in it.

I go about dropping the ink here and there without giving it much thought and finally I have a piece, a finished one. Its so funny, to even think of how I do this, because I like the fact that in spite of having said so much about not being able to think and write something even though I want to, I end up actually writing something I hadn't thought I would.

Seems quite complicated but in reality its actually very simple. So I continue to play with words like this and write and write and write...