She wants to write till her eyelids cease to stay open,
till the caffeine runs out,
till her mind shuts down and screams
“Stop this hedonism”
She wants to Write till the words start becoming unintelligible and she passes out mid sentence;
Write till the night lamps glow dimly, dimmer with every passing hour and the shadows of the night soon step out…soon after the grandfather clock strikes Cinderella’s twelfth hour!

Her madfingers glide over the typewriter with the finesse of a veteran pianist in a ballroom;
Like an addict,
Writing is the balm that soothes her hyperventilating self, it is the high that no other substance, savage or handsome sailor can give to her.

She scribbles ideas and self quotes like a mad scientist on the back of envelopes…
Her renditions that emanate messages of love, unity, beauty, diversity, enchantment, dreams and mystique make her lips curl into a pleased victorious smile.
She’d soon have to get herself a cat to keep her company the taken lady friends giggle and advise; but who’d have the time to feed that little thing when she was out on journeys of exploration, story searching and world enlightenment?

Her tired knuckles sashay restlessly over the wooden desk in circles as her mind wanders off to the chemist’s store, the profane people there and the tingling aroma of food at the neighbour’s clamorous dinner party. “I’ve got a story there!” she exclaims wildly like Frankenstein…
Off she goes tick ticking at her typewriter still in her bathrobe and room slippers after that steamy shower…
Clicking her tongue impatiently at every error, cooing in approval at every flawless phrase…feeling ecstatic and thankful both at the same time that she had a sense of humour!

As the lamps dimmer, sleep gushes her senses like a potent sea tide,
sleep falls heavily on her eyelids…till she passes out mid sentence over the wooden desk.

But! But…
she wants to write, she NEEDS to write
Alas, the caffeine ran out…..

So did her Morphine.

Sunrise was followed with the coming of the housekeeper with a dead pan look; she swept away piles of used needles and illicit drug prescriptions in silence….

Writer’s note:

To readers who don’t know about Morphine abuse.

What looks like her passion for writing is actually underlined by a morphine kick. Morphine is an opiate, it is used to treat moderate to severe pain, however a lot of women especially and old people get addicted to it. It is injected through needles and taken in capsules. It can often lead to disorientation of time and space, delusions and restlessness.



She NEEDS to Write
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Rashmeet Taluja

Rashmeet is an armchair philosopher and a thorough extrovert. She grew up in the cosmopolitan city of Pune reading Jane Eyre and Oscar Wilde, the richness of literature sparked a desire to write. Keep the cynics at bay is her mantra. She is studying Media Studies currently as a fresher and has discovered her acute love for story telling through films. She aspires to travel the length and breadth of the globe as she studies cultures, food, people and art. She gets high on reading & writing stories about people with a difference. Her dream is to feature on the New York Best sellers list someday…

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