Dear readers,

I am feeling nervous. May be  goosebumps have decorated my frontal visage. Actually , I do not remember when I wrote a blog last time. Archives on this website tells me that it was way back on 24th May 2014. So, writing after nearly 11 months is a herculean task.

The reason is that my  bread & butter is not sponsored by this activity. May be, I need to change the direction of my life and follow the CB example. CB, the writer, philosopher , movie-maker and a banker who resigned from banking and now lectures people/politicians to behave properly. English fiction/non-fiction writing is a hot profession these days. But, in CB’s case, low-priced books by publisher was a master-stroke. Purchasing books at Rs. 70 is a nice experience. Otherwise older writers used to sell books at a premium price of not below Rs. 500. So, very few copies were sold and concept of blockbuster was alien for Indian book industry. CB regularly sells few million copies. Though, quality of writing is pretty bad  but emotions remain pretty strong in his stories somewhat similar to early 90s movies of Mithun da and Govinda.

I  feel that Ved Prakash Sharma was far better writer.Young men/boys who have grown up in Government Hindi Medium schools in Bihar/UP/Delhi/Haryana must have heard his name   But, he wrote in Hindi and his books were printed on cheap paper. That’s why we call them “Lugdi Sahitya”. CB is master story-teller who packaged  “Lugdi Sahitya” in designer cover and has become a ne0-millionaire.

But, my reason of writing now is a little bit different. I am sitting idly in front of my 08-year old laptop and has no work to do. So, why not write some musings for future generations. I believe in  wise words of Benjamin Franklin ” If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” So, here I believe in my potential and writing something for a benign reader.

You must be thinking that if title talks about Kashmir then where is it till now ?

Since, last few months I am living in Kashmir. In bygone era, Kashmir was basically a huge  lake – an island sea  called Kashyap Sar surrounded by lofty mountain peaks. Now Kas means channels and Mir denotes mountains. So, we get plenty of water in Kashmir. I drink fresh spring water.

Above-mentioned paragraph is incomplete. I am just testing the waters again to verify the fact that my readers have not forgotten me. They still believe in my writing acumen. So, this was just a glimpse of my  musings on Kashmir. My bird like story is yet to grow its wings. But, I promise to write about Kashmir. This region is virtual minefield of untold stories. I will pick one gem and show it to you.

Till the time is appropriate. Bye for now.