I was a paper scribbler by then.
During my schooldays, just because I was lack of friends and had nothing busy to do; I started filling the papers i see with characters (I mean alphabets & some strange curves). Soon the characters turned into words that I knew by then. It all started in my mother tongue Tamil. I used to fill papers with words of randomness, there was never a pattern. Later, once the random words formed a meaning to me. The meaning that only I could decipher. Just like a Rorschach, they gave me a different meaning every time I looked at them. Soon, I started writing, stuff with some imposed meaning on them and the very little read people around me called them poems.
Lo, I started scribbling poems. I kept writing things just the way did earlier.
My childhood was quite a different. I was very desperate about people. I was desperate, for nobody understood my silence. My room walls had been my companion for years; I simply sit and stare at them for hours. From the peeled off paint of the walls I was able to figure out certain images just like the way we do with clouds (Yet another Rorschach..!). I was able to form, fictional characters from the rorschach and started playing my own invisible cartoons and stories in the empty walls of my rooms. Later started sketching the things my walls shown me, and pasted them everywhere on the house. I included the writing skills that I had developed by then, to give captions for my so called sketches.
Lo, I started sketching then.
Years rolled on, my walls turned so dull.. I was desperately in need of something more than the walls. By the time it caught my eyes.. A local magazine (the magazine is still running successfully). The center page of the magazine was filled with a sketchy scribbling on one side and a cluster of poetic words on the other. I understood neither of them, but they were catchy. Started gathering the center page of the old releases of the magazine, at a point of time the scribbling and the word cluster made some sense to me. Years, rolled on. I became a decent poet among my friends (they called me so, for they wanted poems for their girls.. 🙂 ). Later, I started writing a book of poems for a person whom I cherished the most. That is when I started a blog too, in the memory of that person.
Lo, I started blogging too.
For my blog posts, Mr.Google helped me with all sorts of pictures and images I wanted. One fine day, I felt guilty about using someone’s creation without their permission. I tried sketching few of my own, and later saw a man with camera capturing me somewhere and just got my first intro with the term Photography. Just out of curiosity, I borrowed cameras from my friends and started doing atrocity with it in office, home, streets, everywhere possibly. For the past two years, am clicking with my friend’s cameras.
Lo, I started clicking.
Photography introduced me short film making and most importantly traveling.
I along with my friends, tried quite a few films so far. Each one of them failed in a different manner… 😛
Yet am happy, that am a traveler now…
Art is a chain reaction… Isn’t it??