Anonymous lines

My lines get born as a relief from a pain. The pain caused by the thoughts busily following me, making me think them, making me write them down, making me make sense of them. It is when I cannot tolerate my anxiously paining mind any more I open a blank word-document and my finger tips start dancing on the keyboard.

And how should I feel when knowing that another batch of carefully composed lines seasoned with a couple of my teardrops and blessed by my frowning eyebrows comes into this world – anonymous? On the name of what can anyone do that to me? How on earth can I do that to myself?

So devastated and done I feel after writing a piece on gender and international trade, so inspired I am by the mountainous and peaceful air of Dharamsala .. that there is no way to produce a piece on WTO now….. One more anonymous piece on a very exciting, yet irrelevant to the self-fulfilment issue..