Ripple : Pt-1

Strange how as a teenager i found my life complicated and complex when in truth i really hadn't even stepped out into the real world. little had i known back then how those very words 'complicated' and 'complex' would become the mantra to my life as an adult.
I think this is the story of anyone's life, one that all can relate to at some point or the other.

Writing was the most important thing in my life. To be able to pick up a blank piece of paper and a simple Reynolds pen and create scenes, situations and feelings that were always on a brim ready to assault themselves on to a canvass. The craziest thing was i fancied myself the next Arundhati Roy, full of existential angst and disillusion to the life around me. These emotions i thought i could express whenever i wanted to into yarns i could spin like silky spiderwebs.
But delicate ' spiderwebs' were the apt word for these fancies of mine.
I was no Roy nor was I even a Danielle Steel (purveyor of paperback pulp). I was just a plain old person with feelings just like anyone else and a vision of grandeur that was far beyond my reach. The more i plunged into my new life as a immigrant housewife in a new land the farther i drifted from the dreams that had fuelled a passion in me during my days as a fledgling journalism graduate.
Now years into my life which is no longer new and has its share of responsibilities i find myself at the same point i was at 7 yrs ago. Writer' Block i called at some point. I think it was more like a Lazy Writer's Block on a long, long snooze drifting further into the abyss of oblivion and darkness.
But hey didn't i always believe in the 'light at the end of the tunnel' term used and exhausted in every context possible? Yes, in its simplicity i still harbour my belief and that will explain my resurrection of my dreams. I now embark on a journey i had abandonned years before only to be engulfed with domesticity and a slight sliver of self-pity. I shed those withered wings only to grow new ones!