The Kitchen Vedantist

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The Unspoken Thought

Birth of the poet

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What happens when one has too many thoughts and feelings that do not find their way out?

A common thought, especially in my parts of the world, is that they all build up to volcanic release at some inconvenient moment. A poet friend recently wrote of ‘the storm within’.

I somehow find this to be untrue. A lot of loving letters, ideas that captured my imagination at the moment of inception, died down just because I could not put them down in paper. Now I have only a vague memory of what I wanted to do with them.

Sure there is a gestation period. But once the time has come, the word has to be out. Else, it just dies, much like the baby that’s trapped in the womb.

There’s a difference though-unlike the baby, the idea doesn’t leave much to look at.


September 27, 2010 - Posted by | creativity, self expression, talk, Uncategorized | , , , ,


  1. …which is EXACTLY why there is always a notebook or a tape recorder within reach of my hand. Some thoughts/emotions unlock others, I find. I hate to let a good one get away. Better to write it/record it now and hate it later than not have captured it at all. Hope you’re having a lovely day/night/lifetime. xo

    Comment by lynnbiederstadt | September 27, 2010 | Reply

  2. Yes Lynn. I thought of you as I was writing this. So glad that you’ve worked out a system so nothing good slips out of your hand. Maybe sometime soon I’ll post some insight into how so much of love never gets to live.Sad, but that needs to be told too.

    Comment by umavvs | September 28, 2010 | Reply

  3. Disagree.
    The lifetime of a word or an idea is maybe much longer than what we could fathom. Maybe it just lies there dormant, like an old turtle, to wake up suddenly one fine day and stand in front of you – all washed up and clean and ready to use.
    Maybe you would again postpone using it. That’s more likely.
    Maybe you would finally use it.
    Maybe you would unwittingly give the idea a shove on its ass and it would hope on, like a carefree monkey, to a tree in another one’s mind, during one of those conversations that you have.
    Yes, maybe some ideas, who like many of us, would die having never lived: but it’s death can only be confirmed after the last gasp has escaped your lips.
    By the way what is the horse doing up there?

    Comment by Rahul | September 8, 2012 | Reply

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