Author: Sanat Sethi

I’m a performer, my mask on. As the show starts, I feel sick to my stomach. I don’t want to do this. But the show (and I) must go on. So I play my role, though I would rather be doing anything else. My mask shows a smile, a happiness I don’t feel. I impatiently…

The night belongs to the poets, because we’re the only ones strong enough to embrace it. It belongs to the lovers, who know that the heart is most awake in the middle of night. It is the artists who own the dark, because we see not absence but the presence of the hearts deepest desires.

If the pen is mightier then the sword, then I’m definitely a keyboard warrior. And like many of the warriors of old, I wake up at night and fight my literary battles in the dead of night. The longer the night goes, the mightier my words. And when the sun awakens, my literary warrior goes…

My heart beats faster and faster. I’ve started and it’s the middle of night. That’s bad news because it means I can’t stop. I no longer have control. Intention, deliberation, structure, these are foreign to me. My muse has awoken and she leads the way now. I do my best to channel what she says…