Empty Space

I spent the entire day at a dear one's place today. At another's right now. I had almost decided I would not blog tonight, but I got tagged in a post on Facebook by someone who knows this thing called 'doodle'.

 

At D's place I began doodling on her pillowcase, her bedcover, her kameez, her arm, her palm, her wedding invite proof card, a currency note, her hot-water bag and a whole series of things would go on till her husband did not say aloud that all writing instruments should be kept away from me. At the place I am in right now, oh do not ask me. The staircase wall, the softboard, the books, the many nightwears...everything has a stamp of me. Only, she is still angry with me having designed a bit on her white phone today! But SM wasn't. So that kind of settles the score. My aunt had once allowed me to colour her wall when me and the cousins were bored that evening. We did a good thing out of it. And have ever since been in love with walls. Just lately I was dying to colour one of my own walls and bugging the mother of the same, till she gave up and finally procured a kettle and said, 'colour it!

 

The general notion thus is common everywhere, since childhood. Any kind of pen/cil, colour should be kept away from me in an endeavour to keep things unscribbled and undoodled. BGC staffroom still has the coasters and paperweights made and doodled by me.  My very kind friend, G, mentioned that she is going to rip my house off all the white notebooks and give me a bunch of lined copies for me to be able to attempt to complete my thesis. I cannot tell you how caged the very thought made me feel. I love G but I hate lined notebooks.

 

Would you believe me if I said empty spaces call out to me? Would you believe if I said I do not intend to make a mess of scattered pieces of paper? Would you like to join me once? I love listening to all that you have to say, only I would need something to keep scribbling, doodling. Do you find it disturbing? People have said I may be suffering from OCD for that matter. Oh well, everyone is, more or less.

 

There is too much emptiness anyway.