Oh! Its about to come.

Last night, I stripped myself naked and lied on bed.

Its funny time, september- too early to be comfortable with your A.C.s off and yet too soon to do without them, that is when you have your clothes on.

I had my fan on at the lowest speed; the soft brush of wind against my body was balming my mind which was desperate in its hunt for ideas. I lied on the bed for about two hours, sometimes scribbling a few notes on a pad, sometimes combing my hair and quite often scratching my groin area(all with the same pen) but the ever elusive ideas...they never came.

And I am wondering why? Why didn't anything come?

When do ideas come? How do they come? Where do they come from?

And (perhaps)most importantly- what is that one has to do so that they could come?

I don't know. May be there are no definite answers. May be there are no answers. Or may be experience will help me find some patterns in their apparent randomness. Can't say much right now.

All I can say is that there is this feeling sometimes and I go with it- take a wrong turn while going home, for instance, and sit in a strange place or spend entire evening watching kids play in a local garden or skip my dinner and lie on terrace floor gazing stars,... and ideas come.

Without an ounce of effort.

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