about the insignificant
it feels like writing again,
feels that what needs to be
can only be begun sometime
an inconspicuous time,
often this is the romantic spirit of idealism
often this minor effort will wither away into the average
but wont it be, even otherwise, the average i mean?
why make fun of the little ones
why neglect them as trivial and unimportant
why so, even when these
in ever so insignificant ways build what we understand by momentum
and momentum isnt that all that matters?
i doubt if major efforts and waiting for them
have ever been of significance
and one may question wherein comes the major effort from
but from a general momentum
built in ever insignificant ways
in ever miniature forms
little revolts here and there
the littleness hides the human nature
and a momentum is sure to be built
a momentum that is anyways built
and when it is built, its hard to brake it
to tame it, to control and release
and who comes to the rescue?
are little friends, miniature efforts
the making of an artist or an inventor
of an leader and a peasant
is not due to the bold stroke of genius we all hear about
it is the nurturing and practicing of the medium of expression
of years of little efforts
years spent in learning the language that can speak creativity
that can dance and walk on a tight rope, with energy and lack of fear
and all we notice is the miniature effort that makes all the difference
that sums up all the rest and thus hides from us
the ignorant bystander
and then we ignorant people, we ape these minor finishing touches
as real standalone efforts
to replace the artist/creator and fail
fail miserably cause we come to know how difficult an effort it would take
and thus we conclude, oh the ignorant bystander, how much of a genius it takes
and we live our lives with this learning embedded into our living
the importance of a certain kind of effort ever increasing,
of bold strokes and radical ideas, the illusion of glamour
and we neglect that what can build a momentum
and thus we fail again, and again we conclude what a genius it takes,
but this time, we also conclude that we can not.
and sometimes, we wait for our bold stroke of creativity,
and never make the smaller ones that might give momentum,
because our yardstick is just so bigger than what we can manage to do,
and so we wait for the enlightenment, we dream for the big moment,
we are desperate for the minor sparks of opportunity that we might come across,
and we neglect so much…
and thus fails another artist, even before the journey began,
ignorant and disillusioned, and convinced that it takes a genius,
and mistakes it as hardwork instead.
Author: 
