A little bit of coffee

The last few days has been kind of mixed in many ways. Right when I thought I shall start writing once again, my imagination and to an extent the little brain I had did the unthinkable. All the ideas and thoughts that were swarming inside just disappeared after a good night’s sleep.

It was as if my mind just became blank or as I am saying to myself, clear. No reason and absolutely no bloody excuse why this happened. So I did a quick search on big G and the solution was to keep writing more!

Ok, I have no idea what to write and I am stuck in-between this world and that world. Clueless of what to write I decided not to worry too much and just concentrate on other things. Even after a bit of shopping, movie and some late night parties nothing came up. Not even a little spark.

Now this started bugging me to such an extent I sought professional help.

There I was waiting in the lobby and trying to cure me of this sudden thoughtless state I found myself in.

A cute little nurse ushered me inside the doc’s room. I thought how on earth such a girl like her is working in a place like this where only losers, psychopaths and mentally unstable people come in.

"Ok, Mr. Vivek, tell me what’s your problem"

"Doctor, I am not able to think of anything to write"

"Not able to think eh? Are you a writer?"

"No, I am not. But I write to keep myself sane"

"Sane? Do you have any previous record of any mental/emotional problems"

"hmm… not that I am aware of any, but this is the first time something like this has happened"

"What happened"

"I am not able to think of anything"

"Good or bad"

"Both. I need something to write about"

"What do you write?"

"I write what comes to my mind. Mostly what I feel, think and mostly my emotions."

"Hmm.. go on.."

"Rather than bottling my emotions, I express it all out as writing."

"hmm… hmm…"

"But for the last couple of days, I am completely blank. It’s as if my thoughts have ran away taking my little brain along with it"

"Do you consider yourself to be a good writer?"

"No."

"So why do you write?"

"I told you I write to keep myself sane"

"So, the problem is not why you stopped writing. The problem is whether you are sane or not?"

"What makes you think so" obviously now deeply affected by this sudden turn of events.

"Going by what you said and the manner this seems to have affected you."

"So…"

"So, I am going to prescribe you some medications that will calm your nerves and will help you get over this feeling"

"Ok."

"Please collect it from the counter outside"

With that he scribbled some gibberish stuff and handed over a prescription. As I slowly made my way out, I couldn’t take my eyes of the cute nurse. On the pretext of asking her where the counter was, I made my way and stopped in-front of her. Actually I wanted to speak to her and this seemed to be a nice excuse.

Looking up from what she was doing, "Yes, how can I help you" she enquired.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where the counter is" as if I hadn’t noticed where the counter was, but this seemed a good way to begin.

She said something and pointed  out the direction, but inside my mind I was not even listening to what she said. I just nodded my head for the sake and slowly made my way out.

Since men (and women) are curious by nature, I enquired about her in the medicine counter. I found out she is only doing an intern for her medicine course here and would be leaving in another 2-3 weeks. Thanking the counter guy, I grabbed the tablets and made my way to the nearest coffee shop as I hadn’t eaten anything since morning.

In the next 30 minutes I spent sipping a little bit of coffee, my mind, once again, started swirling with ideas and thoughts. Whether I had a serious problem or not, I have 2-3 weeks only!