You close your eyes and try to remember the first snow this season as it fell softly on your way to work. You relive the memory of your train ride from Calcutta to Kharagpur where you met the woman who shared aloo parathas with you. You feel the taste of the exotic Ghost Pepper at Chelsea Market in Manhattan on your tongue, after you’re home, when the burning sensation is no longer real.
Then you simply describe it in words.
Description. Of all the strategies of writing, description should be the easiest of all.
I mean, after all, what’s there to description? The original is already in existence, or must have been in existence, or can be very much like something that is or was in existence. Just go forth and make a copy. Describe it.
This morning was the first real snow of the season in Jersey City. At 8 am, it looked formidable outside with little lines of white zipping across the air and a fine, white dust accumulated on the shrubs and railings which melted on the concrete. It wasn’t easy to set out.
An army of darkly hooded people moved towards the train station in unison at rush hour, carefully stepping on the gaps in the little rivulets on the slippery ground and pushing through glass doors to enter buildings along the waterfront. Many had no work at all in these buildings and were walking through just to catch as much of dry warmth as possible for parts of the way avoiding the elements.
In the underground train stations that happen to be partially on the surface and hence open to the cold air, regular commuters showed an amazing knowledge of warm spots as they deftly huddled in corners with the least cold breeze. You could almost see their ears pricking up with the imperceptible distant rumble of the train as it approached. They jumped up from their corners and zipped past just in time as the train entered the station to rush through the few remaining steps to reach the open doors of the trains before they shut on them.
People shook their umbrellas and boots to get rid of the fine, white, dusty solid water. As the train emerged to light out of the darkness of the underground tunnel before reaching certain stations, the windows showed a sudden change in the industrial landscape along the train tracks. Awe-inspiring for those who had the time to look up from their electronic gadgets. Continue reading Life is in the details→
How do you write your descriptions? How to you remember the little details that are oft forgotten and fall by the wayside of our memories? How do you bring a moment to life exactly as it was as you were going through it? Above all, how do you get your memories to lie like truth? How do you create moments that make us remember things that were yet were not to lead us to our make believe worlds as though we were in them with the clarity of a memory? Continue reading Writing and detail→