I wish I had never written this goddamn book
On creative projects that cease to take shape
As a writer, it’s my dream to write a poem, a short story, a children’s book, a novel, a song, a rap song, a short film, a documentary, and a feature film.
By the year 2022, I had already penned many poems, short stories, and a few children’s books, amongst other writing pieces, on Instagram. In the month of July 2022, I found myself atop my Royal Enfield Bullet, motorcycling solo across the high mountains of Spiti, Zanskar, and Ladakh. I left home not knowing when I would be back. During the journey, I was writing every day without fail—sometimes seated next to a river, other times perched on the top of a lonely hill, and on days I felt fancy, in cafes.
During the 100 days of motorcycling, I was introduced to a very different way of living—the kind of living dictated purely by intent, contentment, and freedom of choice. I was meeting new people almost every other day, from a cyclist from Singapore who had ridden all the way to India to a drummer from Italy who became my brother along the journey.
By the last leg of my journey, a book that I chanced upon at a cafe in Spiti was Bahut Dur Kitna Dur Hota Hai (How Far Is Too Far).
The title intrigued me, and as I started to read its first few pages in an attempt to see for myself if the book interested me or not, I was already through half the book. The story—a travelogue of Manav Kaul’s time in Europe—reflected so much of what I was feeling, experiencing, and seeing all along the months spent on the road.
The next morning, when I sat to write in my journal, I ended up writing about the beginning of my journey from the time I left home. I was writing in Hindi, and although I started writing about the journey, snippets and pieces from my life that had led me to the journey also started to pour through the pages.
For the next two weeks, I found myself walking the length and breadth of Leh, occupying different cafes and sipping on ginger lemon tea. Adorned with a notebook and a pen in hand, wearing at least five layers of clothing, I wrote till my hands hurt.
Soon, news started to spread that the Leh-Manali highway would be shut for the winter. To avoid the longer and more tedious route from Leh-Kashmir-Punjab to my then-home in Jaipur, I packed my bags and came back home.
While my travelling had come to an end, the journey was still very much alive in me. In fact, that’s all I thought about once I was back home.
My notebook, which was my sole companion in Leh, now lay restless and incomplete. The words ached to become sentences, the sentences into paragraphs, and the paragraphs to metamorphose into a book, as I continued to miss my journey.
If only I was not as nostalgic as I am, I would not have opened the notebook and flipped through the pages. If I had not flipped through the pages, I would not have read what I had written and been reminded of all that I was feeling. If only I had not been reminded of all that I was feeling, I would not have dared to open my laptop and rewrite everything that I had already written and continue to complete the story of my journey. I wish I could go back and change all of this!
I started writing in January 2023, and by February 2023, I was halfway through the book that was being made to be written by me. I was only pushing the keys.
From March 2023 to September 2023, my mind started to fish for new waters, and I ended up working on another project that consumed me entirely. At the back of my mind, my book begged to be written, my story begged to get completed, and my heart—still travelling the curvy roads of the mountains—longed for the same skies and rivers.
I spent the month of October at Deer Park in concentration and solitude to focus on my book, whose first draft I completed writing on the 28th of October.
My dream of writing a novel was finally coming true. The first step already seemed to be over. The best part was that I didn’t even have to plan all of it—it just happened.
When I started sharing my progress with people, everyone naturally got really excited and was full of questions!
“So what’s next?”
“When can we read the book?”
“Are you going to hire an editor?”
Honestly, I didn’t have the answer to any of the above questions. A simple Google search informed me that it’s best to take a two-month break from your manuscript after completing it. That felt like the easiest step to take, and so I did.
In January 2024, when I was supposed to start editing my book, I was looking for a home to move to, and by the end of January, I moved to Bir. The next few months were spent trying to find paid work to support my expenses. A workshop on manuscript editing to be held at Deer Park in the month of May had my hopes pinned to it, hoping that finally, after this workshop, I would get the technical know-how to edit my manuscript. I did, but then life took a new turn, and I started facilitating writing and photography sessions.
In October 2024, exactly a year after I had written my book, I realized what a mockery I was making of myself. Hiding, tiptoeing around the book the entire year—for what? Didn’t I want this? Isn’t this every writer’s dream to get published, like it is a motorcyclist’s dream to ride to Ladakh?
By this time, a year after I had announced that I had written a book, almost anyone and everyone I met inquired about the book and its stage. “I am editing it” became my repeated response, like a parrot.
It’s not like I wasn’t. Every now and then, I did sit with the 300 pages of printout that I had so judicially gotten to work on the book. Somehow, the intent with which I had written the book felt extinguished. When I read the first draft, I realized how far I was from actually telling the stories that I lived. There seemed to be honesty in my writing but not vulnerability—exactly what I am known for as a writer.
Reading the entire draft, I also realized how different it is to write a book compared to any other form of writing. As I write this newsletter, it seems like another attempt to legitimize my delay and seek empathy.
Another deadline awaits—the final one before I begin to lose it and delete all that I have written. I am quite capable of that. The publisher’s website says that they want the first three chapters along with a little about myself. So the new goal is to just focus on the first three chapters. My self-imposed deadline is 31st January—exactly two weeks from today. Either I will push the send button or delete my manuscript for good and carry on with other things in life.
A sneeze waiting to come out, a cough stuck in my throat, the water that comes out from the nose upon laughing while drinking water, leaving a very heavy weight on the throat—all that and more is what this editing has been like for me.
When I signed up to be a writer, I signed up for the writing part. This sucks. Editing sucks. Writing books sucks. And to hell with my dreams that I signed up for not knowing what would come out. On days I have to edit, I miss my corporate job. Nothing comes easy, especially in the creative world. I should stop writing before my intestines begin to churn and hurt themselves. I feel lighter.
Any last words on the book? I will tell you on the 31st. Pray for me, but no empathy, please. Today, I don’t feel worthy of it.
Excited to share that Creative Writing Laboratory is back with another writing space after last week’s successful deep dive on the topic of failure.
The space is tomorrow (19th Jan - Sunday) at 12:30 IST. The topic of the space is “The Success Spectrum”. More about the space on the link.
I am excited to see a few of you tomorrow!
PS: I have priced the call at 200. For any reason, if you’re unable to afford it, please write back to me and I will share the link with you for free no questions asked :)
I invite you to reflect and write on the following prompt:
Write about a dream or goal you once had, the journey you undertook to pursue it, and the unexpected challenges or emotions you faced along the way. Reflect on whether the dream still feels worth chasing and how the experience has shaped you.
As a feature of all my newsletters, I share one song, one book, one plant-based meal, one film/video that inspired me, and some photographic updates from my life.
Song: Ali Sethi’s new song is out!
Book/Newsletter: How I feel writing/editing my book encapsulated by Stein
Meal: Had the richest farm-to-table experience of my life! My neighbour aunty called me and a few friends for dinner. We had “Makke ki roti and saag” the most delicious winter delicacy here in Northern India. The makai “corn” was from Aunty’s farm itself and so was the saag “spinach leaves”. The fact that all of it was slow-cooked on the chulha made the experience all the more rich.
Film/Video: I am watching Black Warrant these days. I started watching it only because of Vikramaditya Motwayne, one of my favourite filmmakers. Watched a few episodes, and it’s alright as of now. Can’t say it blew my mind (yet)
Photographs:
Went for a hike to a hot spring
"On days that I have to edit, I miss my corporate job" - lol-ed in real life xP
I don't usually stick with long posts but this one had me hooked! Towards the end, I was actually invested in knowing more about your slow cooked makke ki roti and saag xP Can't wait to see what you'll do on the 31st!
This was a surprising read for me--and aha! moment of sorts for several reasons.
The write-up mentioned, 'Bahut Dur . . .' by Manav Kaul brought me back the time I was editing the English translation of his other travelogue (called Bird on My Windowsill in English), which is also about his time in Prague. It was hard for me to place this book's narrative in my mind--I often wondered who faced this nomadic, romantic existential-ness. How does one locate themselves on roads far away form home. And then, I come across your write-up, which responds to these questions; which locates a person on roads far away from home--in discoveries, in food, in their own thoughts.
This is brilliant.
. . . and I wonder how a book like Bahut Dur . . . landed on that hill and yet it would seem like the book that would land there.