I am learning to be a good writer and I am member of various networks on Ryze, which help me to grow as a writer. I write, people react, I improve my skills and I am encouraged to write more. There are many networks online and many of them interact personally too by meeting off line, enjoying the evening of fun and feast.
Every month, ‘Caferati-online writer’s network’, have read-meets where we meet off line and see the actual expressions of the group members while we read our piece. It is fun, watching the expression of the dazed crowd, especially if you are reading a bold stuff, which the group members are not sure, whether it is the fiction or a real life experience. On the net, when we write, we sometimes forget, or don’t care that there are many people reading and making their own impression, but at the actual read-meet, it is a different story.
We, as a reader, are conscious, of all those people listening and staring at us, watching our gestures, our clothes, and our hair, although all those members, who are present may not even be listening to us hundred percent. Some may be admiring the style of our dress, others enjoying the whiff of sweet perfume, some of them might be wondering whether we shaved our legs before coming, and some might be wondering about our private life and making their own assumption on our pattern of living.
Then there will be some who might be thinking when they will eat their Samosas and Sandwiches, wondering whether they could get up, out of turn, and help themselves with the cup of coffee or visit a rest room. The point is that nobody might be actually hearing us hundred percent. So, when we finish our long story and expect an applause, (sometimes we assume, our piece is the masterpiece) we might get to see a group of rolling eyes.
We, then grin, rub our palms, raise our eye brows, and look around trying to settle our gaze on one particular person, whom we feel must have listened to our masterpiece ninety-nine percent. The feed-back takes a front seat and we get what we deserve. Live performance and feedback is always intoxicating.
Thus, read-meets of Caferati are fun and this month was no different. This month we had at one of the member’s private, cozy home, with books and artifacts lining the walls, high up on the 16th floor of Sainara apartment at Cuff Parade, overlooking the fishermen colony and a beautiful sunset above the calm sea.
A friend who had promised to accompany me for the read-meet could not make it and she had to drop out the last minute. I decided to go alone, but I hate making solo entrance. I looked around, as I reached the lobby, hoping I would find one member to accompany me for the entrance into the group and I was lucky to meet one person at the lift. We got to introduction, she was a first-timer, I was consoling her that she need not be afraid or nervous, that she will have a great time, I gave her some back ground knowledge about the group and then asked her to make the entrance with me so that we look like great pals.
Surprises! Surprise! Surprise! She was a reporter from a reputed paper! I had already given her my interview in the lift!
The read-meet started with a group photograph of famous writers by professional photographer and a formal detailed introduction (glad that we could get free publicity at last!). The reporter encouraged us to boast about our work, which I shamelessly did. (I love freebees)I hope she writes about my books! I need sales!
The rest of the read-meet was just reading, commenting, snacking, listening to the sparkling conversations of vibrant group, romancing the ambience and sometimes smiling forcefully at those who won’t match my smile with theirs.
Later, after the meeting, smaller group were contemplating the idea of dining to gather in some restuarant. I decided to join in too without any fuss.
“Let’s go here”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Let’s go there”
“Let’s take a taxi”
“Let’s walk”
"It is getting late na"
“Never mind, forget the dinner, and let’s go home.”
Phew! I was hungry! I was lucky to get a lift back home in a luxurious car, offered to me by one of the members (Lord bless her kind heart!)
Thank God we can order food from the comfort of our homes!
Viva Mumbai! Hail Mumbai!
The memories of the read-meet lingered on as I chewed on roasted chicken and French fries.
I am reading this book called ‘The Diary of a Social Butterfly by Moni Mohsin, which is quite hilarious and keeps me entertained. The author is a Pakistani and she has used lot of Hindi words (Uff! Itni main exhaust ho gayee hoon, na.) in the book to make it interesting with phrases such as ‘three-tiara cake’ ‘business typhoons’ or ‘slip into a comma….’
Excerpt from page 136:
Imagine! The guts! And you know what he looked like? Like one of those clerks, all thin and reedy, who used to quietly, uncomplainingly work for hours and hours in Daddy’s outer office where there used to be only punkhas and no ACs. And now they’ve got cars! And tongues! As daddy says, “Bhutto has a lot to answer for!”
Recently some one commented on my thread on a forum of writer's group: He writes -
“I've noticed that these days, there are a lot of Indian authors trying their hand at writing, and unfortunately, many of them are really really bad...I only buy their books because I want to encourage Indian authors to write more and more, but their writing is so pathetic...”
and now, he might even hold the similar opinion about Pakistani authors. But the fact is that everyday new styles have to be established and people will write what sells and this book is selling.
People like to read ‘light stuff’ sometimes and we cannot call them ‘pathetic’ just because they write differently.
It is good book to read in a bus trip, when the rush hours drive you crazy and the humor helps keep our sanity.
